So yeah. My husband has cancer. After the colonoscopy (in which they did a biopsy), it’s real.
It will take 3-4 business days to get the results of the biopsy. He’ll also be having surgery sometime this week to remove the mass, but it’s not scheduled yet.
At some point, probably after the surgery, they’ll be able to talk about staging and how bad it is.
I’m encouraged that it’s on his left side, because I’ve read that the prognosis is much better for colon cancers on the left side than the right.
I’m holding up better than my oldest kid, who is helping out a ton with transporting his brothers to and from school thanks to a special arrangement with his boss, so I can be with my husband. And you know, get enough rest that I hopefully won’t have a relapse of my MS.
But my oldest is also so responsible and so conscientious. He has a pretty bad cough so he actually went into the same freestanding ER where we took my husband. He said his dad had cancer and he didn’t want to get everyone sick on the oncology ward. (Turns out it’s just allergies.) The staff at the freestanding ER remembered us though and told my kid “give your mom a hug, she needs it.”
I’m lucky I have so much to do between freelance work and going to visit him and keeping the household running. Because if I have time to think, my mind turns to how scary it all is.
The scariest of all: he’s only been at his job for six weeks. He doesn’t have any vacation time for a year. I don’t know if he’ll still have a job–I’d suspect he will since they seem decent. But more importantly, I don’t know if he’ll get paid during the recovery time. If he doesn’t, things will be pretty dicey and we won’t be able to pay our rent. I could do more freelance work, but I’d have to be home more and doing less housework.
There are so many unknowns. This year is our 25th wedding anniversary. We wanted to take a trip to California. We already figured that wouldn’t happen because of his new job and the lack of vacation time.
But now we are celebrating that we are still alive, him with colon cancer and me with my MS. Life sure doesn’t look the way we thought it would in our early 20s. But like my middle son said tonight, the fact that we still have a support network in each other through circumstances like this is a rare gift in itself.
I’m sure I’ll write more about this as I process it more. I wouldn’t be surprised if I someday see it as a gift, the way I feel about my MS. But right now, it’s all just kinda scary and surreal and I’m trying not to think about it.