Last night at dinner, I read aloud the blog posts from a year ago. I was immediately taken back. When E. asked me to describe in one word how that time period was, I replied, "scary."
Even thinking about it now, I can get that feeling in my stomach. I can remember that first moment when I truly realized that something wasn't right on that Friday night. How suddenly my hindsight became clearer and things we had been excusing away for the previous couple of weeks weren't right either. That eerie and quiet trip to the emergency room and then the long wait for tests, scans, doctors and specialists. Finally, the news that we dreaded but that we both secretly suspected ... brain tumors. The cancer was back and it was in his brain.
I remember the following days of trying to figure out what exactly this meant and where we went from here. Friends and family rallied around us and picked up the many pieces so I could be at the hospital. I don't know what we would have done without them. Decisions had to be made and a plan had to be decided on. I felt like the whole time I was holding my breath. Once we had a plan for surgery I felt like I could exhale a little bit, but then came surgery. Brain surgery. It all sounded so ominous. On the outside, E. and I both held it together well. We knew we had to be strong. There were people counting on us. We were counting on each other. There were private moments though, moments between the two of us, when those walls came crumbling down. We were scared.
Yet, here we are a year later. E.'s got scars on his head as reminders of what he's been through. He's battled with some episodes of brain swelling (we're assuming) and he still occasionally gets some intense headaches. He continues to take the anti-seizure medication as supposedly the seizures are still present, although we've been fortunate to never witness anything we've imagined as as stereotypical seizure. His short-term memory can still be a bit fuzzy (particularly if he's overly tired or not feeling well), but considering the long list of potential side effects from not only the brain surgery but also the cyber-knife radiation treatments, I'd say he's fared extremely well.
He takes pleasure in his girls and spending time with them. He enjoys watching the boys' sporting events. He delights in Peanut's daily antics. He's hitting the gym with some regularity ... a little cardio, some weights and his beloved sauna. He cooks up a storm and keeps us all fat and happy. He watches his ESPN, his CNN and his history channel (that is when Peanut doesn't steal the remote before him and then he's stuck watching PBS or the dreaded Sponge Bob). He's looking forward to football season, both for the Minnesota Vikings and the UNR Wolfpack. And, he also wants to get back to work. Specifically, he wants to start working on his clinical hours for his LCSW (For those of you familiar with LCSW requirements, you know how this works. For those of you not familiar, let me just say, the clinical hour requirement is astronomical.). He worked so hard on his MSW and he's got so much experience and talent, it would be a shame not to use all of it. He'd love to work with Veterans, but is open to other areas as well. Anyways, if you hear of somewhere who could use someone like him, give him a ring.
I'm so very grateful to be where we are today. I love that man, scars and all.
