Today is Friday.
I used to love Fridays. Fridays were days my husband and I would end our busy hectic week and have a "Date."
Fun dates for old farts?
We would get dressed up in our best.
Pretty dresses with sparkles and sequins.
High heeled stilettos.
My husband always in a suit. Two people in love doing a simple thing. Enjoying a lovely dinner together and connecting. Romance.
We found a quiet romantic French restaurant about 45 minute drive from our house or if we were both away, we would make the extra effort to save Friday for each other. Our favorite French waiter. Our very own special booth. Dark and cozy. Candlelight.
A romantic dinner. No discussing troubles of the week~ only absorbed in each other. It was like glue. It brought us back to us and our marriage and kept it exciting.
French Bread smothered in rich creamy butter. Baked Alaskan Salmon with a Lemon Mousseline Cream Sauce. Couscous. Grilled Asparagus. Shrimp Cocktail. Creme Brule.
(Date Night is highly recommended even to those just dating or those married for years.) It doesn't have to be a fancy restaurant just time spent together.)
Today is an average Friday except....
Now my husbands throat hurts like mad. The surgeon called me yesterday to check on him and told me he had to cut and used forceps during the biopsy to remove the equivalent of a shot glass full of cancerous tissue to allow him to breath until treatments start.
Pudding, scrambled soft eggs and milk shakes. Nothing romantic about that menu.
Today. Friday. Right now. I am sitting in an Oncology Waiting Room while my beautiful husband is in a room away getting fitted for a Mask.
Wait! What? A mask?
After the Oncology Doctor told us untold horrors of what this radiation will do, he is set up with a mesh formfitting mask to mark where the beams will go and more importantly hold his head and neck still when they clamp it to the table so the beams only go to the affected neck tumors.
Naturally, this lousy support system, ME, broke down and I had to race out of the room to sob into a very ugly painted hospital wall wailing and once again be a complete basket case. I would never want me on my side in a crisis like this! Strong? Ha! I'm pathetic.
Some of the symptoms of radiation to your neck and throat:
Severe sore throat.
Loss of hair
Loss of taste
Loss of saliva
Loss of teeth
Get a feeding PEG tube placed next week in the stomach to "eat" six to eight cans of Boost or Ensure a day.
Loss of feeling in your mouth, tongue and throat.
No shaving. (I used to love to watch my husband shave. It is such a manly ritual.)
No After-Shave. (I love to see and smell his face with Old Spice or whatever the cologne of the day is. Real men smell good)
No lotions, sprays or any other products anywhere near the head or neck to avoid extreme skin reactions.
All of this five days a week for 7 to 8 weeks. Treatment to begin in a week or so after a trip to MD Anderson in Huston for a second opinion.
I don't paint a pretty picture, huh? The word for today is Bleak.
Well, this is just Radiation Oncology.... Monday is Chemotherapy Oncology.
That's where the bad really begins...
I need to get my Big Girl Panties on and be ready for Monday. Chemo is no joke either.
Watching someone you love and to see and know how bleak the future looks in regards to THEIR pain and suffering, is as difficult as it gets. My very heart is breaking.
If I could in ANY way take this cancer and it's difficult treatment and do all of this for him, I would jump at the chance.
Where ARE my Big Girl Panties anyway????