Here's To A Boring Year

Too much excitement just might kill me!

I cry for Caemon

This morning as I was snuggled in bed  nursing Monkey down for his nap, I happened to read Insert Metaphor’s post about Caemon.

Sadly, three year old Caemon lost his battle with leukemia. Today, I cry for him, and for his parents, and for all those touched by childhood cancer.

I’ve never read Timaree and Jodi’s blog before today, but my heart goes out to them.

I know a little of what they must have been through the last few months. That sickening, sinking feeling when a doctor tells you that your precious child has cancer. The sleepless nights in hospital, watching your child suffer and fight and put up with things that even grownups struggle with. The complete and total upheaval of your lives, as everything goes on hold and all your energy focuses on getting the very best treatment for your child, on providing whatever comfort you can for them while your heart is quietly breaking.

And the fact that absolutely nothing can prepare you for losing your child. I still do not pretend to know what that pain must be like. That truly is something that no parent should ever have to face.

We met many beautiful children with leukemia in our ward, and I wish it wasn’t so. Childhood cancer simply should not exist – no child deserves to go through what these kids go through. Outcomes are much better now than they were even 20 years ago, but they could be better. I know that there is a huge amount of research being done in these areas – in fact we agreed for Monkey to be part of some studies and clinical trials during his treatment – but cures for these diseases simply cannot come soon enough.

We need to raise awareness of childhood cancer. People know it can happen, as a vague sort of thing, but most people don’t know anyone it has happened to, or realise what it entails. That’s why I feel it is so important for parents and children with cancer to talk about their experiences.

I use any excuse to bring up Monkey’s cancer in conversation, even with complete strangers. I’m sure a lot of people find that weird, but it’s an important part of his life, and I feel somehow compelled to share that. I want people to know that even adorable cheeky little Monkeys get cancer, and we need to do whatever we can to stop it.

So I’m joining Insert Metaphor in a week of blog-silence, in remembrance of Caemon, in deepest sympathies for his family, and in utmost thankfulness for my Monkey’s health.


5 comments on “I cry for Caemon

  1. Pomegranate
    February 7, 2013

    I don’t know why, but this post stood out to me in the sea of posts about Caemon. It’s all so fragile and tenuous, isn’t it?

    • boringyear
      February 7, 2013

      Thank you! I wasn’t sure there was much I could add, but I needed to say something. I’m glad to know that I could contribute something meaningful.

  2. Olive
    February 8, 2013

    This is beautiful and well put. I’m so glad you talk about Monkey’s cancer even with strangers – it’s so important. Thank you for adding your silence on your blog too.

  3. Karen Moore
    May 2, 2013

    I have been reading your blog since your beautiful comment “I cry for Caemon.” I found comfort in reading about your Monkey’s remission and today I breathed a huge sigh of relief for your family. I am thrilled that he is doing well. I encourage you to take advantage of services offered to you. Don’t minimize what you have been through or your continuing concerns. You absolutely deserve some special times.

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This entry was posted on February 7, 2013 by in cancer.
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