I’m recovering from a nasty stomach bug. It wasn’t pretty. Yesterday, I spent from around four in the morning until about six in the bathroom – and I’d love to say that I went about this quietly – I’m quite sure I woke up the rest of the household.

At 6, I managed to stumble out of the bathroom and tell my son that he needed to get ready to school (as an aside, my daughter was also sick – not the same symptoms – but was clearly not going to school). He made some usual grumblings about not going to school, I took them as “usual grumblings” and in not-so-amazing-mum fashion told him that I was not feeling well and did not have the energy for it – he had to go to school.

It’s a little hazy but I think I then started the school prep, got his breakfast and started getting the lunchbox ready. At some point, I had to run back to the bathroom – not only not pretty but a little messy – so yelled out that I needed to have a shower. I stumbled back out about 5 mins before the bus was due and asked him if he could finish the lunchbox, to which he told me he’d already done it.

I’m sure at some point during this, I told him that I had a stomach bug, that I wasn’t great but that I’d be okay. In my mind, it was obvious that this was something unrelated to the cancer – I had a bug and yes I needed to keep an eye on my temperature because of the medication I’m on but overall, it was disconnected. I’m quite embarrassed to say that I didn’t really give it another thought. I got him on the bus and then crawled back into bed.

When he came from school – some eight hours later – he ran into my room in tears asking if I was okay. He was so upset. I reassured him but realised he’d spent the day at school worrying that I was not okay. Now, I’m not sure if he would have had a similar reaction pre-cancer or maybe this is normal reaction for kids when a parent is sick and they don’t understand it? But now I’m coming out of my vomit-induced haze, I do wonder if – in the absence of understanding – he linked it to the cancer and probably to the conversations we have about what happens when the medication stops working.

I stand by talking to the kids about the fact that I have incurable cancer. I don’t regret telling them. And while, we have regular, on-going conversations about cancer, I have to realise that there are a lot of fears and thoughts that they must have that I can’t even begin to imagine. For example, me being sick might mean the medication is not working, the cancer is back and I’m going to die. As I write it – it seems quite the leap as far as logical thinking goes but without all the information, factoring in that he is just nine – quite possible that I messed this one up.

I think it’s a relatively easy “fix”, it could be just that my son needs to be reminded what cancer “is” and what it isn’t. A good start would be talking to both my kids about the nitty-gritty of cancer, so they understand better that me throwing up is not really connected. I was looking at some different resources (and have over the years), I like this one: https://www.cancercouncil.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2026/03/Talking-to-Kids-About-Cancer-2026.pdf. It reminded me that I should possibly go back to it – while at different times I have shared this with the kids but it’s been three years – things change, we remember different things. It never hurts to go over it again.

In what might be a slightly less easy fix, as much as I want others to acknowledge that the cancer is there and doesn’t go away, I need to acknowledge this too for the kids. I realise that as much as everything I do has the background noise of cancer influencing it – the kids probably have something similar. I probably should have made clear yesterday morning that I was sick and it had nothing to do with having cancer – it was a normal bug that people get.

I don’t want their lives to be overshadowed by me having cancer and I think we’ve managed so far so that it’s not just about that. However, as much as it does take up a large space in my life – it must also take up a large space in theirs too (aside from just having to deal with my bad moods and low energy). We’ve talked a little about their fears of their future without me.* There must be so many other thoughts/fears though that they are having. And I’m not sure I can always predict when those fears might be triggered.

*Well actually, as I write that, I’ve talked about it quite a lot with my daughter, less so with my son. He just once told me that he was worried that when he became famous I wouldn’t be there (still love the confidence on when not if) – we just agreed that he’d have to become famous early!

I’m not sure I need to talk about cancer more than we do – I need to go beyond the conversation. I need to show them better that there is space for them to talk about it – if they want to – outside of the big conversations we have about it. Make it clear to them that it’s okay to ask me or tell me their fears or concerns. So that on a day like yesterday, instead of going off to school worrying, my son could have felt the space to ask me if it was linked to the cancer.

Sadly, I don’t think it’s as simple as just telling them that they can always talk to me about their fears – don’t get me wrong – that’s a good start. If they are anything like me – poor souls – they’ll be good at deflecting generic statements like, you can always talk to me. I think one step in the right direction is being more open with them about some of my fears – age-appropriate, not too doomsday – by articulating my fears, hopefully it will encourage them to articulate theirs. Anyway, that’s where I have ended today – two things for me to do 1. remind them what cancer is (and what it isn’t) and my treatment side effects are; 2. share with them some of my own fears over the next period.

I’ll let you know how that goes…