my Breast Cancer blog

2004, age 34 — this is my story

Bump

Last night while John was reading the boys’ favorite Goosebumps book, 5-year-old Danny curled up in my lap (I love that), tugged at my shirt and asked, “Where’s that thing, where you had that bump?” I knew just what he meant. He wondered where to find the area where a port once poked up from underneath my skin. (My port lived near my collarbone for almost two years so that chemotherapy drugs had easy access to my veins.) I pointed to the area, now marked by a very faint scar about two inches long.

“Oh,” he said, and then returned his attention to the story about a boy who became a wax figure in a museum.

Danny doesn’t have much memory of breast cancer. A “thing” and a “bump” pretty much sum up his recollection of a disease that entered his life when he was just 18 months old. It seemed sad way back then to have a baby and cancer at the same time. Now, it seems a blessing. He doesn’t have a clue really. And that’s just how I think it should be.

Posted under: Chemotherapy, Family, Inspiration, Kids, My Story, Port, Resources, Side Effects, Survivors

One comment

  • This morning my husband and six year old daughter shaved my head down to peach fuzz. All my two year old kept saying is \"all gone.\" I too don\’t think she will have much recollection of this time and I am grateful for that.

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