Justin is experiencing a myriad of chemotherapy side effects this week including foot pain, fatigue, nausea and interrupted sleep. Today it was anti-nausea meds, Tylenol, a heating pad and a movie at 3am.

I have that pesky pain in my chest again, but I think it’s probably too much caffeine.

Thank you for supportive commments regarding my upcoming visit to Capitol Hill. I’m certainly no lobbyist and consider myself a better writer than speaker on any day. I’ve been told I have a heavy Jersey accent and say “um” way too many times.

I’m just a mom. But I live with the daily harsh realities of pediatric cancer every minute of my life. I have been there for every needle, every surgery, every bucket of vomit, every blood transfusion, every session of physical therapy, every spinal tap, every chemotherapy infusion, every pain, every scream, every tear, every sleepless night, every fear, every disappointment. I’ve been hit, kicked and yelled at. I’ve been vomited on, spit on, urinated on. I’ve changed diapers on a five-year-old who couldn’t stand. I’ve been Justin’s nurse, psychiatrist, educator, therapist.

This is being a cancer mom. And there are times you think about getting in your car, driving away and never coming back. But you don’t. Because most of all, as a cancer parent, you are leaned on, depended on, relied on. These are only babies for crying out loud.

I’m still not sure exactly what to say to the Congressmen and women, but I know God will give me the right words. Grace be with you my friends.