Goodbye 2013 . . . . {11/365}

Goodbye 2013.

A year filled with changes.

Some good; some bad.

All important.

January seen me changing career paths.

A contract pulled early.

The beginning of something big - I had yet to realize.

February seen me taking a step back - literally.

Back to an old job; slightly old habits.

A realization that I had made the right decision.

March.

March allowed us a break.

To allow the wheels begin their motion.

April.

Oh April.

It brought a wedding; for two people we've all been waiting to finally tie the knot!

It also brought the start of a very quick, terminal illness to my extended family.

May.

May brought the end.

The end of a life stolen way too soon.

It was hell; a pure living hell - watching a man disappear in front of your very eyes.

It also brought with it a clearer vision of what I wanted or rather didn't want for my life.

June.

Brought with it another career change.

I ended my time with a company I had once enjoyed.

To instead pursue a dream.

A dream of taking photographs.

Of preserving the moments in life that can be so easily forgotten.

A dream of working for myself.

It closed out with me receiving news of another kind - the lump in my neck had grown and was now joined by two small spots.

Surgery was now a reality; no longer just a possibility.

July.

The middle of a Summer I decided to spend with the man of my dreams.

To dedicate simply to us.

To do nothing, but awake each morning and spend the day together.

Doing everything or nothing.

Didn't matter.

We were together.

We weren't living for the almighty dollar; we were enjoying each other and learning what truly mattered in life.

Each other.

August.

The summer of us continues.

 Surgery to be booked.

September.

Surgery #1.

Tests, doctors appointments and checkups start to fill my days.

I go under the knife - all is well.

I come home and start to put things behind me.

October.

Some karmic god had other plans.

News of the Cancer comes.

I start to question most things in my life.

Most things; not him.

No.

He is my rock.

My anchor.

November.

November brings with it more appointments.

More tests.

A date for surgery #2.

Then a delay - a nasty chest infection.

December.

December brought surgery #2.

Fear . . . {10/365}

We all live our lives with fear.

Be it spiders; mice; heights; small spaces - just to name a few.

I never knew true; absolute fear until very recently.

When sitting in a doctors office receiving news that a test result showed several nodules on my lungs.

It didn't sink in right away.

I tried to focus on the positive things.

But two days ago; I felt pressure on my chest.

It was hard to catch a deep breath.

The fear hit me like a ton of bricks.

I kept busy.

It's almost Christmas; I took on as much as possible.

Doing so many things for others.

In part, for my own selfish reasons.

To hide the truest of facts:

I'm terrified.

Absolutely terrified.

Not of being sick.

But of being robbed of a life I have just barely started to live.

About not waking up and looking in his eyes again.

Never walking down the aisle on my way to becoming his wife.

Never holding a precious new life in my arms as they scream their first breath.

Never again simply being curled up on the couch with him on a cold winters day.

Never again sharing a laugh at the simplest of this things until our sides hurt.

8 years.

Over the course of those 8 years we have become each others world.

Inseperable.

Where one doesn't begin and end; just exist together.

It works for us.

It hasn't always been easy.

We've struggled with things; we are human.

But through it all we just grew stronger.

We've stood by each other, when at times it seemed like the world was against us.

When one of us would make a decision, the other was 110% on board.

We didn't necessarily agree on everything, but we supported each other through it regardless.

We are each others strongest ally; cheerleader; supporter; muse; sounding board; best friend and rock.

When everyone and the world had become too busy; we've had each other.

Together we can get through anything.

 So when the words of my doctor finally sank in, my first thoughts were of him.

Not me.

Him.

He restores my determination simply by existing.

I looked at him last night and began to think.

I have to remain positive.

I have to beat this.

Whatever it turns out to be.

Because I can't lose a future that consists of this man.

A future that will, without a doubt, be amazing.

So I keep my tears for when he's not home.

As I type these words; they flow.

Some times my whole body will vibrate with sobs; I take a break; compose and type.

Because here is my outlet.

Here I can let it all out and not have to worry about burdening anyone.

Here I can cry a river and feel like I'm not drowning.

For us; I'll beat this unknown.

I'll win the fight against whatever has decided to invade my body.

For us.

"All my life; All my love; All for you."

"You are the reason I became stronger, but still you are my weakness."

-T-

I'm Gonna Love You Through It . . . . . . . {9/365}

Because it hits home . . .

When life as you know it ends . . . {8/365}

4:22PM.

October 22, 2013.

The phone rang.

ENT Consultants it read.

The call we had been waiting for.

The call I'll never forget; if I live to be 100.

"I apologize for not calling yesterday, I still hadn't received the reports . . .

. . . there was cancer . . ."

I listened to the rest of what he said.

I couldn't call it a conversation; that would have required verbal participation on my part.

I had no words.

Across from me sat a man trying to read my face; gage my reaction.

Apparently I gave it all away.

I ended the call after receiving yet another apology for the having to deliver bad news.

I simply sat.

28 years old.

I had cancer.

No.  This simply didn't make sense.

I was healthy.

All levels were perfect.

I was numb.

There was no way to wrap my mind around this.

We sat in each others arms and let the tears fall.

There were no words spoken.

There were no words period.

I now had to tell my mother that her only child, of just 28, had cancer.

Just 24 hours after she had been at the hospital with chest pains, where she was told to avoid stress.

How does one cushion that blow?

 I couldn't.

So I picked up that phone.
The words just flowed.
As did her response: "No . . . oh my god no . . "

My response to those who wanted to come over was that I wanted a few hours to process the news.
A few hours I thought would be enough.
The hours and days that followed weren't enough.
Not nearly.
 I started to think an entire lifetime wouldn't be enough.

This word.
This disease.
It had attacked our family so many times.
But the sensation when it's you.
There are no words to describe it.

Life as we knew it had ended.

"You never how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have"

-T-