I know some people aren’t comfortable talking about their cancer but it’s something that has never bothered me. My cancer is not very common and I’ve found that there is quite a bit of curiosity. I’ve lost count of the number of people, usually men, who wanted to examine my scar or look at the feeding tube. I have always been happy to answer any questions or submit myself for inspection. Until today.
I don’t have much experience of children as I don’t seem to come across them very often. I’ve never been very good with small people, I find if I pick up a baby it usually starts crying or throws up all over me. However I do sometimes end up minding small children for a short period of time, and we usually manage to get on OK.
So today I offered to mind small child for twenty minutes. Parent was nipping out to buy surprise gift for small child so did not wish to be accompanied. (Small child is getting a trampoline, sounds a lot of fun, might ask if I can have a go!).
I was actually looking forward to seeing small child. I’m quite fond of this one and we haven’t seen each other since I was diagnosed last year. Small child knows I’ve been ill and has apparently been missing me. Seems delighted to see me and presents me with a drawing. I’m not quite sure what it is, possibly a tractor, but thankfully I manage to stick it on the wall the right way up. Small child then settles down on my lap and the interrogation starts.
So why has my hair gone grey? Why have I got thin? Why is my neck puffy? What’s been wrong with me? What was it like in hospital? Did it hurt? Was I brave?
Then the scar is spotted. Apparently it’s awesome. My scar is a Y shape. Small child easily finds the end of it which is under my chin but then are they off in search of the other ends. With sticky fingers. The end behind my ear is eagerly located and my hair rearranged in the process. Then small child enthusiastically tried to locate the final end.
I try to explain to small child that they may not look down the front of my jumper. Small child wants to know why not? I say it is not polite to peer down the front of a lady’s jumper. Small child doesn’t agree. They have apparently looked down the front of lots of lady’s jumpers and nobody has ever minded.
Any advice for future childminding would be gratefully appreciated!
