The two weeks of waiting between Jerry’s biopsies and learning the results were difficult. We had plenty to keep us busy, including appointments almost every other day, to give everyone who requested, insight into my bodily systems in preparation for surgery 12/30.

The stress of waiting, made the celebration of the words, “No Cancer” all that much sweeter when Jerry’s doctor walked through the door Monday morning. We couldn’t help but thank God for this amazing, and honestly unexpected, answer to prayer.

I truly am grateful, and believe we’ll be stronger fighting just one cancer diagnosis than two. But still, the thought occasionally visits, “But why me?”  Of course, I know the answer to that -we don’t know why and likely may never.

I’m the caregiver. I am the one who manages the day to day; and assists my husband with his personal care needs. How can I be the one who will be out of service for several weeks?

Perhaps because I hadn’t been anticipating any health challenge, I am having a hard time wrapping my head around a cancer diagnosis. I know it’s not the end of the world. I’ve talked to several women who have been through this and “it’s no big deal.” But this is my body and it feels like a big deal. Or maybe now that I know what we are dealing with I need a little time to own it.

I understand it’s very likely I’ll need no other treatment and my recovery from the surgery may be swifter than expected. But can I sit for a little bit with my sorrow and questions and be sad?

It’s not going to be forever . . . but I don’t know how long. I think it’s part of my healing process—and even in my grief I see God’s hand of blessing. We’ve had friends and family from FIVE different states offer to come for a few days to help us out. Jerry, ever the numbers guy said, “That’s one tenth of the country represented.”

Having a husband who puts me first, incredible friends and family, and a great medical team are blessings. And I don’t discount those as gifts from my Father’s hand during this time. But I think it’s still okay to grieve and cry. This too shall pass.

 

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash