We had been married for only 5 months. Not to mention him being so young. He said at one time, "Just the other day I was thinking to myself, 'I'm going to turn 30. I'm so old.' And now today I'm thinking, 'I'm going to turn 30. I'm so young.'"
It's been a couple of months since we found out and we're doing ok.
Do you know what the worst part of it was? WAITING.
We walked around for 23 days not knowing the answer. Did he have cancer? Did he not have cancer? Those two questions repeated in our minds over and over again for 23 days.
Feeling numb and like my heart was going to implode from all of the pain and worry I was feeling for someone I loved so much.
I think about those I've known who have walked this path before. Those who are in the waiting period. Those who are walking it now. One doesn't truly know #allthefeels until you are walking through it yourself or with someone you love. I mean, I'm a nurse and do you know how many cancer patients I have taken care of but didn't really understand their emotions, grieving process and worries? A lot.
It has changed my perspective about life and people. It has changed me as a whole person - in the way I think about life; those closest to me; and those I come in contact with. To be gentler. Kinder. More understanding.
I walk around and interact with people and think "You have no clue what I'm going through. And I have no clue what you are going through." Can we just give each other some grace? Actually, A LOT of grace? Thanks. Ok, end soap box.
It's hard. I remember I couldn't sleep. I was restless. I didn't want to be happy. I didn't want to socialize with anyone. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to cuss like a sailor in different accents (and I did and sometimes I still do).
It's funny because while I was feeling these things - the one who does NOT have cancer, mind you - the hubs was calm, cool and collected. He joked that he was going to start a blog called, "My Cancer Wife - who doesn't have cancer."
Laughter. One of the things we appreciate about each other is our sense of humor. It's a balm to our souls. A coping mechanism. A very welcomed coping mechanism.
I went back to read my journal and the things I wrote about the last couple of months:
One of the doctors was optimistic it wouldn't be cancer. ('Optimistic' was his word).
Begging through prayer it would not be cancer.
Getting the results of the MRI and at the very end, "consider sarcoma as primary consideration."
Consult with a radiation oncologist for biopsy.
Waiting for results.
A community of friends and faith-filled people being built around us. Praying with us, for us.
Taking days to cry. To hold each other.
Praying for peace and the faith to trust in God.
Getting a PET scan.
God fulfilling us with peace and faith through all of this.
Getting the phone call telling us it was cancer.
I remember reading this a few days after,
"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good..."
(I've literally read that hundreds of times. This time its meaning was so significant to me).
And writing,
"ALL THINGS WORK TOGETHER FOR GOOD. It may not be good (the thing itself: cancer) but God, You can work it into something good."
We both attest to the good things that have happened.
To big things such as him finding out he had small nodules in his lungs but the cancer had not metastasized and those nodules were tiny and common and benign.
To the small things like getting avocados for 88 cents per pound at Walmart because they didn't put up the right sign (we got like 8 avocados for like $3...and we love our avocados).
Both of those happened in the same day #justsayin
And we both attest to the bad things that have happened. Side effects of radiation to the skin. The unfairness of him being so young and healthy and this popping up out of nowhere (from somewhere but for now, from nowhere). One thing that is personal to us and I choose not to share at this time.
Sometimes we choose joy. Sometimes we choose sadness. Sometimes we choose laughter. Sometimes we choose bitterness. Sometimes we choose peace. Sometimes we choose anger. And we both agree it's ok. It's ok for us to process our emotions as long as it is not destructive to ourselves or to each other or to others.
And it's ok for us to feel as though God is not perfect in all of His ways and for us because it's part of the grieving process. I know He will give me the faith to believe those things. But for the moment it's ok.
All of this could change in an instant.
For better or for worse.
One thing I know for sure is that I have an incredible man to go through with all of this.
I once wrote this about a man I could possibly dream of:
Honest about his struggles; in love with God; kind; gentle; smart; funny; a lover not a fighter; peacemaker; loves mom and her food along with Moe (my dog nephew) and sister....now that I'm writing this out I don't think he loves Moe...; didn't judge; quick to listen, slow to anger; willingness to change.
My heart is so filled with overwhelming affection for my husband. A man filled with grace and strength.
