Ever since I got my cancer diagnosis I have felt myself fortunate that my children are too young to be afraid of the word cancer. In fact, the three youngest were there when I got the news. And they were there when the counselor came in to talk to me afterward. And maybe that was when I was supposed to break down. But I was prepared for the news. I could not be afraid in front of my children. I don’t know that they would have noticed. They were too busy arguing, blissfully unaware that anything could disrupt their innocent lives. If I’m honest, I was a little scared. But then I had no idea. I had read about treatment and reassured myself that this was “the good cancer”. No chemo, no hair loss. Really good prognosis. Somehow between then and now the reality has sunk in. Cancer is never good. And it is not something you can just fix. Its something you live with. I intend to live with it a long time. But there will always be reminders. The 4 inch scar on my neck, the yearly scans. The thyroid pills I have to take every day. I’m preparing for my first radioactive iodine treatment. Much preferred over chemo, but no picnic for sure. I am terrified to be away from my children for a week or more. I am terrified of actually being a physical danger to them while radioactive iodine passes through my body. I think this would be easier if my children were older. Only easier on me though. If they were older I’d have to have that conversation with them and we’d have to talk about what cancer is. This illusion shattered this morning over breakfast, or so I thought. Asher asked me, seriously between bites of toast, “Mom what’ does cancer mean?” I was totally caught off guard. Did he hear me talking about cancer? I know his Kindergarten teacher missed school one day to go to her husband’s oncology appointment, maybe he heard about cancer from her? I said, “Why, where did you hear about cancer?” He said, “You know, in the movie Grandma got ran over by a reindeer?” I was trying to think how cancer fit in to that ridiculous cartoon I let my kids watch too many times over Christmas… Then Asher explained, “Santa said we’ll have to CANCEL Christmas.” “Oh, Cancel!” I said. Phew. Cancel I can handle. (Asher pronounces “L” like an “R” sometimes)