The Return

These are journal entries from the beginning of our odessy. I will spend the next few entries catching up to where we are now.

January 12

They came into the room tonight, two of them. Familiar faces, dressed in their white coats.

They mouthed words. Words that sounded like:

Cancer

Complications

Worse than before

Chemo on Friday

I heard them and felt detached. Those poor men, the two doctors, delivering such difficult news to this wonderful couple. Problem is Art and I are that couple.

Later, I leave the room, head to the car, pay the parking attendant and then everything else comes between sobs and screams.

This is what we try to protect our children from. The pain.

No, no those are not the right words.

Gut wrenching. No, no.

It feels like someone is pulling my insides down and out and in and sideways. No rhythm to the motion. No sense.

The wave of fear and loss come over and under me, I lose my footing. I pull over. I want to scream at the drivers as they pass me “STOP. You must STOP! I’m falling. Everything must stop!” For that moment, everything I know is a false. And I want the world to stop so I can get a finger hold, a fingerprint hold, find a place where I can begin to find my balance.

This is our journey. Mine. Art’s.

The cancer is back.

The fucking cancer is back.

Oh my God

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