Everyone always tells us how good John looks. Aside from his cancer, he’s looks healthy as can be. Part of that’s because he tends to smile through any discomfort and puts on a brave face whenever he can. Plus, let’s face it, he’s damn hot.
But things aren’t going so well. He never really bounced back from the colonoscomy he had 3 weeks ago and over the last 24 hours he’s become increasingly weak and sick. Saturday night he began to run a low grade fever and last night it spiked to 103.5. He has no energy, is not eating much, and says that everything tastes horrible. We saw his local oncologist today and he’ll have an ultrasound tomorrow on his kidney to make sure the tumor close to there isn’t creating problems.
The National Cancer Center is now asking for more labs, which take time to get. The longer we wait to get into the study there it seems the more sick he becomes. For me, it’s agony watching him go so rapidly downhill and not being able to do anything about it. I go from complete devastation to intense fear to total fury and frustration at the lack of options open to us.
In my worst moments, I just want off this ride. I don’t want to do this anymore.
I want to go back to the way our life was one year, ten months, 14 days ago, before we knew anything about melanoma or clinical trials or side effects. I want my husband and our life back the way they were. I want to make plans and keep them. I want to jump out of bed excited about the day instead of dreading what comes next.
Then I remember what a strong man I’m married to, how he accepts every single shift, good or bad, with grace and humor. I remember how much he loves me and how much I love him and how lucky we are to have each other, no matter what.
And sometimes that helps.