F*** Cancer

The cancer demon has visited our home on more than one occasion, each time bringing a different and new type of cancer.  I have been the lucky recipient each time, the last being a breast cancer diagnosis for which I remain in treatment.  With each cancer diagnosis comes a multitude of challenges, complications, victories and setbacks.  It seems the treatment required to stay alive, in many cases ravages the body in ways that are unexpected, causing other medical issues.  To say the least, battling cancer is a full-time job.

My wife and I are in a comfortable rhythm of me fighting the physical battle and her being the constant, attentive caregiver.  She has ordered the chaos of a barrage of doctor appointments, medications, side effects, opportunistic infections, vaccinations, and a CaringBridge page.  She has stripped drains, changed bandages and completed wound care to perfection.  All the while reminding me, that to her, I am still beautiful, still loved, still her imperfectly perfect choice.  Needless to say my wife is my hero, my love, my best friend, and my reason for getting up many, many mornings.  Simply by knowing her, I long to be a better person.  She challenges me, she teaches me, she encourages me, she has helped me feel comfortable in my skin and has provided a stability in my life I had not known before.   Through her I have come to know the power of unconditional love.

My wife has always been the picture of health.  A few things here and there, but nothing of major concern.  But the past 10 months she had been having gastric issues and finally after months of trying to get a medical professional to take her seriously, she was referred to a doctor who listened.  The doctor said she suspected it was nothing, but wanted to do a diagnostic colonoscopy to be safe.  The colonoscopy was scheduled for the next week.

Fast forward two weeks and we were told my 48 year old wife has Stage II rectal cancer.  This cancer will require chemo/radiation; rectal resection with temporary ileostomy; followed by 16 doses of a fairly brutal chemotherapy cocktail.  All of which is estimated to consume the next year of her life.

Bam!  In a two-week span of time life changed forever.  My wife is now a member of a club to which she never wanted to belong.  My wife is resilient and the master of many things.  Ask anyone who knows her and they will tell you there is nothing she cannot do.  She can even make balloon animals and juggle for gosh sakes.  But life will be forever different.  Now there is life before cancer and life after cancer.

Our roles are shifting.  I am becoming the caregiver and she is becoming the patient.  The road ahead will be very bumpy.  My wife is the strongest person I know.  She can do this and we will make it through.  But I will not lie, I am pissed as hell she is having to do this.   My heart is broken that she will have to endure the next year of breaking her body down, poisoning her body, almost killing her body, so she can live.  She will not take one step of this journey alone.  She will not want for anything within my power.  But the pain, the sickness, the fatigue, the sheer misery cannot be taken away.  And that breaks my heart.

I am heartbroken our prayers for the cancer to be Stage 1 were not answered the way we wanted them to be.  I am heartbroken the person who means the most to me in this world is having to walk through something so barbaric.  I am heartbroken I cannot take this away from her and take it on myself.  I am utterly heartbroken.

Having said that, we are going to put our big girl panties on and we are declaring war on cancer.  We are going to suit up and kick cancers ass to the curb.  Cancer beware, we are coming for you and we will not stop until every mutant cell is dead.

Fuck you cancer.  You will not win.  Not. This. Time.