I'm shaving my head to raise money for childhood cancer research! This is something I wrote during Harley's final days. A parent should never have to feel this way and a child should never have to go through the hell that is cancer.

I hate....

this place...living here so long without any signs of life...seeing all the sobbing family members...crying myself till there are no tears left and crying some more...the constant noise that denies rest and peace...the quiet that denies rest and peace...meeting other people and not talking about our vocations, hobbies, geographical centers of our worlds and possible connections we might have...replacing those subjects with how bad off our kids are, their chances for survival, expectations for quality of life should they live...not even thinking about ways to counter the time wasted when he goes off to college...always trying to be upbeat and have a positive attitude...finding little to work with while putting a positive spin on the utterly negative...having a nice meal, but being unable to enjoy it because of the guilt associated with "something good for me while nothing good for you"...constant moaning constantly misunderstood as communication attempts...doctors talking to me like I don't understand anything...doctors talking to me like I understand everything...being a father and unable to "fix it"...being a failure at protecting my child...hospital staff talking over the weak patient so no one hears his concerns, requests, or needs...being so far removed from his pain, fears, and discomfort, but suffering from the same pain, fears, and discomfort...the chipper freshness on the start-of-the-new-shift staff when we (parents and patients) cannot suffer in shifts...going for months at a time without firsthand knowledge of the weather changes outside this building...his enjoyment of a visit by family or friends and no recollection of the visit a few short hours later...no way to explain to staffers how much my son means to me while they try to explain how much they understand because there are thousands of other patients and their families...his inability to describe the pain and our/their inability to comprehend the severity of that pain...trying to keep up hope while others are telling us to keep up hope...my mind racing, and yet somehow, being numb and dull at the same time...all the kids' families trying to reassure each other and other families that this is the best medical care available, kids should never need any care, EVER...feeling like the doctors aren't putting enough "science" and "thought" into their decisions or that they're not using "emotion" and "feelings" when considering the options...worrying when he sleeps too loud and worrying when he sleeps too quiet (the same fears as when he was a baby, unable to talk)...not being able to fart because I'm never physically alone...seeing the way other kids and parents act during a special request run to Walmart, don't they understand how bad were hurting...wallowing in self-pity...looking around ICU only to realize there are children/babies with no one here but hospital personnel...my irrational fears...hoping my fears are irrational...that I hurt when someone does something nice for me...only having two options, and they both suck...wondering...

Now I need your help! Will you make a donation? Every dollar makes a difference for the thousands of infants, children, teens, and young adults fighting childhood cancers.