Hi. It's just me. The husband. Pronounced TAY if you're keeping score at home. My turn to take a stab at this blog thang as the wifey tells me it is the thing to do nowadays if I want to keep up with the cool kids.
I am in complete awe of my wife for what she has done this past year and a half. I credit her for where we started and what we have become. She sees me as the rock, but she built this foundation. And I see even brighter days upcoming with our vision and where we want to be with our future. But don't get me wrong--with all the ups, there were the downs. A journey wouldn't be as strong without the little snags, the unexpected speed bumps, the intimidating obstacles.
With this blog, I want to take the time to share something that truly happened in the midst of her battle with cancer. As nurses and caregivers, we knew what needed to be done to overcome the physical aspects of beating this diagnosis. The doctor visits, the follow-ups, the chemotherapy, the surgery, the radiation...whatever it took, we were going to be there to give our 110% (my wife was 100% of it, I would be the other 10%). In addition to all this, we knew there was a mental component that needed to stay in good health throughout this entire journey but unfortunately, I don't think we truly had a full understanding of how BIG that portion of our wellbeing needed to coexist in order to keep cancer from showing its hideous face.
I made a note of that day: July 3, 2017. In a sense, I "blogged" it to myself on my phone and saved it in my Notes application. Several days later, I shared it with my wife. It's something I needed to voice. It's something she needed to hear. It's something WE needed as husband and wife.
Now for the note, raw and unedited. It's the only way it should be shared with everybody else.
The cancer is gone. But are we losing this battle? Physically...she got this, we got this. Chemo. Done. Surgery. Done. Radiation. No problem. Consider it...done. Rambling. Powerless. Losing. Overwhelmed. Powerless I used to be her Ativan. Her Xanax. Is that still me? If so then why am I not working? What am I doing wrong? I thought I was enough. I am no longer. Losing We were winning...I thought. Are we really losing then? The physical was easy...the mental is harder to break. This cancer should have been mine. Why her? Mother fucker. You should've went for me. Overwhelmed It's too much. It used to be a team. Me and her. Her and me. Well I want that team back. Because it's just too much. I feel like it's just me...taking care of this entire house. She has a pass. I can't say anything to her. She's dealing with her own stuff...stuff that is already too much for anybody to handle. So it's an automatic pass. But everybody else, man, I feel like I'm picking up after 6 kids at times (3 of them are teenage adults!)...it's weighing down on me. It's heavy. Even if it's just picking up after the 3 little ones...nobody else chips in. It's only when asked...by then I've already did it because it takes too much energy to keep nagging. Entertaining the older babies with one arm, holding monkey angel with the other...and sweeping the floors with one leg, cleaning the kitchen with the other...you get the picture. "Shut up you weak ass"...that's my mind yelling back at me. Fuck it...I can do this. That's my nature.
Man we've come a long, long way. And we fully understand there is still much more waiting for us. I am so proud of this family. I am enthused about our company. I am extremely ecstatic about our future. Our wellbeing is at an all time peak but I know we can reach even higher heights. Future success is already implanted because in the middle of it all is the empowered body, mind, and soul of an inspirational being--my wife.