I Am a Man and I Cry

I cry for my son. I cry because he is fighting cancer, for not knowing what will happen, for giving him chemotherapy that I know will make him hurt, because it will save his life.

I cry for my son. I cry when I see him sick, sick from chemotherapy, sick from infection, sick from being away from home, because I cannot explain well enough.

I cry for my son. I cry when I see side effects of chemotherapy, when I see him in pain, when we give him medicine for his side effects and for his pain, because he does not understand.

I cry for my son. I cry when he takes medication as a result of taking medication, when he does not want to take his medication, when I have to hold him while his medication is given, because my son takes medication.

I cry for my son. I cry when I watch him go under anesthesia, when he needs a surgical procedure, when he needs tests and scans, while I wait, when he wakes up, because he realizes what has happened.

I cry for my son. I cry when he cannot fight off infection, when we give him antibiotics, when we give him blood products, because we will need to do it again.

I cry for my son. I cry when he wants me to put a Band-Aid on a boo-boo I cannot see, when he cannot explain what hurts, when he wants me to kiss his boo-boo, because I kiss his boo-boo.

I cry for my son. I cry when today is over, when I go to sleep, when I wake up, before my day begins, when I think about all of this, when I am alone and not in front of my son, because he does not know.

I cry for my son. I cry for my son who is 3 years old and because my son is fighting cancer.

I cry because tomorrow and every day thereafter another father and mother will cry for their child fighting cancer, because they will cry for all of this, and for the next child and for his and her parents, and they will cry also.

I am a man and I cry.

Read another story written by a parent of a child with cancer (this one may make you cry, too): “Thank you, Mom, for Taking Care of Me When I’m Sick“