A parent's illness is every child's nightmare. One mother tries to make it a little easier. Anne Dempsey reports
When Catherine Thornton was diagnosed with breast cancer, she searched for a children's book to help her explain things to her son, Matthew, then eight, but could find nothing. So Catherine and her husband, Paul, discussed the best way to handle things, and named the condition to their son as cancer - sick cells that need removal via an operation. Catherine had practise in breaking bad news as her sister had contracted breast cancer some years previously, which meant Matthew's elder brothers, Robert and Simon, then in late and mid-teens, had to be informed.
Now five years later as the family has been through the diagnosis, treatment and recovery, Catherine has written, Matthew has inspired and vetted, and Robert has illustrated Why Mum?. She hopes the book will help other parents deal with an illness which changes the family dynamic.
"I told Matthew I would be in hospital for six or seven days as you need to be very precise with a small child. When they were younger, we used to explain things in terms of sleeps, so after three sleeps such-and-such will happen. Paul followed up, giving Matthew a chance to ask any questions," she says.
"The publishers wanted to illustrate the hospital scene with me sitting up in bed smiling holding a card. But we didn't agree, because it wasn't like that. When Matthew came to see me, I had tubes out of me and there was a smell of cleansers. To this day, he doesn't like hospitals."
The book also reflects what it's like for a child whose routine is completely disturbed through a mother's absence. "He went to my neighbour at the end of the road, so he was still near home and playing on the same green. An important part of the illness for someone independent like me was receiving help and accepting help when it was offered."
Home from hospital, Catherine began undergoing chemotherapy, then radiotherapy and the story chronicles Matthew's sadness and confusion that his mother was restored but different.
"The day I came home Matthew rushed to hug me and Paul literally had to hold him back because it was too sore. That was upsetting for all of us, and we still remember it. Matthew and I had spent a lot of time together, I collected him from school, we had races going home, I used to climb up on his bunk to read his bedtime story. I couldn't do those things any more.
"We had spent time in preparation at the beginning when I felt fine. But when I started the treatment, I sometimes felt so sick that Matthew slipped through the cracks. One day he burst out with everything. He was worried that I was going to die, resentful that I wasn't able to do what we used to do. I said sorry for not realising how he was feeling. We had a good chat, I explained what was going on and promised to tell him what was happening as it went along. I think it helped.
"We also told the school. I think that's vital as a child's behaviour may change, concentration may be affected, homework may slip, and the school must know what's going on."
Catherine's hair fell out during chemotherapy and she wore a wig while it was growing back which Matthew considered quite cool. "The externals don't affect children if you are still essentially yourself," says Catherine, who now wears her regrown hair in a blonde crop.
She feels what she has learnt may be of value to other parents. "I realise we need to keep children in the loop. We try to protect them and try not to frighten them by not telling them things. But children know something is going on that they are not being told, which is harder for them. Don't talk down to them. Answer the questions they ask, rather than giving wads of information, and communicate in an age appropriate way - the same way you talk to them about other things.
"The worst part for my illness regarding Matthew was not being able to do the things we did. I used to throw his bike in the boot of the car several afternoons a week and we'd go up to Marley Park. You felt you were losing out on time that would not come back. Matthew is now 12, I talked to him when I was writing the book and got him to read it when it was finished. His comment at the end was 'I thought I was invisible at that time, surrounded by all the big people'. My hope is that the book will be an introduction for other parents to the story of what happens when a parent becomes sick and gets better."
Why Mummy? A Small Child Dealing with a Big Problem by Catherine Thornton, Veritas, costs €5.95.
The Irish Cancer Society, Northumberland Road, Dublin 4, tel: 01-2310500, www.cancer.ie has leaflets on dealing with cancer in the family and a dedicated breast cancer helpline (tel. 1800 309040), which is open 9am to 5pm.
For more information about family illness, log onto the Irish parenting website www.rollercoaster.ie, clicking on 'parenting', then 'family relationships' topics.