How To Be a Widow II

Time passes and memories of the last painful days ebb just the tiniest bit each day but the hurt is still simmering there, right beneath the surface.

24/7

You wake up each day and the sun still shines. Days pass and you even laugh. I still have feelings of guilt for being here and alive and Henry is not.

Had it only been me to go and not him. Visiting his grave each day, I want to open it up and crawl inside.

I have begun going to grief counseling and that helps. To be in a group of others...mothers, fathers, husbands, wives. All of them love and lost and it hurts. They say that "Time heals all wounds" but there is one addendum to that old adage and that is that time may heal but a scab forms and the slightest thing such as a song or smell or memory opens it up and the heart bleeds. Again.

I am strong.

I can do this.

Each day I get up. I apply lipstick and put one foot forward and life continues.

Henry would want me to be happy. He loved reading my blog and my watching my videos. The best thing about my husband was that he listened to me. I mean really LISTENED to me. Whether it was about lipstick or kids or the dogs. No subject matter was too small or too slight.

He listened to me. And isn't that what a "best friend" does?

Simply put, we had a marriage that many dream of. My best advice for success in any relationship is so easy and simple.

Be KIND to each other.

That's it.

Be kind.

Kindness is as easy as it is implied.

We all argue or feel our side or point of view is the correct one.

Would you rather always be RIGHT or always be HAPPY?

I choose being happy. Being right all the time is too much work.

I'm no one's doormat but I also don't feel the need to push my opinions, thoughts or ideas down anyone's throat.

I want so bad to go back and watch the videos that my husband was in but that day will be a long way off. We had so much fun making them. We had so much fun EVERY day!

Henry told me how proud of me he was daily. He told others I was "The Love of his Life."

I received sympathy cards from so many friends that wanted to share that Henry would always say that. *sigh*

Being the Love of His Life.

What a GIFT!

Those words help ease the pain. Just a tad.

The day of the showing was exhausting but with the love and support of my family and friends, we all got thru it. Ten hours of people and stories and so much love for my husband. It's funny to feel so close to so many strangers, acquaintances, and those you love all wrapped up into one day. I have found that when people tell me they knew my husband, I feel an instant bond. You knew him? Oh, please tell me more! Just talking about him keeps him alive in my heart and probably theirs as well.

The day of the funeral was to be grueling. To send a loved one off into eternity forever?

How does one do that?

I sat down each day and wrote down everything. Writing is therapy for myself and many others. Henry loved my writing. He made me promise to continue, hoping it would not only help me but others going thru an ordeal like this or something similar. If it helps one wife or sister, parent, brother or child that has lost a love, then all the better.

I love you all so much. Your kindness does indeed honor Henry and my gratefulness to you is more than I can put into words. We were both so blessed.

Be kind. Be kind to those you love and even to those you don't.

More later....

We're Going To Blow Something UP Today!

Friday 10:00 a.m.
4th of July Weekend
4th Radiation Treatment


Upside:
Today is a 3 day weekend so we will get a small reprieve from the grueling schedule of 3 doctor appointments, scans, blood tests, and consults a day. 
Thank You God!


Downside:
One less day to shrink cancer cells. 
Henry had his brain CT Scan yesterday and I have to admit it has been weighing on my mind. Heavily.  Like a ten ton Boeing 757.

While he was in having the scan, the tech came out to the waiting room to gently ask me to move to a different room way down the hall. 
Why? What's wrong? Are they afraid I will hear something? 
Some word or hint that the tumor has traveled to my husband's brain?
I keep peeking out of my long distance waiting room. I see what looks like a gurney with a body on it but it's heading in the opposite direction of the MRI Imaging room my husband is in. Whew.



I see the woman that hugged me from the very 1st Radiation treatment. She doesn't seem as upbeat today as she was on Tuesday. Her eyes seem to light up just a hint when she spots me.  She slowly, painfully comes nearer. 
"How are you?" I ask.
In a bare whisper she tells me her sister is coming for the Holiday weekend. 
"Yay!"
I say in response. She seems so down today. 
So Dim. Unlike the glowing angel  that God seemed to have sent before. 
"Yes, it will be good to see her. She will have gotten back from a cruise to Alaska. I was supposed to go on that trip but Lung Cancer stopped me. I found out I had it the day after we bought the tickets."
"Oh, but you can go with her on the next trip!" I say with a lighthearted grin.
"Darlin, there will not be any more trips for me. I was just told my cancer has spread to my brain."

No!!!!
Not her brain. My husband is in the room down the hall getting his radiation treatment and we are waiting to get the results if this has traveled to his brain too.
Please not him. Please not HER! God WHY?
Beautiful, normal, kind people should not ever get this disease. No one should! 
Send it to Al Qaeda. Bottle it and give it to baby killers not these gentle souls!
She hugs me again only today she seems so weak.  She takes my face in both her hands and says "It's Gods way. I am not afraid. I'm tired. You fight. It's life. Life is Good."
Her eyes are so beautiful and she slowly walks away.
I hope I see her again. You see, I'm not a newbie today. I am beginning to feel like a veteran now. 4 days down and 36 more to go.
My husband has been gone a while. Too long. 
Hmmm. A nurse comes to get me. Oh God. 
The results of the Brain Scan?
I walk with her back into a long corridor. I see my husband sitting slumped low in a chair. He looks as nervous as I do.  Dread.
I have decided that IF this vile cancer has spread to his brain we will need to have a talk about a whole different direction. Chemo can not KILL cancer cells in the brain, Radiation only SHRINKS them. My husband only has the ONE shot at radiation. His spinal cord is dangerously close to being fried the way it is. To add more to his head would be too much and chemo can't touch it. Why go thru ALL of the pain and torture of Radiation and chemo only to die of brain cancer in a few months anyway?  Decisions.
The nurse leaves us alone together in the room and softly closes the door. The oncologist will be in shortly. All we can do is stare at each other across the room. What words can you possibly say to each other when gripped in absolute fear? The results of this test are holding our near future in the balance.

When I say go in a whole new direction... I mean to do nothing. Just let the cancer eat him alive and the tumors will suffocate him. 
Death in 3 minutes but a very rough 3 minutes. 


Tick tick tick. I can hear the clock on the wall. It seems as if we are suspended in time and fear. Waiting.
Footsteps outside the door. No!
Don't open the door. Stay Out! Go Away!
We can just live in this room forever. No one enter. 
If the door remains closed, it will not come to us. 
My heart has stopped as the doctor comes in and sits down in her swivel chair and pulls it close with it's squeaky wheels that seem so loud as they scrape along the linoleum.
She takes my husband's hand.
"Henry, How are you feeling? Any concerns?"
Concerns? CONCERNS?
He can't even verbalize it.  I stand up. 
Quickly Erect. 


"What does the Brain Scan show?" I seemed to scream it. High pitched and desperate. Feral.


"Your Brain Scan shows NOTHING" she says. 
"We will proceed as normal."


The sighs of relief in the room are palpable. Our eyes lock in a second of victory. It hasn't spread!


I swear to each and every one of you that has read this and uttered even a short prayer to God above that what you have done is a miracle and I am so thankful. Positivity. The notes and letters have been our lifeline. We feel you with us. We know we are not alone. Each and every one of you is with us on this journey and we welcome you.  You seem to be behind us... Pushing us. Forward. Strength from You.
We Thank You!



I got the 20 years I had lost in these last worried days back today.
We are going to go out BLOW Something UP!!!!!!
Life is Good.
Tuesday we get a second opinion. The doctor we are going to see is the one that treated Lance Armstrong and he is in remission. (The cancer had spread to his brain as well but he beat it!)
 Our good friend and former Indianapolis Colts Quarterback pulled some major strings and got us in to see her. The usual wait time is months not days. This same doctor successfully treated his mother with Breast Cancer. 
Thank You!
(Do you notice a pattern here? All of these remarkable doctors are Women!) Education.

Tests

10:00 a.m. 2nd Radiation treatment.
All went pretty well. 
Going into the Oncology clinic is an experience in itself. Sad to say, I never knew these places even existed... Before now.
Everyone should go to one. It's a kind of sacred place in an odd kind of way.


It is kind of like a Methadone Clinic I once had to go to pick up papers of a drug addicted mom.
Everyone arrives at their own designated time. We all seem like addicts that arrive and wait to get the drugs they pass out but instead of drugs, it's radiation beams. Most everyone has black marks penned in on their bodies where the Radiation will blast them. It's like they wear a badge of where the cancer is located on their ravaged bodies.  My husband's lines his entire neck and down his chest.
There are loads of chairs and tables, coffee and a large table where the patients with no family to sit and hold their hand seems to congregate. On the table is a beautiful puzzle being put together by the hands of cancer patients. Some are at the end of their treatments and some, like us are just beginning. 
You can tell the newbies because we have that "I'm so lost. I'm so scared" look in our eyes. The veterans seem so used to it, almost hardened to it. 

Today, I was sitting in my chair and this tall slim gorgeous woman walked in and checked in at the front desk. She had very short almost white hair. I noticed her because she had on a pretty white ruffled top and cute jeans. When she turned around, we smiled at each other.
She was stunning. So elegant even with her practically bald head and perfect makeup. 
I have never known a stranger so I commented to her how beautiful she looked and her makeup was so pretty. She told me that her makeup routine is her saving grace. She told me it is her sanity at the beginning of her day. I asked her how far she was into her treatment. She said she has been doing this since November non-stop! Wow.
She had gone into remission for one week and it has flared back up but this was her Journey. She told me she knew her journey would soon be over and she was ready. She was tired.
 I remembered my first blog post was named A Journey of Fear. 
She must have seen the fear and anguish that is like an envelope that surrounds me.. She sat by me and held my hand and whispered to me that it was all God's way. I sat in the middle of a very crowded waiting room while a perfect stranger held me in her arms and comforted ME. This beautiful woman had probably been thru more hell that I can even imagine. She hugged me and held me in her arms for a very long time. She seemed to never want to let go.
My journey with my husband is just beginning and I have the horrible feeling that her journey is about to end too soon.  I cried and cried and this seriously ill woman held me so close. 



Today, my husband refused to eat. He has lost so much weight. I see his once so perfect athletic butt fading before my eyes. His arms are looking so thin. I try and BEG him to eat but he says just the thought of food makes him nauseous.  
I made a pact with myself to NEVER eat in front of him. Ever. How could I? This is a man that loved his steaks and pizzas and junk food. Today, I grabbed a bologna sandwich and hid behind the freezer in the storage room and ate it standing up, hurrying in case he came to find me. It just seems so wrong to enjoy food in front of him when he can't any longer. His feeding tube surgery is scheduled for the 7th of July.  He will get fed but will never taste it.


We have a brain MRI tomorrow after the 3rd radiation treatment. For some heinous reason, this rare cancer loves to find a home in the brain. 
I pray his head is sharp and clear.  He is fading on me and my heart is aching. He says he's tired already and this fight hasn't really even begun!
His best friend and former NFL coach  is flying in next week to stay a few days. I am crossing my fingers those two "good ole boys" can talk about football, quarterbacks and game days and he'll be a motivator for him. We need a miracle right now.


PS. Floridapossum/ Pamela has started a candle site for my husband and I am amazed once again by all of you. I showed this to my husband tonight and he broke down in tears. 

floridapossum said...

Hey Sweetie did you see all the beautiful candles we've lit for y'all? http://www.gratefulness.org/candles/candles.cfm?l=eng&gi=LI

People are still lighting them. 

All of the candles lit for him all from perfect strangers from across the globe is simply astonishing to us both! 
Your words are like magic and we treasure each letter, message, comment and tweet. 
I only wish I had the energy and time to personally answer each one.  You are all pushing us both forward and I feel you there. You bring us comfort.
I love you all and love your messages of Hope and Love.