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« Look What Came In The Mail Today: The Internet Says, Fuck Cancer! | Main | Snapshots Of Cancer »
Tuesday
Mar092010

Denial Or Optimism: Blurring The Line For Survival

Waiting

Image by califmom via Flickr

“We really want to help you.”

“This is an aggressive disease.”

“There’s a very real chance this won’t work.”

“I’m nervous about doing the transplant.”

“You understand the risks are increased because of your situation.”

I see it now for what it is. The hesitation in the doctor’s words, movements, the catch in his voice. He’s scared.

At first I thought I was projecting my own fears, but not after yesterday. Not after the doctor said, “I’m nervous.”

Bob answered back, “But if you don’t put me in the game, I won’t have a chance to bat.”

And I sat in the stands, wondering why we have to play this game. Why didn’t we sign up for shuffleboard?

Radiation ends in three more days. Thursday.

Bob will have a CT on Friday. We’ll meet with Dr. Waffle Cone again on Monday to go over the results of the CT, discuss the state of Bob’s lung, the risk of pneumonia, and, I’m sure, again, the very real risks of the transplant.

What we don’t always discuss, but have, is the alternative.

Doing nothing.

That’s the other option. That’s it, really. Palliative care. Keeping him comfortable until he dies.

Dies.

Until my husband dies.

Doing nothing until my husband dies.

I’m standing at a craps table in Vegas and I’m gambling with my husband’s life.

I grew up in Nevada. I don’t gamble. I’ve never played craps. I don’t want to start now. And I don’t want to start with my husband’s life, but I don’t get a choice.

Instead, I get this.

I get to pretend in front of my kids that their father is going to have a transplant that we hope will make him better, knowing full-well that in a matter of weeks, they may have no father at all.

I get to go about my days with a husband who can barely hold my hand at times because the pain is too excruciating to extend his arm, but at least he’s here, and he can laugh, and he’s my partner, and their father, and my world.

I get to spend my nights, lying awake, listening to him breathe, cough, moan in pain, but he’s here, and I can talk to him, ask him what he needs, try to make him comfortable.

I’m supposed to be supportive, his cheerleader, looking at the positive, being convinced he’ll pull through this, but I’m so fucking scared I can hardly breathe. I don’t know how to be Pollyana.

I just know how to be afraid.

Reader Comments (53)

I wish I had words to respond to your words. But I don't. Only to say I read them and they will stay with me as I continue to think about you and Bob fighting this horrible and lonely battle, and continue to hope.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterDarryle Pollack
thinking of you, praying for you in whatever ways I can, sending all my love and hope. if/as there are things for peope, far away, to do, please shout

holding you in my heart
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJanet Isserlis
Oh goodness, Leah, you can't make sense of those feelings. It's okay to be afraid. Cross the bridge as you come to it and enjoy your time together along the journey. I am sending all of my love and good thoughts to you and Bob.



March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commentermamikaze
my thoughts and prayers are with you.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterSandy
I've been sitting here trying to come up with something profound to say to bring you comfort, but all I can come up with is .... fuck. Feel any better? :-)

I am scared for you too, Leah ... but I am also praying hard for you and your hubby, and I know lots & lots of others are too. Hopefully the love and prayers from your friends and family will surround you with comfort and peace and strength.



March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterCathy
I know that there's nothing I can say that will really help, but if everyone's love and wishes and prayers can make something happen, you know you've got ours in spades. I'm thinking of you all the time and hoping beyond hope that some kind of good news is on its way.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKaren
Leah, You are going through the experience we all just dream about in our night mares. I am so very sorry for your pain, Bob's pain and the children's reality check. Please know that if we can ever do ANYTHING all you have to do is call 294-9997.We will drop Auniie's Cafe Art creation off soon.......any day or time that works best?
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJulianne
Your words are so powerful and so scary at the same time. Thank you for sharing. Your words really put life into perspective. I can't imagine what you're going through, and truthfully, I hope I never have to experience it. You are truly amazing and brave! I'm pulling for both of you. Don't give up!!!
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJulie
I just plain love you. That's all.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterCary
Holding you in my heart.Sending all my love your way.Serena
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterZip n Tizzy
Leah,

Oh my God! That's all I can say and I love you! I think of you and Bob all the time........

Love,

Lynn
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLynn
Honey, I am praying hard for both of you. *hugs* Hang in there.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterThe Mother Tongue
I soo get what you are going through, unfortuneatly that was me 3 months ago. I know that feeling that nervvuosness in the pit of your stomach wondering , screaming thiscan not be real!! and then the panic that seeps over your entire body.I am here for you if you need me. I do not have any magic answers that will make it all better. I understand how it feels and have a good listening ear and shoulder to cry on if you want it. We can cry together. Just Love my brother every day you have him. spend all the time with him you can and hold him as much as you can. I wish I could have held my husband more, with all the machine hook ups i could not reach him very well. I just held his hand and gazed into his eyes. I am praying my heart out to God and my knees have calouses on them . Love to you guys and God Bless
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterfarmerloraine
Hugs to you, Bob, and your kids. Thinking of you very often.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterAmanda S-K
I know the last thing you want to hear is that we're all thinking of you. Because thoughts do nobody any good when it comes to saving the lives of the people we love. But I do think about you. I think about you guys every day, and I know that things happen that Doctors don't know. And things happen everyday. You are a very strong woman, and you both deserve nothing but the best. We're all giving it the finger. And will continue to do so well into the future. Love you guys.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterruth akers
I love you Leah! I am not sure how to even begin to offer support of any kind; you and Bob are so brave. I know it looks so grave; I will seriously pray for a miracle and I am a damn agnostic.
I wish so hard that Bob could truly fuck cancer. Sending healing vibes and hugs. It's all I have. Love to you and Bob and the kids.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterblondediva11
Courage, Leah. It is what you both possess. And courage is maintaining your composure when consumed with fear. It is okay to be afraid. Been there done that and freely admit to it. Thinking of you both.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJeff
Love you so much.

God I want to be able to make everything all better for you. All I can do is love you.

Don't forget to shower.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLaDawn
I am holding your hand and standing right behind you. Which is an awkward position.

None of this is fair and I'm so angry about it. But. He is still here. And he is still fighting. Keep giving it all you've got. You are surprising yourself every day - I know it - because even when you're tired and sad, you've still got more in you. You do. You're so incredibly strong. You have no choice, but you are meeting it head-on with amazing grace.

I love your nuts off.

Hugs.
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commentermarleymeowmeow
Seems to me you are not in a Pollyanna position. It's more like Pandora: a whole lot of shit slipped out of the box, but hope is still there. HOPE IS STILL THERE. Just be who you are one minute at a time. As much as it may feel like it, you are not alone, but surrounded by love and all the possibilities it bears.Debra
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterDebra
I wish I had the right words, but I have none. I don't know what I would do faced with a similar situation. I am certain I would not be as brave as you. I do believe I would be every bit as afraid as you. I have silently watched your battle and my heart goes out to both of you. I hope there is a happy ending here. Cancer is a fucking ... robber of life and hopes and dreams. It takes them away from people every day who deserve so much better.

I love what Bob said about wanting his chance at bat. Here's hoping he gets it. I know the doctors will do everything they can to give him that chance.

I am sending you, Bob and your children all of my love and support. I wish these words could heal you, could make everything okay again. There are many people who are pulling for you, who think of you every day, we invisible people on the internet. We DO care and hope for the very best for you and Bob.

{{{{{(((((with much love and hugs and hope!)))))}}}}}
March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterbadkitty_
My first instinct, me who communicates through words, is to say nothing. I have no words for this. But by saying nothing, you don't know that I am supporting you, standing by you, even though there are miles between us. I think of you guys constantly. With the best of intentions to call, text, email. Then I figure, "Oh, she's too busy," and I send up an arrow prayer for you both.

Doctors can be nervous, and people still heal. Hope is not lost. They are men, fallible men who often have the best intentions, but they can be wrong.

You are strong. He is strong. I still have hope.
March 10, 2010 | Unregistered Commentersendchocolate
You don't know me but....

I've sent up prayers and am sending you all the love & healing energy I can give. You're right. No one wants to play that game. No one should ever have to. People beat the odds sometimes. I'm praying for all of your sakes that this is one of those times.

I think it'd be great for him to get to go around for the rest of his long life saying "I kicked cancer's ass!"

Hugs and love,Sunshine
March 10, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterSunshine
I found your post by accident, and I can honestly say you have touched my life and changed it forever. You, your husband and children are brave, strong, and have taught me to appreciate all that I have, to never take anything for granted, and to put my little inconveniences in life into perspective. I am not the praying type, but I think of you and hope more than you can imagine that this all has a happy ending. Your family's journey has touched lives in ways you may never know and I thank you for your words, honesty and real portrayal of courage and commitment to family.
March 10, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJoan

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