By the time I finished at the oncology appointment and went to pick up my prescription, I had been gone from the house for about five hours. A very long, very draining and taxing five hours. I didn't even know if I would have the energy to get out of the car and walk up to the house. Poor Jon, he had been waiting anxiously (quite literally) for hours...thinking I would have only been gone a couple hours max. I told him that I had to lay down like immediately so I would give him the cliff notes and then we could take a nap and talk when we got up.
I got through the first part of the information okay. He understood that I needed to give him just a run down and then talk after some sleep, and I was doing well with telling him everything. I didn't think that I even had enough energy to cry...until I reached the part about our baby. Jon pulled me to him and he just sobbed. My heart and soul were torn to shreds. I just kept saying "I am so sorry, my god I am so so sorry"...Yet even through his sorrow and pain, he is just so understanding, so beautiful. But the pain (and love) in his eyes will haunt me forever.
When I got through the short version of it all, Gabe came out and I let him know that I really needed to sleep but that we would talk when I woke. I told him some of what was going on, hoping I could at least put his mind at ease, even just a little bit. After we spoke, he said 'okay, I love you' and returned to him room. Before I could lay down, I needed to go check on him, and he was crying so hard. Sleep would have to wait.
He still had many questions that could not wait (in my opinion) until I woke up. He was worried that the whole reason the doctors were hurrying me through everything was because the Cancer is so bad. (Although I know that they are indeed hurrying because of the severity), I reminded him that they don't even truly know how bad it is because all of the tests weren't back, but that we should find comfort in the fact that they ARE getting me taken care of so fast...that me being so young, pregnant and having 3 kids that I need to care for was also making them hurry up. Once I felt he was in a better place, I headed back out to lay down.
I was then finally able to just collapse into bed. Jon and I slept for a good three hours. Not wanting to stray too far from each other in the bed, always keeping at least a foot connected. Once we woke, we sat in bed and talked about everything. We talked about the information we had learned not just from the doctor appointment but also from the books that Denise had given us. Jon had read his entire book while I was at my appointment. And it was so wonderful to be able to sit and talk about all of our fears, all of the possibilities. We talked of how overwhelming all of this information is. We wondered how we are possibly suppose to be able to process any of it. I expressed my concern about being whisked in so fast and what that must mean. We discussed what to expect from the surgeries and what we might have to expect from my chemo, including the intimate aspects. Not knowing for sure what to expect is so hard.
Again, I am going to keep our more intimate and personal aspects of all of this out, but I do want to say that I don't know what I would do without him...I suppose that goes without saying. Knowing how so many couples are unable to or need so much help to communicate, and share, and deal with things...we are just so lucky. We are so far beyond that. We also had to discuss the loss of our baby...because based on what Dr. Rado said (and the conversation he had with Dr. Turner), it was just not possible to continue on with our pregnancy. So we had to begin discussing how we could best handle this in a way that will make us feel some closure, and to pay respect to our special gift that we are losing.
Lots of tears, lots of information, some hope, so many questions, sheer exhaustion, complete gratitude..and on and on...And this ride has only begun...But as we laid down together that night, many emotions surfaced...some that I had expected...some that came as a surprise. One of those emotions was something that I had begin to feel when we first went into Dr.Rado's office, but I had just kind of needed to tuck it away at the time. And now it was resurfacing again...Why am I *choosing* to make myself sick?? Why am I going in, when I feel perfectly healthy (well not perfectly healthy but...better than I will during chemo) and MAKING myself sick. Why can't I just continue on as I am? And then if I get sick, just handle it then?? I already know the answers to all of that, but logic vs emotion can be a very tough battle.
Also, I had read that many women have a very hard time dealing with the loss of their breast. At the time when I originally was reading this, I felt things like...'how could these women even consider not having a mastectomy?? What is a breast compared to your life? I mean, it's just a breast!!! etc etc'. But that night it hit me...That's MY breast. It is a part of me, a part of me that has been with me since birth. A part of me that makes me a Woman. It is the miracle that feeds a baby, it is what helps to create the curves that make me look like a woman...and I don't want to lose it. And suddenly I understood it. Suddenly I felt fully what every woman felt who has mourned the loss of their breasts.
It has only been three days since this ride began...how is it even possible to process everything? How can my mind, my heart, my spirit take all of this in and not just explode? It says a lot about the word 'Survival'. Such a small word for the weight that it truly carries. Survival. It means so much more than meets the eye...
