If you watch the show Catastrophe, you already know Rob Delaney is a wizard alchemist at combining wit and empathy. He now uses this trademark combination in a piece for Medium, sharing his family’s gut-wrenching story of having a young son with cancer.

My baby was getting smaller, and that is a fucked up thing to see. The total amount he weighed was less than the amount of weight I should lose.

Henry’s tracheotomy tube prevents him from speaking, so I haven’t heard him make a peep for over a year. My wife recently walked in on me crying and listening to recordings of him babbling, from before his diagnosis and surgery. I’d recorded his brothers doing Alan Partridge impressions and Henry was in the background, probably playing with the dishwasher, and just talking to himself, in fluent baby. Fucking music, oh my God I want to hear him again.

Henry just turned two. We didn’t dare assume he’d have a second birthday with the prognosis he received after they took out the tumor and confirmed what kind it was. It was a real cunt of a tumor.

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