My Husband and Every Day is a Gift

So, you get the news that you have cancer. You think you basically know what all that entails, and what you are about to go through - but you quickly find out that you know very little. You see a bit of what other people have gone through, and you see it on TV and in the movies. Come to find out, shockingly, TV and movies are not the place to get solid information. My first thoughts were for my children. I couldn't believe they had to go through this. It was one thing for me to have to endure it, but they shouldn't have to. It made me angry that this would mess with my family. I felt guilty, like I had let everyone down. How dare I allow a cancer cell into my body! What was I thinking?

I was in shock - I was ready to do whatever I was told to do. I was ready to allow that first general surgeon, who gave me the news so delicately, to turn me into the "Uniboober" without really knowing anything! Thank God for my husband Rich. He literally swooped in, like a knight in shining armor, and rescued me from that surgeon's office. He also rescued me from my guilty thoughts. I don't know if he knows how much he saved me that day and over the next several days as it all sank in. He worked the phones and the internet like a demon for probably 12 hours straight the day after the news. I could only see right in front of me - he needed all the answers and he needed them NOW. He managed to get me in to see one of the best oncological surgeons available, the very next day. She was amazing - a night and day difference from that first surgeon. Dr. Kristy Funk. (We love the Funk. You gotta love the Funk.) Dr. Funk confirmed our fears, however, she got us in to see one of the best oncologists in the nation, Dr. Philomena McAndrews. She has over a three month waiting list to get in to see her - but Richard, my knight in shining armor, cut through acres of red tape and had me in there within the first week. The love of my life is also the best advocate I could possibly have in my corner. I'm here to tell you, if there is a job that absolutely must get done, my husband is the man to call. I swear there is nothing he can't do. I know I couldn't do this without him.

We just put one foot in front of the other and got through the rest of that day. We allowed the news to seep in slowly and went through the motions with our kids. They needed dinner - I don't remember what I gave them, but Rich and I couldn't eat. Other than my husband, the first couple of friends to know the news were the ones watching my kids while I went for my "needle biopsy". My one sweet friend just kept reassuring me that "You're going to be fine, you're going to be fine . . .". She had my boys and offered to keep them and feed them dinner - maybe that's how they ate! I really can't remember. My other dear friend, who was watching my daughter and knew of her ballet performance that evening, leaped into action and made sure that she had the most spectacular, sparkly braids to play Little Red Riding Hood anyone could ever imagine. Her mother had gone through breast cancer a few years back, and she told me these words that I'll never forget. "I don't know if anyone has told you this yet, but, nobody dies from this anymore." "It's going to be a rough patch, and we'll all be there for you, and then it will be done."

These kind acts were just the first of what became a countless number of kind acts. A veritable flood of gifts of every sort came pouring in. Gifts of prayer and positive thoughts, gifts of food and friendship and offers of help, gifts of time and energy and information, gifts I cherish every day. I know we all know this logically - but a life threatening illness makes you truly know that . . . every day is a gift.