Yesterday David and I went to the funeral of another beautiful young woman who also died from Ewing’s Sarcoma. That makes 3 funerals for children/teens we attended in just 7 months. This doesn’t count the funerals we would have liked to attend had they been close enough in distance. I haven’t kept track of how many children I know of that have died since Ariella but there have been at least four more whose funerals I would have attended because though I did not meet them in person, I knew them. We followed each others’ stories and offered support. They are family. There have been countless others though that I am aware of that have died, that I heard about through groups and friends. One of Ariella’s best friends attended this same funeral. That makes two of her friends that died in under a year. Children should not be making the funeral circuit. Neither should adults our age for that matter. It’s horrific enough to be a child and have cancer, but to have to watch friends die is absolutely shattering. Not only are they experiencing significant loss, but they are also faced with their own mortality. Because they know that cancer is cruel and unfair and there is no rhyme or reason to who survives. And they also experience survivor’s guilt. But that doesn’t stop these kids from becoming good friends with each other. They know the love and support and friendship is worth it, even if they experience loss because of it. Kids shouldn’t get cancer. Kids shouldn’t die. Kids shouldn’t have to attend funerals of their friends. I am so infuriated. Not enough is being done to change things. Not enough is being done to find a cure. And kids keep dying.
It was a reunion of sorts. Families we see once or twice a year at cancer events. There with their daughters, Ariella’s age. I’m so glad they are doing well. But I also wonder, why not Ariella? Why was she one of the ones who didn’t make it? She had everything going for and a good prognosis at diagnosis. The doctor that diagnosed Ariella was at the funeral. And he said that Ariella’s death really hit him hard. Because in his words, “she was supposed to survive.” And in the same year he lost another pediatric patient that he diagnosed. He said that about 20% of his practice is pediatrics because he is a sarcoma specialist. After he diagnoses a child he refers them to the pediatric oncologists. Twenty percent of his patients are children and two died within 7 months.
Being thrown into the cancer world means you are surrounded by fear, anxiety, and of course, death. Several had expressed how hard it must have been to attend the funeral after attending the funeral for our own child. But we wouldn’t have missed it. And my pain wasn’t magnified, or triggered. Because the pain is always there. Of course it brought me back to Ariella’s funeral, but many things do. But more than that we were with our cancer family. Those that provide support from near and afar. And while I am so very jealous that Ariella is unable to be with the other girls, I am glad to see them doing great. Because they are the hope and strength that permeates the cancer world alongside the fear. We didn’t choose this world, this life. No one would. But once in it, there is no escape. And we wouldn’t want to escape, even if Ariella survived. Because the love and warmth is like no other. And we get to know and care about many other children and families. That doesn’t go away. Which means we continue to celebrate the highs and feel the depths of the lows, providing support when needed. But lately there have been too many lows and not very many highs. So yes, attending the funeral of another child, young adult actually, was hard. But would have been hard no matter what. But hearing about all the lows, the devastating news, the treatments that aren’t working, is hard. Life is unbearably hard.