Wednesday, March 17, 2010

My hero



Mike started back to chemo today. The cancer center has moved to a fancy new building with more space and high-tech stuff like a blanket warmer. So that's nice, I guess. For a cancer center.

But of course, it just sucks in general being in a place like that. And something always goes wrong. Today, it was his blood pressure. It's pretty high, most likely because his blood counts are low and he needs a transfusion. And we learned that as of Jan. 1, our insurance no longer covers transfusions at the cancer center. Instead, Mike has to be at a different facility in Palm Bay at 7:30 tomorrow morning, a good 40-minute drive from our home (and no, my liberal friends, this does not mean I would not trade our private health insurance for government-run nonsense that couldn't/wouldn't afford a single one of his treatments... but that's another story).


The whole cancer thing sucks, really. Mike hates every bit of it. He hates having to get up early for chemo and get ready, have me scramble around to get Julia ready, take her to my mom's, sit in the waiting room forever, waste a whole afternoon sitting in a chair. He hates the smell of the place. He hates having a port in his chest. He hates feeling like crud. Hates it all.


But I was looking at him today, and I snapped this picture, because it reminded me that as much as it sucks and as much as he hates it, he does it. He fights on. He sits in the chair because he wants to be around to take his baby girl to preschool. He sits in the chair because he wants to take her to the Jersey Shore someday to eat at Mack & Manco's pizza. He sits in the chair because he wants to get back to that little place on St. John where we snorkled on our honeymoon. He sits in the chair because he wants to be well enough to float in the pool and drink Yuengling. He sits in the chair because there are more stories he wants to write, because he wants to eat more of my creme brulee French toast, because he wants to see his niece and nephew graduate from high school. He sits in the chair because there's a whole lot worth fighting for.

1 comment:

Carol Pack Urban said...

I agree with every single thing you said in this post. I know every bit of it went through my mind as I sat in that chair. I hated the ports, I hated the chemo, I hated the nausea, I hated all the time wasted sitting. An endless amount of sitting. I hated inconveniencing my mother who came to live with us for six months during the first round of chemo and my mother in law who stayed with us for four months during the second round a year later. I dreaded the walk into the cancer center and the smell. I wanted to vomit just walking in the door. I put up a brave front and a smile on my face to try to encourage the other patients who walked in the door facing the same enemy. I fought the fight, too. I am grateful for any time I have left.