April. Whoa. What a month! It's amazing how one month can change your entire outlook on life! I have a story for you, the story of this April. I must tell you this to begin with though: it has a happy ending. I just didn't want you getting worried or depressed half way through, or thinking that you stumbled into a chicken soup for the blogger's soul book or something. It was a wild an emotional ride though.
I found out just before Easter my hubby had a lump by his eye that he had been keeping to himself for awhile. He's not one for appointments, especially with doctors so I took the liberty of making him an appointment and saying, "go."
He went and that's when things began to move in fast forward. He saw an eye specialist the next morning who got him an appointment with an eye specialist in Kelowna and ordered a ct scan. The hospital got us in the same day to get him his ct scan and though the xray technician doesn't read the scans usually she said to my hubby, "go to your doctor asap."
So the eye specialist here said that the one in Kelowna had taken a 3 day weekend and would call us monday likely. He also said he could send us to Vancouver but he didn't think we'd get in sooner than Monday but if the Kelowna specialist couldn't handle it, that is where we'd be sent. We alerted some close friends in Vancouver that we may need a place to crash and asked my parents for help with the boys should that arise. Of course we have the most amazing family and friends who said no problem, we're there for you.
So all weekend we tried to act normal. Red flags had be signalled in our heads from the speed and urgency attached with all of these appointments. Conversation was forced and a little melancholy. Waiting was nearly unbearable.
Monday morning we got a call saying we could be seen in Kelowna that afternoon. Strangely, our melancholy turned to excitement just from the fact that we would have an answer and a course of action finally!
The Dr. in Kelowna examined him and then spoke gently to us. I can't remember what he said other than the words "likely" and "lymphoma". He explained he needed to do a biopsy to confirm and then he would refer him to the Kelowna Cancer Clinic where treatment would most likely be radiation. He would also need a full body scan to see if it the cancer was anywhere else.
My husband was calm and collected but I noticed him become rigid as soon as "Kelowna Cancer Centre" was mentioned. I'm not sure he even put cancer and lymphoma together until that moment. I sat in a chair across the room, glazed over.
The only consolation of the moment was this Dr.'s mannerism. Kind, gentle, helpful and sincere. He said he would do his best to get him into the biopsy surgery quickly. Then he and my hubby joked over the computer system he used for his clients. In my head was a voice shouting, "are you FREAKING kidding me? How can you joke at a time like this?! I'm barely holding it together here!"
Fortunately, my husband is the yang to my yin (or the yin to my yang when appropriate) so he held it together astonishingly well. He phoned his mom, the only person worrying more than myself, and told her the news.
On the car ride home, my husband wanted to stop for groceries. He wanted to change his diet to nearly raw, definitely cutting out wheat and dairy. His confidence was assuring. He was steady and wasn't entirely accepting of the diagnosis but still wanted to do everything he could to make sure he was the epitome of health.
That car ride home I managed to squeak out my fear of losing him. Of course as soon as you hear the big C, all you can think about is "what if"?
Again his confidence that he would not be going anywhere was reassuring... mostly.
I managed to make a joke that his body was so healthy that it was rejecting the cancer and trying to push it out through his eye. It made him laugh and that soothed me.
We got a call the next day that his surgery would be in a week. That was a long week. Especially the next day. I just couldn't shake the "what if I'm left all by myself" worry. I admire my single mother friends so much already but that week gave it a whole new admiration. You are on 24/7 as a single mom. I wasn't sure I had it in me.
The next days were better. A slow trust began to trickle back into my soul, knowing you are only handed what you can handle. Also positive thoughts were my crutch. Every night before bed I would take my special gratitude rock and say "thank you, thank you, thank you for my husband's good health."
Every time I looked at my husband I felt a renewed love for him. I looked differently at the things he did daily that make my life and my boy's lives so much easier and better. I turned away from things that normally annoy me. I let him take care of himself first. I held his hand any time I could. I made him raw salads and desserts so he wouldn't get bored with his new diet. I funnelled all my love into my family, activities together and apart, trying to keep things normal but with an amped up frequency of love.
I asked his parents to join me for the big day. His mom and I are close and let every word we exchanged hug each other with comfort and support. His dad, always the tension diffuser, kept us amused, fed, and de-caffeine-ated.
The surgery should have taken an hour but lingered on for an hour and a half. We weren't sure what his condition would be but soon saw him walking the corridor towards us with a huge smile on his face.
He had great news. The doctor went in under the eye lid as planned and the first thing he noticed was that the color of the mass was not that of lymphoma which should have been salmon pink, it was blood red. The doctor then proceeded to explain it was an anomaly called a blood lesion that he had not seen in twenty years. It also shows up the same as lymphoma on a ct scan. He had done his doctoral studies in them and the removal of them, and would he like him to remove it right now? Um, hell yah?
It was more involved surgery having to cut down the corner of the eye to remove the lump the size of his thumb! He was off a week and couldn't lift the boys for 10 days but the relief was all we cared about. The biopsy came back with extra assurance of no cancer.
The relief was felt emotionally and physically, literally like a 50lb backpack was removed from my shoulders. Celebration can't even begin to describe it as his mom and I spent the whole way home alerting family and the few friends we had told of the situation. Lighter was the describing word of the day, physically, emotionally, and attitude wise.
Obviously, the cancer word should not have been essentially diagnosed until after the biopsy results. I understand the doctor's thinking, since these are an anomaly and he hadn't seen one in twenty years it was likely in his head weighed heavily against the odds. I have no resent for this wonderful doctor, I am happy the situation happened actually.
For one, the lump is gone and his eye is back in the right spot, hopefully to recover full vision. Unfortunately, because the lump pressed on the eye and lifted it, wrinkles formed on the back of the eye distorting his vision. With hope time will fix it.
For two, I got a renewed sense of love and appreciation for my husband, my family (immediate, extended and friends), our life and even myself. Life seems short when the thought of losing life comes up. The little things like holding hands and all four of us sitting on the couch together and watching a movie become the big things and the little things become everything that doesn't include this love.
My life is full of love and I will continue living my life with love as my first priority. This includes self love, always a challenge but always important.
Our 10th anniversary of being a couple was a month ago, amidst the chaos of "cancer". Tomorrow is my husband and I's 7th wedding anniversary. I look forward to celebrating this anniversary not with a tone of "cherishing and remembering our love" but of appreciating the survival and thriving of our love and all the years left to share and grow together.
xoxoxoxo
