Never Forget

September 11th, 2001 We were like everyone else--maybe more aware because we were not at work--glued to the television, watching planes hit one then the other tower of the WTC in New York City. It was a shocking event and all Americans remember what they were doing that day--the similar day for me was Kennedy's assasination, but I remember it because cartoons were cancelled the day after he was shot and that was what my 4 year old self was struck by. In addition to what everyone was feeling, I was also watching my youngest son get his last dose of chemotherapy. He had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor 15 months before, and had undergone surgery, radiation, followed by a grueling year of chemotherapy. I was, and remain, grateful for the medical care he received as well as the research that went on before his diagnosis to give him the chance at living beyond 5 years old, but it was the hardest thing that I have ever done. The terrosit attacks on our country cut short any sort of celebration that was planned to mark the momentous day, but in some ways that turned out to be fitting. When treatment ended so too ended the prolonged periods of compromised immunity, bloow transfusions, deadly infections, and prolonged hours in the hospital, but it began what every family who has had a family member survive cancer--the waiting period. The time is fraught with anxiety, and almost nobody gets it. The general public thinks the hard part is over, and it is true that the physically grueling part is (hopefully) behind you--but the emotionally draining part continues. So today we celebrate the 23 year anniversary of a successful end of cancer treatment.