We really thought we'd be done by now. Regardless of what the doctors said to us, somewhere in the back of our minds, we thought we'd be on the early half of this ride.
When we heard that surgery would be 3-10 weeks after radiation, we really didn't think we'd have to hold out for 8. But here we are.
The kids will be out of school for one day. Forget establishing a schedule, we'll barely have time to lock the doors and throw them $20 for Dominos. But we have wonderful neighbors and very kind friends who reassure us that they can look out for the kids for at least a week before they farm them out to a family of wolves.
But even with that support, everything feels wrong. People have asked how we are staying so positive amidst this. The short answer is that we have no reason not to be, and there is no point wallowing in what could be. But the long answer is that it would be a disservice to everyone who's battled this, and a gross untruth to pretend that this ride has been smooth.
We are sad. More frequently now. Sometimes we just lock eyes, no words, just tears. We have the same fears the same love and sometimes they transcend our limited vocabulary.
There is pain. Most days he gets through, but he is hurting - always.
I watch him sleep and just pray. Pray that everything goes well, pray that he feels how much he is loved, pray that our kids know how much he loves them even when he can't be with them. Mostly I pray that he can be happy - that's what I pray for most of all.
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