Well, it's Good Friday, 2013. Though the date changes yearly I use Good Friday as my cancer free marker. Another Good Friday, earlier in time, was the day I got "the call".
This is my third year out as some say or cancer free year as others. All year, for all three, I've thought "This Good Friday won't be that big of a deal". I'm not usually the kind to celebrate or even notice 'markers' of time. Then the week of Easter rolls around and all I can think about is being another year as a breast cancer survivor. It's all very surreal.
That Good Friday in 2010 seems surreal too. So long ago in some ways. Others just like yesterday. Chris and I had always talked about coloring Easter Eggs. Every year we "meant" to do that. Since 1990 we've only talked about coloring eggs. That night, well, that night Chris went to the store late to pick up some things. He came back about 11:30 with a ton of eggs and coloring kits. Chris didn't know what kind to buy so he just got a little of everything. But no vinegar. He didn't know we'd need that. The eggs turned out okay, but the night turned out perfect. Strange as it may sound, that was one of our best nights together, ever. I'd venture to say our best.
What I went through? Eh, that was jus a bump in the road. God made me to handle the tough stuff. So I believe, looking back, that I did quite well under the pressure. (Others may not remember things this way. I don't know.)
Double mastectomy, 12 months of infusion chemo, 35 rounds of radiation, a wife who is hungry ALL THE TIME, reconstrucion....... Sometimes I do not believe much consideration of what those married to or the children of those struggling with cancer endure. All thought is toward the one sick.
Chris was an amazing nurse throughout. From the first day after "the call" with Easter Eggs, to the appointments with the oncologist and radiologist the next Friday and all his MANY questions (and good questions-he asked things I never would have thought of to ask.), he was quite brave.
During my treatments and recovery times I was blessed to have a husband who works on a farm. Chris was there to check on me. And he did during the day-a lot! Ugh, I would just be drifting to sleep the day of and the few days after chemo when I would hear the mud room door open ever so quietly, then spurs jingle jangle through the kitchen, then ever so quietly again opening our bedroom door. He would stand there just a minute, realize I was awake and ask, "Just wanted to check and make sure you are alive. Do you need anything? Are you okay?" So funny. Then he would turn and quietly leave-spurs jingle jangle. Those dad gum spurs are what roused me from my drifting off. Chris was quiet with the door but never thought about the jingle jangle and how that can't be kept quiet, even when you walk on tip toes.
Now, my husband (and NO spouse or family member is. Looking back I have regrets on how I handle things....especially my wardrobe.) was by no means perfect during those couple of years of chaos of finding out about the cancer, decision making, dealing with cancer emotionally and physically, surgeries, a HUNGRY wife and....the endless things that go along with cancer. However, he, and I think other spouses may not be, given credit for what they also endure and overcome. A changed wife, emotionally and physically, having to work their job, take care of kids in some cases, fear of the unknown, fear of what could happen, fear of what is happening, extra workload of running a house and a farm for Chris- his days were added mowing the yard and bush hogging the fields (what I usually do), cook meals, clean house, laundry, and on and on. Now that didn't happen every day. I wasn't down and out all the time, I was okay much of the time. But weak all of the time and not able to do as much as before cancer. And HUNGRY. (Did I say I was hungry?)
Chris was there everyday to see effects as spouses are. However he was there much more than the average husband because he worked at home. Good for me looking back, but that had to be hard for him. No break. He got no break. Not like most spouses do because they work outside of home. And work can add at least a certain amount of normalcy to life. People may think "break? That doesn't sound right, the cancer patient has no break". Well, spouses and children need a break! Yes, the patient is having to endure a lot. But so is the family. If they can get a break, any kind of break, well I'm all in for that.
The pain of my treatment, it wasn't confined to Wednesday chemo to Monday back at work. No, the care I needed was every day. And Chris did it. I am forever grateful for that. And for his patience with a HUNGRY cancer patient who wanted nothing but for him to run to town and get me something to eat.
So, the next time you know a spouse or the children of a cancer patient, tell them something to help them endure their own struggle. Don't forget them. They need strength. At times more than the patient.
Thank you Chris. I don't think I've ever given you enough credit for your endurance and love. I
love you.
<><
This is my third year out as some say or cancer free year as others. All year, for all three, I've thought "This Good Friday won't be that big of a deal". I'm not usually the kind to celebrate or even notice 'markers' of time. Then the week of Easter rolls around and all I can think about is being another year as a breast cancer survivor. It's all very surreal. 
During my treatments and recovery times I was blessed to have a husband who works on a farm. Chris was there to check on me. And he did during the day-a lot! Ugh, I would just be drifting to sleep the day of and the few days after chemo when I would hear the mud room door open ever so quietly, then spurs jingle jangle through the kitchen, then ever so quietly again opening our bedroom door. He would stand there just a minute, realize I was awake and ask, "Just wanted to check and make sure you are alive. Do you need anything? Are you okay?" So funny. Then he would turn and quietly leave-spurs jingle jangle. Those dad gum spurs are what roused me from my drifting off. Chris was quiet with the door but never thought about the jingle jangle and how that can't be kept quiet, even when you walk on tip toes.
