This whole cancer-thing makes you really stop and think...about the disease, about the person with the cancer, about life, about the choices you make, about the life you have with the person walking with cancer. It makes you think about other people making the same or similar journeys and how they are enduring the same. As we get further entrenched into the "system" we have seen all walks of life touched by cancer. Many frail, delicate souls going through the same motions that Roger is getting ready to go through. Some are in the doctors' offices alone, some have one or more family/friends with them. As I watch, I wonder and hope that they have at least half the network that Roger has. I can't imagine anyone going through this alone.



The other thing I often think about are all the different health care providers in and around the treatment of cancer. I can't imagine sitting across from someone the first time they learn they or their loved one has cancer...watching that person or those persons either slowly crumble under the emotional weight or fight crumbling publicly so that they can hold on to their senses or avoiding the entire emotional impact while trying to remain intellectual and clinical. I know for me, when I sat across from the doctor and nurse when they told me that the cancer had spread into the lymph nodes I fought the emotional impact while trying to remain clinical/intellectual....there was too much important information to be absorbed first before emotions could come into play. And still, a silent tear or two escaped while fear mounted. I took copious notes, random words I heard, to try to keep in the intellectual and out of the emotional. When the doctor and nurse left me to gather my thoughts, absorb what I heard, and generally try to start breathing again, I had the random thought "I would hate to be one of them telling me this news...what a sucky job to have to deliver this news to someone".



This weekend, we decided to come down to the boat here in Louisville for the holiday weekend. The boat brings us both peace. Last night was the first in weeks when Roger slept a long, solid, full night of sleep. He was peacefully snoring away next to me and woke very little. The weekend will be filled with a lot of "nothing" and a whole bunch of spontaneous naps...in fact, as I type he's snoring away again downstairs in bed. (he snores a lot in case you didn't know :-))



Cancer (or any illness) gives you a lot of perspective about what truly matters in life... the people you love whether family or friends. The outpouring of support we have received has been heart-warming and gives us strength. thank you.


As a word of warning to all of you following the blog, as the days and weeks progress, Roger wants me to take more photos (as you can tell, I like to take pictures!) of the journey so that he can go back and review. This includes after surgery. I think he may be setting me up with to look like some heinous spouse taking photos of their sick loved one for an insurance policy. Soooo, to clear my somewhat tarnished reputation I am publicly announcing to all that this is ROGER'S request...NOT me doing it on my own. Also, I'm giving you fair warning that my darling husband may go through some physical transformation in the process that may be a little unsettling if you didn't know. So, you've been warned.


Tuesday morning radiation at 9am. Chemo starts at 10am and will go for six hours. Will try write more Tuesday night if not sooner. Enjoy your holiday weekend. If you don't have perspective, find it. If you haven't gone to the doctor recently, go. All our love. R & A