The Elitist.

 We all have those days. It is a gift from cancer to slip into your dark corner with your evil pie, let your inbox runneth over or have temporary bi-polarisim. I get it. I got it. Not right now, but the subject of this post almost drove me to crazy. This post is not about those days, it is about an encounter I that shook my mental stability.


 I recently listened to a fellow cancer mom speak from a day that shook her earth. Hearing a doctor speak the word cancer while referring to her child was a moment in time that will forever etched in her heart. Her words wreaked many familiarities, making those little suck bells chime.

 It made me think about this cancer mom snob I met.

 Most of us cancer moms can relate as we read blogs from afar or have an instant bond upon personal introduction or the swapping of our child's dx, treatment protocol or spittin' some oncology game in the clinic. You know, like throwing up your gangsta sign and nod to show respect.

  And I say most moms, because some moms have put themselves above other moms somehow, and cannot feel connected to the others that haven't been as far as they. So they say. I say I don't get it. Each day, my heart aches when I think of the families that will start their journey with a new dx and the ones that will forever walk without their child. I think about that everyday. Every. Day. Some days I hate that I know the devastation of what childhood cancer brings, other days I hate myself for not knowing earlier in my life. But never do I put myself before someone that knows what chemo smells like on their child's head.