Was My Husband Cheating? Susan K Clisby HOMEWRECKER

My darling husband died in June. Almost every week someone would leave a red or pink rose on his grave. Once the absolute numbness of losing him wore off and I began to take notice of the things around me, I began asking family and friends if THEY had left a rose. Always the same answer…. No.
It continued. 
Late summer, Fall and even the dead of winter. Every time I went to visit and grieve for my husband, a rose was there. It truly began to make me feel upset and uncomfortable. My husband's grave was all I had of him. That and our precious memories. Why would someone intrude on that?
Time passed. Life went on. Days came and went. The grief was always there waiting to bubble up at a song, a smell or a memory. 

3 Months later, I had posted a blog about my sadness and grief. 
It was less than 4 days later I got this note in the mail:

Lana

I stumbled across your website a couple of years ago.

Your videos and blog actually made me throw up in my mouth!

Nobody cares what you wore to the funeral. You are a Martyr widow. Nobody cares that you wore black gloves. But, really, my dear, long black gloves in 90 degree weather? A big fine from The Fashion Police. You are not a movie star or royalty so come down off your high horse. Your story about the "five dots" just makes you delusional. You and your DEAD husband had seperate lives. At least HENRY did, if you get what I mean.

Personally, you are Trailer Trash and the perfect example of how money can't buy you class.

Henry deserved better.

I was shocked, hurt and stunned. 
What kind of woman writes a note like that just to hurt? I have always been an advocate and strong supporter of women. 
Writing a note to criticize what I wore to put my husband in the ground for eternity? Why would she even care? 
Was my husband cheating on me? 
I didn't ever feel that he was. We were happy together and in love.
I never had that "gut" feeling. We were together almost constantly.
Even if he was cheating on me,  what she was doing was nothing more than mean and so cruel!
I had no proof. I had no peace.
I began to suspect everyone! Stranger's that smiled at me in the grocery store. People I didn't know that added me on FaceBook. 
Even friends. I felt as though I was in a bubble and just the slightest thing could burst it and I would disappear completely. 
I had to know. My close friends volunteered to go stake out the cemetery. All I wanted was a name. A face.


The roses continued.
I placed our wedding picture in a beautiful frame and had it waterproofed and placed it lovingly at his tombstone.
Our Wedding….A happier time and place.  
The picture disappeared.
Still the roses came.
I went to winter at my Florida home in the sunshine. Henry never far from my heart and mind.
I returned. More fresh roses lying on my husbands grave in the sweet smell of newly cut grass and Indiana sunshine.

In late June this year, I decided to hell with my humiliation. What did it matter anyway? Isn't catching and exposing this person more important  than feeling embarrassed and humiliated? I was hurt enough. Nothing he/she could ever do could hurt as much as losing my sweet Henry so I began asking friends what they would do? I also posted a YouTube video explaining it all.

After a lengthy discussion my good friend Kevin told me to place a deer camera on a tree in the cemetery to catch whoever it was. 
A what?
I never knew they had such a thing…..
He helped me choose one and place it in the proper place near my husband's grave.
More later……

Some Help From Heaven

Ok, let's see if I can write this without breaking down completely....

After my husband died, each of his three sons  came to me to ask if they could have his Rolex watch. 
The fact that there are 3 boys and only one watch and I had bought it for him as a Christmas gift, I told each of them that I would rather keep it myself. 
It broke my heart to turn them down. They were hurting just as bad as I was. They lost their dad/best friend/boss after all. 

It was a decision I would later regret....

After my husband died, I had moved, re-arranged my life, made adjustments. Learned to cope.
I paid off my house, moved, bought two cars, made decisions I hadn't had to make in many years. My husband did it all.
He was gone.

I had to have some small construction done in my Florida home. I hired a crew to do the work. All was going ok.
The house seemed alive with people.
The men were in and out of my house every day beginning at 7:00 a.m. to end of day.
One of the men from the construction crew saw and remarked on my husbands beautiful watch. 
"Wow, that's one pretty watch."  He declared when he saw it as he passed through the Master Suite where I had placed it the night before.

I made a quick mental note to hide it in the house or to take it to my safe deposit box.... The landline phone rang...  the conversation forgotten  as I ran to answer it in the bustle of the buzzing saws and hammering noises of the construction going on in the next room.

That night,  as I lay in bed reflecting on the happenings of the day, I remembered and as I raced to check on it,  the watch was gone! Gone!
Disappeared from the place it was just that morning. 
My heart sank.

I immediately called the police. 
A flood of regret washed over me. My beautiful husband's watch on another man's arm? Lost? Missing. 
I felt so broken. 
Why hadn't I given it to one of the boys? At least then it would be safe. Treasured. Still in the hands of those that love my husband not some stranger.

Sadly, the police took my information, filed a report and told me they would do what they could to trace it if it showed up in a pawn shop but warned me that the chances were slim of ever getting it back. 

The owner of the construction company had nothing to offer in the way of help either. I had no proof. There was only my suspicion that the young man that had asked about it had actually taken it.  
My chances of ever seeing that watch again were slim to none.
I felt so hopeless.

I can't do anything right!
Who allows their deceased husband's watch to be stolen from their own home????

I had many things of my husband's that evoked so many sweet memories of him but I could squeeze my eyes shut real tight and SEE that watch on his big strong arm when he was alive and healthy. 
The bright shiny gold would glitter in the sun as we would walk hand in hand into church on a beautiful Sunday morning. Out to dinner and I would see it on his wrist in the dim light of a candlelit restaurant as he reached across the table to grasp my hand. Every night I would see it on his side of the bed carefully placed on the night stand ready to be worn to the office as he rushed out the door.

Weeks passed then months. No word from the Florida State Police Department. Nothing. 
Not a day passed by that I would not think of my husband and his missing watch. It was eating my soul to know I had let it slip away.
Gone.

My husband's birthday was approaching.  May 6.
His first birthday away from me. All I could do was cry. 
I miss him so much. Every day.

 May 6, 2013
I went to the cemetery in the morning. As I stood there in the early light of the beautiful spring day, I told my husband what had happened. Explained my stupidity. Not just about the watch but many other stupid things I have done in the months since he passed.

I slowly drove home. Going to the cemetery was my way of going to "visit" my husband and it always made me feel sad but slightly better to know he was lying there waiting for me... someday. 
We share a headstone.  

When I arrived home, my phone rang. 
Pinellas County Police Department. 
They found the watch!!!

What? Really? How?

The person that stole it had posted it for sale on Craigslist. 
It was posted at 11:30 p.m. and it was recovered by midnight and on it's way back to me via USPS overnight. 

I got my husband's precious watch back and will watch over it like it's Fort Knox from now on. 
I don't believe that the deceased can see ALL we do but I believe they do know what is bothering us.  
To get that watch returned at all was a miracle. To get it back on my husband's birthday confirms that to me. I was beating my self up every single day for letting it slip away from me. 

Rest in Peace Sweet Henry. Every second that ticks by on your precious watch reminds me of you.
 I love and miss you so much.

Here is the Craigslist posting that the police were able to trace to the stolen watch:

"No Cry" Days

The old saying is that a widow should not buy anything or sell anything for a year after her husbands death. No major decisions to made within that 365 day exile. 
Blah.
So... I tried that for 3 months. It blows!
What? Sit and look at walls? Wear black for months and go to the cemetery? Not smile or chat or laugh?
I did all that too.
It's exhausting and it does nothing more than cement into your skull that your man is gone. It is all a constant reminder of sadness. Don't get me wrong. I am sad. I cry on people.
Oh Lord do I cry on poor unsuspecting people!

I went to see my dentist. I had neglected most everything about myself so it was time. My dentist is also a friend. He entered the exam room with my x-rays in hand, said hello, touched my arm and in 1.3 seconds, I was blubbering all over his scrub-shirt. Not just the pretty tears that fall from your eyes like in movies but the full-on sobbing UGLY cry. 
(I may have to switch dentists now I am so embarrassed)
Same with my Priest. My postman. My Veterinarian.  The cashier at the grocery...
The list goes on, I am sorry to say.
Hey.. I think I we get a pass when we lose a loved one. 
So, back to better news...
I decided to break all of the rules of being a widow.
I always claimed to be a "rule-breaker" so why stop now?
I'm done caring if people in my community judge me for crying too much. 
I hear them whispering... 
"Oh look, she cries too much. Her black dress is so big on her. She looks awful. Her eyes are red.
She's lost weight. She's aged 10 years."

Oh, Bite Me!

If people have so much to say about YOUR life... That says very little about their own, right?

Words to live by.
I haven't got all the answers on how to act or what to do. I never have! We just do what we can. Life is short. I plan on living each and every day in honor of my husband but to the fullest.
So... 
I ran away from home!
It's so liberating. I am going back in a week.
Don't want to but have to...
Some of Henry's old football players from the Denver Broncos and basketball buddies from Purdue are honoring him with a benefit memorial. All proceeds will go to the Purdue Athletic Department in his name. It will be a sad and emotional day but I have my Big Girl Panties all picked out and laid out for that day. 
I can DO this and I will. 
Oh and I bought a new car. My dream car. 
I thought it would make me happy. Things don't make you happy. People do. 
I have amazing people in my life.
I am so blessed.
More later.

I Love You.

He Was All I Have

Hello to all of you that have sent all of the amazing notes and to the ones that left me a Tweet or note here  every day, I owe you big-time.
You have no idea how these notes got me thru these last months. I got where I actually looked forward to them. They were a tiny bright spot in an otherwise very dark time.
A thin thread to a different place.


When I was approached to write a book during my husbands treatments, I told the publisher that I wouldn't write about his passing but instead go back. All the way back to my life as a child. 
It was a compromise. 
I totally dropped the ball on my writings the last 4 - 5 months. My hands were full with caring for the love of my life. Who can write when their heart is being crushed. I stopped everything and devoted every second to my husband.
He is gone.
I cry just thinking of him. 
I miss him so much it hurts like a physical pain. 
I seem to hang at the cemetery.
I rake and clean and preen and decorate his gravesite. 
Somehow it gives me comfort. I had to stop telling family and friends that I go there 3 times a day. Now they look at me funny as if I am loco.
Maybe I am.
It's like going to his place. It's all I have.
Someday soon I will write about it all. The 
last months, the beautiful love we had, and his passing.
Right now, I am so raw inside it would come out as rambling jibberish.
Writing clears my thoughts.  It's all I have.
Henry died the way he lived... His way.
If someone can die beautifully, he did.
I held him in my arms. He was all I have...

What a Day

Thursday 5:00 a.m.
I am writing this in complete darkness on my iPad on 3G.
How did we ever get by in life without 3G?

Now that treatments are over and we are "Out to Pasture" I finally made an appointment to get my hair done. Nasty looking roots and scruffy hair. Who am I these days?
I needed a three hour window between feeding tubes, bandage dressings, pills and just being "nurse" and was really looking forward to today. 
To go to a salon and forget for three hours and be pampered. *sigh


My three hour hair appointment was going to be like Heaven. Escape.
3 hours in a beauty salon... New sights and smells and people becoming beautiful. Beautiful hasn't been in my vocabulary at all lately. I feel a mess. No feeding tubes or bandages or nausea here... As soon as my sister Karen applies the color to my hair and the foil wraps I take two minutes to call home.
The phone rings. I almost hang up worried that I will have woken him and sleep is so precious right now. It comes and goes for him in 3-5 minute intervals. The mucus is like the Spawn of Satan waiting there to choke or drown.
One more ring and I'm going to hang up and fly out the door foils and all and go check on him. I can peek in the window and just see and know he's alright.


He answers in a sad little croak. "Hello?"
"How are you? Are you ok?" I ask with a load of apprehension sitting on me like a brick bat.
"I'm fine. He answers back but I can tell, Something isn't fine.
"What is it? I can tell by your voice something's up, now spill it. Spill it now!" 





I tell him with so much authority. 
When did I become so authoritative?
He knows I mean business so he tells me. 
"I found a lesion on my tongue. It's small but it hurts."
My heart just sinks and I swear I feel every foil on my head go limp.
A sore on his tongue could mean this stuff is spreading. Already? Treatment just ended on Monday. Does this and can this metastasize so quickly? Not going there. I am being and living and EATING positivity these days. Eating it for breakfast lunch and dinner.
"I'm on my way out the door" I screech into the phone. My voice so high pitched I don't even recognize that it's me once again in panic mode.
"I'm fine Lana.  Just relax and then check it when you get back. I shouldn't have told you" he says so weakly into the phone, his voice so tired.


My day at the salon just turned not so fun and I asked Karen to step it up. It's finished and looks fine. 
It's hair.
I race home. There is a storm brewing. 
Big dark evil looking clouds fill the afternoon sky as I pull into the garage.
I run in the house throwing my handbag and heels to the side like they are enemies and get to work.
I check out this lesion. It's there but not as horrible as I had imagined on the drive home.
I will call the doctor tomorrow or as soon as this storm rages itself out. The wind is picking up and lightning strikes are everywhere outside. The world seems to be groaning in response to my fear of lesions and bad hair.
I set out to feed Henry his meal via his feeding tube. Sometimes I feel like I have a 3 month baby to care for, but as moms we don't mind feedings etc. It's what we do.
Te phone rings as soon as I flush the tube with water and shut it. It's my son telling me to watch the weather reports. It's getting worse outside by the minute.Sheets of sideways rain, hail and wind.
I run to gather candles and flashlights as the dark sky menaces and the wind howls.
I hear a limb crack off the 75 year old trees in the front yard.
The power flickers then goes off with a crack of nearby lightning then goes off. 
Total darkness.


My husband is pacing in circles and I can see in the dim light of the flashlight that he is looking  the color of a rotten green egg and says he feels nauseous.
My cell phone rings.
It's my mother in law's nurse. Her oxygen is run by electric and the power has been cut off by the storm. Can I come next door and help her? The reserve portable tanks are there and full of precious air but she can't get them running. 

Are you serious right now?

I can hear the  hail as it bounces off the skylights. :Ping


Lightning strikes are coming faster by the second. The storm intensifies and so does my husbands nausea.
My husband is on his knees puking into the guest powder room toilet. The storm is raging.
Who and what do I do first?
This rescue of my mother in law's oxygen supply has been practiced and rehearsed many times by her in the last 6 months. She lives in constant fear of the power going out and her oxygen being cut off. 
She will panic and I know it. She's 95 and very ill herself. 
She's 95.
At 95 years old you get one thing in your mind and that's all that's there. Her oxygen situation. She dwells upon it. 
Daily.


I asked her once, "Sally, if there's a full on tornado going on and your power goes out, what do you want me to do?" 
I truly dreaded her answer. She's 95 you know.
"Why Lana,  you come over and get my portable oxygen going for me!"
Simple as that, huh?
Just open the door and do I run over on foot or drive my car? Which is safer in a tornado?


 I check on my husband in the weak light of the flashlight. I give him cold washcloths for his mouth and get him settled back into his chair. He's ok just wracked by the heaves to his sore damaged throat and the newly filled feeding tube. Hurling with all that is so painful and traumatic.


I grab my big umbrella.
The storm has not let up one bit.

I brace myself, count to three and run the 200 yards to my Mother In Law's house.  My new hair-do or the fear of lightning hitting the umbrella? I throw the umbrella aside and make a dash. Run!
Her oxygen is off, the house is pitch black and the girl we hired to care for her is scared to death. Of the storm or the lack of Sally's oxygen I don't know which.
 Her hands are shaking. I can't see her face in the pitch darkness but I can sense her fear. 
I get her oxygen running and do most of it by memory in the dark as the storm rages on outside. Done. 


Now back home I race across the yard that separates our two houses to check on Henry.
He looks so wan and weak. Pale and puny.
Tomorrow we go for blood work and IV fluids to hopefully give him some pep in his step.
Still no electricity. 

10:45 a.m. Thursday
We arrive at the chemo infusion clinic with no showers and half brushed teeth. Mussed up hair and yesterday's clothes on.  All this from a girl that would apply blush just to go out to get the mail.
We sit in a private infusion room. No more 3G today as I write this down in my blog.  The Chemo clinic has power!
My blog has become my lifeline to the outside of this cancerous world we have found ourselves dumped in to.
Storms are over. 

One Bloody Bad Day

Today was misery.
We woke up at 3:30 to be at the hospital at 6:00 a.m.
Answer questions for charts and more records.  Allergies, meds etc. Red Tape.
The RN who was so sweet began an IV but blew a vein straight away. 2nd try. She infiltrated the vein this time. I saw the Lactating Ringer solution well up into a huge bolus under the skin on his arm. All the fluids settled there. Call in a back-up 2nd RN since they have a 2 Stick Rule and this one got it. Whew.

Next, the surgeon and the anesthesiologist came in. One detail was discussed that if the tumor was too big for my husband to be intubated (The Dr. breathes for you thru a tube inserted in your airway) so that he would have to have a tracheotomy)  A tracheostomy is a hole cut into your throat to be used for an airway, food, water and to talk. That also involves a week-long stay in the hospital and the trach would have to stay in place thru radiation and chemo treatments so that is over 2 months with a hole in your throat. All while getting the crap sizzled out of your neck with radioactive beams. Not Fun.
They take him to surgery at 7:30.



At 9:00 the RN comes to tell me that the surgeon still hasn't performed the surgery biopsy. The tumor is 
 6 inches across and pressing hard against the windpipe. 3 more weeks and it would have suffocated him. No air and you die.
You can live 
3 weeks with no food
3 Days with no water
3 minutes with no air.
These two wonderful Doctors worked for well over an hour but they got that tube down his  airway so NO TRACHEOSTOMY!!! Good News and I truly do think all of YOUR prayers helped with that one. Hey, I'll take one miracle at a time.
2 more hours... Both doctors come to find me in the surgery waiting room. 
The tumors are growing at lightening speed. Radiation and chemo are imperative now or as in two months ago! His neck has many other tumors, some small and some large. One is 6 times the size the surgeon has ever seen.
They tell me he will have a very rough road ahead. You only get ONE shot at radiation in your lifetime, at least in your neck. Too much and it can kill YOU and not the cancer.
We won't even think about if the Radiation doesn't work....
Two nurses come to get me. He is in recovery but family is not allowed back there. My husband is very agitated and asking for his wife so they let me back there into those secret halls where family never enters.

OMG. When I see my wonderful football/basketball player husband lying there so vulnerable, I just about melt. I want to crawl into the next bed over and cover my head and his too.
His throat is a bloody mess where they took a biopsy from one of the tumors. 
They "de-bulked" the largest one so he can breath. (I assume de-bulked means to cut part of it off.) Ouch.
 His mouth. His mouth is so full of blood and pieces of tissue. His skin is ice cold as I put my lips on his face. I can see his pain but former athletes never whine. I do! His pain scale was a 10.
 I told him he had to get the morphine offered and he finally does. I convince him that it's not being wimpy to take pain meds. 
Oh, the rest of the day was more scans and pokes, prods, meds and procedures. So many wonderful nurses and doctors to help us. My husband has never been sick! No surgeries or broken bones, no ailments or treatments since he had his tonsils removed at 6 years old.
What causes this type of aggressive ugly cancer?
Smoking. My husband never smoked a day in his life.
Drinking. My husband has a few beers with the boys once a week, if that.
More men get this type than women. 


I do know that I have never felt so helpless and incapable in all my life. We are like two children here and I am more lost than he is! I can evacuate a burning aircraft of 215 passengers in less than 90 seconds but I am a complete dolt when it comes to any of this. 
I cried for 20 minutes when I couldn't find the thermometer but finally did when I found it clutched in my own hand. I didn't know I had it. 

I need to learn to slow down and be calm. No longer one day at a time but one minute at a time. 
He's home now and resting. He describes his throat as a Lawn Mower that had a party in his mouth.
Thank You all for everything from your advice and instructions to  Prayers and support but mostly for being here for me.  Being here for us both. You are all amazing! 
I had my iPad in my bag with me in the Recovery room and the Tweet beeps and incoming email beeps were going off like fireworks. It gave us both so much comfort. You were right there with us!
My husband said that with each beep you let him know that he's still alive. 
Right now, I want to go eat a medical dictionary. 
WHY didn't I pay more attention to my First Aid courses? Why?

Blue-Capped Vial of Blood :(

I apologize for not posting yesterday. Yesterday was brutal. I took a day off. 
I wish Cancer would.
I can't stand that word. It makes me want to rage and pull my hair out and go kick someone right where it hurts. You see, we all go on living our lives in such a bubble of innocence. Sure, I have friends and heard stories of cancer and illness. Who hasn't? But when it comes to visit  YOUR house like some unwanted filthy houseguest to wreak havoc and steal your life, then you're changed forever.
Yesterday our office trip to Inner Vision for the PET Scan began at 7:45 am. 
Blood work, EKG, Chest xRay, another CT Scan ended at 3:00. 4:00 was the consult with the surgeon for the biopsy on Wed morning surgery. 
It's funny, the nurses give YOU the blood to take to the lab be analyzed. They also give YOU a CD that holds your life on a disk. All of your scans, reports and results are on this disk. I wanted to take it home put it in my MacBook and hit "Reject."  
Be gone you cancer bastard!


They gave me his 4 vials of blood to take to the lab. I had it sitting right next to me in the passenger seat of my car  like a VIP passenger. One 1st class ticket to the lab. 
I get it there safely and the tech tells me I didn't have the "Blue-Capped" vial of Blood. 


What the hell does that mean? 
I have this blood in a sealed bag with red and yellow stickers all over it. I stood there like some confused passenger that ended up in Shanghai when they were supposed to have landed on a beach in Monaco. 
I think my mouth was even gapped open in confusion as I stood there at the lab window.
The rude tech said "You didn't bring the Blue Capped Vial of Blood. Go get it! You have to go get it! I need more blood here, lady!"
I felt as tho I had failed everyone. I had one task to do and I couldn't even do that right. 
I stood there in the middle of the Medical Arts building in my wrinkled up linen suit and cried. 
I completely lost it.  
I don't mean tears running down my face, I mean full-blown sobbing and wailing.  It wasn't pretty. I can usually hold it together but I even failed at that.
I completely lost it. It took restraint to keep from throwing myself on the marble floors and curl up in a fetal position and cry...
I  did finally pull it together, went back to Inner Vision, got the nurse to enter the suite that my husband was getting his juice for the PET Scan, draw more blood and took it back to the lab. 
I truly wanted to pull a scene like from the movie "Carrie" and envision all that blood on that rude lab tech dripping down her head and say "Here! Here's your Blue Capped Vial of Radioactive Blood!"






These days I look at my husband and cry. 
I thought I was this strong strong woman. Boy, was I wrong. I have been thru some unspeakable things in my life. My childhood could be a really bad Made for TV Movie and I thought it made me like work-horse strong. I thought so many things about myself that I am finding to be horribly wrong. 
The thought of what lies ahead for him makes me shudder. 
If his prognosis is simply Stage 4 Squamous Carcinoma of the Throat, he is in for some really rough months ahead. If it is worse than that... I can't even imagine it.


Each and every note from all of you has gotten us thru and my husband and I appreciate them and your wonderful offers of Hope and Support more than you could ever know. 

I have been given hundreds of perfect stranger's home phone numbers to call and 


Offers....
I have had offers from people to come live with them during this.
I have had offers to come here to cook and clean for us.
Offers to do our laundry.
One sweet and wonderful friend has offered to let me call her at 4 a.m. or any time just to weep and she will listen in support.
I have had offers to drive us around to appointments.
I have had offers to take our two dogs until this nightmare is over.
I have had offers to call Doctors in Huston and pull strings for quick entry into the medical system there.
So many offers.
Most importantly, I have had thousands of offers to PRAY. 
Prayers from perfect strangers. What amazing people all of you are. I am so Blessed.
Truly Blessed.


Tomorrow is the biopsy surgery. If all goes well, we will have answers and options. 
If not, I don't know. The surgeon will put a probe with a camera down his throat. He will look inside his throat lungs, esophagus, stomach etc. They will hopefully get a tube past the cancer in his throat to breath for him during surgery. If the cancer has blocked that tiny hole then they will have to do a tracheotomy which is cut a hole in his throat to allow him to breath thru. I pray it all goes well.
Michael douglas went thru this and seems to be in remission. I am so Thankful for that.
His beautiful wife, Catherine Zeta Jones... She ended up in the looney bin. I can see why!
(I wonder if she ever dropped the ball on the Blue-Capped Vial of Blood?)

Scans and Needles and Probes... Oh My!

Remember what seems like months ago but was only days ago I was BEGGING for answers? 
Ha! Now I don't want any more answers. I want to rewind to two weeks ago when we were just a normal happy American couple living the normal happy American Dream.
Working, laughing, enjoying life as everyone else does. 
R-E-W-I-N-D

If only it could be that easy.
I look at my husband and I have to rush to a room where I can close the door or hide behind a bed or wall to cry. I must stay strong. If he sees me break I swear he may crumble and we have the fight of our lives ahead of us.
We drove for miles to get a biopsy consult. This was supposed to be No Big Deal. The Ear Nose and Throat specialist was to tell us what kind of biopsy and how the procedure would go. Instead, he read the previous CT Scans and decided to do a light probe right there in the office. He stuck a very long piece of cotton gauze soaked in a numbing agent up his nose, left it there 10 minutes, came back and then shoved a light down his throat and looked around. 
As of now the official name is Squamous Cell Carcinoma of the Tonsils and Throat. 
The EXACT same cancer that Michael Douglas had. 

But....
He has ordered more tests. A PET Scan, EKG ( to see if he's strong enough for what's ahead) and more Blood work on Monday. 
A PET Scan is a full body scan to check to see if this monster has spread to other organs. 
Dear God, please let it not have spread.
The lymph glands are 3 times the size of what they should be and his windpipe is being strangled by these cancerous tumors. There are 6 lymph glands in your neck. 5 of his are huge and growing.
 Time is not our friend anymore.
We used to make lists of things we had to do:

*Fly to Miami
*Gas up the cars
*Pack for a trip
*Buy new shoes and a dress for a gala event
*Go to a Wedding today


Yesterday, we made an entire new kind of list that made me want to hide in a closet and never come out:








*Buy a cemetery plot
*Pre-pay for our funerals
*Get our banking affairs in order
*Tell his 95 year old mom that her only son has Stage 4 cancer
*Meet with all the kids and break the news
*Tell as many of our friends that we can
*Call our dear friend and cancel our plans to attend his daughter's wedding. (I bought the most fabulous Zac Posen dress to wear but now Who really cares?)
*Find a doctor in Huston TX at MD Anderson that specializes in this type of cancer
*Decide if before treatment begins to get a feeding tube placed because his throat will be burnt to shreds by the radiation. Drinking water will be like entering the gates of hell for 6 to 8 weeks of radiation and chemo.


I apologize for being so depressing. You all know me. I am always one to make droll boring things into funny fabulous things. I can't seem to find one thing fun or fabulous anymore. At least not right now....

The "C" Word

Typing this out and even putting that word out into the stratosphere brings me to my knees. We have a name for it but what kind of cancer?
Where?
What can we do about it? 
What are our options?
I know that our next step and our next one after that in this horrible journey is going to be important but WHAT do we do? Let's get started!
I am a sleeper. I can sleep thru tornados, noise, turbulence, anything. I once fell asleep at a Harlem Globetrotter's Game in Atlanta. Packed house. Embarrassed but hey, it was a great nap.


Lately, I wake up 6 -7 times a night and think "Ok, this is all a really bad dream."
Who's nightmare did we stumble into anyway? This doesn't happen to us. 
We're young and fabulous. Smart and funny. We pay taxes!
My husband and I have always had a great relationship but now, we are like two tiny seahorses clinging to each other in a very big and extremely rough sea. 

The CT Scans showed some ugly tumors, more than 5 on his neck. One is so large it is beginning to block the windpipe. That's why all the bloody noses and coughing up blood. (Those have all but  stopped now and that fact makes me nervous)
Today, we have to go 3 counties over to get the best but also the quickest consult on a biopsy. Time is a factor now.  They keep saying that but yet nothing through this has moved quickly. 
I have so many questions but no one has any answers. I suppose this biopsy will tell at least part of the story and I fear it. 
There are two words I do NOT want to hear. 
Esophageal Cancer. 
It's a sad day when you almost welcome the thought of "Throat Cancer" as it has a few options. Hey, we will take anything that has a chance to fight against.
Michael Douglas fought it and won and so can we.

I want to Thank each and every one of you for all of the wonderful heartfelt prayers and notes. Each one makes me cry and each one is a Blessing. You are all appreciated more than you know. Just the thought that you are sending messages to God above gives me hope.
PS. Take extra time for those you love. We take each other for granted. Tomorrow is promised to no one.

Waiting...

Now that we have done what we were ordered to do by the powers that be, our doctor, we sit and we wait. Why am I adding myself to this equation? Because I can. When a loved one gets sick, it effects everyone not just the ill one so I suppose I'm allowed to say I am a part of it all even tho I don't want to be. I am on the outside looking in. blah blah blah.
The doctor ordered CT Scans and blood work and clinical exams but we have been at this almost a week now and do we know what is going on any more than we did on Day 1 ? NO!


As women, we are programmed to fix things. Fight the things that hurt those we love. 
What am I fighting here? 
I haven't got a clue! That is the worst, most helpless feeling ever! I have my sleeves rolled up, my fierce fighting  face on and here I sit....
I cancelled my entire life not knowing what to do next. 
I had a court case today at 2:00 but was in the doctor's office. Again. I was to fly to Tampa yesterday but was too worried to leave. My husband says he wants to buy me a new car. Am I excited by that? No.  We have a wedding to go to on Saturday. Do we go? Do we kick up our heels and dance and try to ignore this big black elephant that is sitting on top of us?
I see this dark black hole in our lives and it is called our FUTURE? Am I being dramatic? Probably.
Everything. I mean every little thing is riding on the outcome of these tests. 
Family, friends, the people that are a part of our lives want answers. How is he? What do the doctors say?
He's ..... I'll be damned if I know.

The lumps on his neck are growing. What was once 3 lumps is now 5 lumps. What was once the size of a lime is now the size of a larger lime. The bloody noses have all but stopped. He still coughs up small amounts of blood but it's not as scary as it used to be. His voice is getting worse and his difficulty swallowing is an issue that is getting more to be concerned about daily and what are we doing about it?
NOTHING!!!!!
I want to cuss and poke someone right in the nose!
Ok, deep breath.
The weekend is coming and what will we do about it? Again, nothing. Get up each day and do what we have been doing.
Here is my husbands quote of the week.  
"Life's journey is not to arrive at your grave safely in a well preserved body but to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting 
"Holy Shit!... What a Ride!"
I like his style and told him, "Let's fly to Pompeii. Let's spend the next 3 days in Australia. 
Let's go do something really crazy." 
Where is he right now? Back at work.  At his desk putting out fires and solving problems. 


I want to make a video. Yeah, one about how I do my hair. 
It seems so lame so I won't.

  

A Journey of Fear

Today I'm writing this blog more as a way to write a note to myself. I want to cry and scream and do SOMETHING! But what?
My best friend, my husband seems to be in trouble. I know I say things about him at times in my videos to be funny but this isn't funny. 
He has been my "straight man" for years now. You know, the one that laughs at my corny jokes and keeps it all in perspective but I see him laughing and trying to hide it. 
Poor man. He's had to live with me for so long. He tells me daily that no one laughs harder at my silliness than me and he's right. I met and fell in love with him because he makes me laugh. Daily. He is my light. He keeps me from spinning out of control.


Lately, he has had these spells where he coughs up blood but never says a word about it to anyone. (I see traces in the bathroom) Now bloody noses every day. His appetite isn't what it used to be, his voice is raspy, difficulty swallowing and most upsetting of all both sides of his neck have these massive lumps. The one on the left is the size of a lime! 
Finally, FINALLY,  this last Thursday he agreed to go see our family doctor. My husband never goes to the doctor and never ever complains. Ever! I stub my toe and will complain for a week. 
Our doctor was even scared. I could tell from his reactions to the symptoms.
He has a CT Scan scheduled for Tuesday. To say I am not worried is an exaggeration to say the least.
I looked on-line for signs and symptoms relating to what he is going thru and that scared me even more! I had to slam my laptop closed and cry. Michael Douglas.
His mom is 95 and in a nursing home. He is a workaholic and...
 Oh, there are so many things I could write to the good of this wonderful man but it makes me cry. I refuse to cry when he's around. 
I'm scared.
I can't even imagine his fears. The worst part is not knowing. This isn't happening to ME but I've never felt such fear.
Tuesday seems light years from now. I want to blink my eyes and have this all be a dream. Forever the optimist I pray for a good outcome.  
Dear God....