I am never going to delete the voicemail Suzanne left me tonight. (I can save it with the text message I still have on my old cell phone, "Knocked up!" when she first got pregnant with Rory.) Breanna and I stopped at the drugstore on the way home from dance class to get some cold/flu medicine for a very sick Mike (his hours awake today: 5 total. Bless his heart.) When we got home, I took my phone out and noticed I had a voicemail. It was from Suzanne...my heart sank. I mean, after the spate of bad news from her, how could it not??? I played it as I got pots and pans out for dinner....and ended it with my jaw hanging open, unable to form thoughts or words. I played it again. I called her back and left her what I am sure was a pretty incoherent message. The only thing I remember saying is, "You can call back anytime. I will stay awake all night if I have to!" She called back within 30 minutes.
Her liver biopsy came back. She is so special that she has TWO different types of cancer. At the same time. This is incredibly rare. Even stranger, the liver cancer is not liver cancer - it's a digestive cancer. Original site? Unknown. The cervical cancer is now a stage 2B (!!!!!!!), but the liver is 4. More testing, headed out to Dana Farber (to see my kind of doc, an endocrinology oncologist) as the liver cancer is so rare (she is SUPER extra special!), then we proceed with two treatments (we think). Also, the liver cancer is not as agressive as metastasized cervical cancer, making it more treatable and (hopefully) life-extending.
Our official line is cautiously optimistic, but I cannot describe the feeling in my heart....I felt hope literally blossom like a flower in my chest. As it spread, I felt weight lift off my shoulders, I felt the dark clouds begin to dissipate in my mind.....I felt joy again. I laughed.
Oh, please Lord, let this be true. Let this be the miracle for which we so desperately pray each day. And, Lord, if it cannot be the miracle, let it at least be the gift of time......anything is better than the measly 9 months we were holding so tightly this morning.
I believe! I BELIEVE!!
Monday, February 27, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
and the winner is....
Tonight was the 84th Academy Awards. I always think of Suzanne and Kelly on Oscar night...before we all had children and couldn't stay out late on a Sunday night, they used to host Oscar parties at their house. If I close my eyes, I'm there...sitting on the floor in the living room, loving on Buster. If I really go back, I'm in the great room of the house on Overlook Circle...that's the party at which Jason fell on the sidewalk while leaving, bless his heart. I hope his ass doesn't hurt every year on Oscar night, remembering that icy walk! I should have asked him that during our Oscar text-fest tonight.
Usual Murphy party rules applied - drinks provided, bring your own if it's something not on the list, bring a snack to share, and, remember, Casa de Murphy is a national park: you bring it in, you bring it out. ( I could often weasel my way around that by bringing something one of them really liked....I still enjoy doing that.)
Score cards, printed by Suzanne and Kelly, in hand, we would pick our favorites, fix plates, and get down to business: judging the dresses. Who saw which film? What do you think the front-runners are in each category? Who is picking winners at pure random? Friends would catch up by the food table during commercial breaks, so much laughter rang through the house....and some really loud voices. One year, I even worked on a baby blanket Suzanne ordered from me for a friend's baby shower (Davey Hoy, maybe?) while I sat on the floor by the fireplace.
At the end of the night, prizes were given to those who had picked the winners. The prizes were crazy - re-gifted items no one would ever need, use, or want; dollar store specials; always funny. So funny. One year when I won, I remember hiding my scary prize under the couch cushions.....a treat for Suzanne to find later. I played dumb when she said she found it, but I couldn't stop laughing. It gave me away, I'm certain!
Tonight on Facebook, Sukrit posted that he was watching the Oscars and thinking of the fun times at Suzanne and Kelly's....it warmed my heart so much to know he was thinking of it, too. He posted a link to a blog he wrote after one - my favorite line was about KellyBoi (who he referred to just this way - I actually laughed right out loud! I thought only Suzanne and I referred to him as the Boi!), introducing Sukrit to all their friends. KellyBoi said that we were the most "sensitive, non-judgmental" group of people. I can think of no finer compliment. We are funny, we are loud, we are kind, we talk about theatre too much (or did before we had kids!), we geniunely love each other.....but wow. How wonderful that those were the first two things a friend would point out.
I doubt I will ever spend an Oscar night without smiling at these memories, trying to recall more details, feeling grateful that God blessed me with these people. It's my own award, more precious than any golden statue. Though I still wouldn't say no to a real Oscar.
Usual Murphy party rules applied - drinks provided, bring your own if it's something not on the list, bring a snack to share, and, remember, Casa de Murphy is a national park: you bring it in, you bring it out. ( I could often weasel my way around that by bringing something one of them really liked....I still enjoy doing that.)
Score cards, printed by Suzanne and Kelly, in hand, we would pick our favorites, fix plates, and get down to business: judging the dresses. Who saw which film? What do you think the front-runners are in each category? Who is picking winners at pure random? Friends would catch up by the food table during commercial breaks, so much laughter rang through the house....and some really loud voices. One year, I even worked on a baby blanket Suzanne ordered from me for a friend's baby shower (Davey Hoy, maybe?) while I sat on the floor by the fireplace.
At the end of the night, prizes were given to those who had picked the winners. The prizes were crazy - re-gifted items no one would ever need, use, or want; dollar store specials; always funny. So funny. One year when I won, I remember hiding my scary prize under the couch cushions.....a treat for Suzanne to find later. I played dumb when she said she found it, but I couldn't stop laughing. It gave me away, I'm certain!
Tonight on Facebook, Sukrit posted that he was watching the Oscars and thinking of the fun times at Suzanne and Kelly's....it warmed my heart so much to know he was thinking of it, too. He posted a link to a blog he wrote after one - my favorite line was about KellyBoi (who he referred to just this way - I actually laughed right out loud! I thought only Suzanne and I referred to him as the Boi!), introducing Sukrit to all their friends. KellyBoi said that we were the most "sensitive, non-judgmental" group of people. I can think of no finer compliment. We are funny, we are loud, we are kind, we talk about theatre too much (or did before we had kids!), we geniunely love each other.....but wow. How wonderful that those were the first two things a friend would point out.
I doubt I will ever spend an Oscar night without smiling at these memories, trying to recall more details, feeling grateful that God blessed me with these people. It's my own award, more precious than any golden statue. Though I still wouldn't say no to a real Oscar.
Friday, February 24, 2012
it's not just a river in Egypt. really.
I keep telling myself that I started this blog to write in it, but I just can't bring myself to sit down and do it. I tell myself it's because I can't pull the memories out....they are on a continuous reel in my mind, it never stops. It's as if my life is flashing behind my eyes....I can see all the moments that include Suzanne, but I can't see the details. They don't come. It won't slow down long enough for me to remember them properly. Ugh.
I believe it's a defense mechanism. My brain is trying to protect my bruised heart - it is too much. I also like to think it's saving them, hoarding the details away for a time when they are all I have left of her. Then the details will come, when I need them most - when I need to feel her spirit, to remember the fun we had, the love, the laughter, when my heart is ready to start mending.
I really hope that is true, because I need them - for the book, for the pages I need to write for Suzanne and Kelly, for me.....for comfort. Comfort escapes me now....so I try to stay busy. I work on the book, I work on Team SMAC's page, I answer e-mails and phone calls. I stay up too late, so sleep is hard and heavy....no dreams. Busy leaves me little time to think, and I love that. Time to think means that cold, hard reality creeps in...into every thought....it whispers all the awful things I am struggling with in my ear.....it leaves me battered and bruised, crying, aching.
It's after midnight....up too late again....I shall head to bed. I shall sleep....but not to dream.
I believe it's a defense mechanism. My brain is trying to protect my bruised heart - it is too much. I also like to think it's saving them, hoarding the details away for a time when they are all I have left of her. Then the details will come, when I need them most - when I need to feel her spirit, to remember the fun we had, the love, the laughter, when my heart is ready to start mending.
I really hope that is true, because I need them - for the book, for the pages I need to write for Suzanne and Kelly, for me.....for comfort. Comfort escapes me now....so I try to stay busy. I work on the book, I work on Team SMAC's page, I answer e-mails and phone calls. I stay up too late, so sleep is hard and heavy....no dreams. Busy leaves me little time to think, and I love that. Time to think means that cold, hard reality creeps in...into every thought....it whispers all the awful things I am struggling with in my ear.....it leaves me battered and bruised, crying, aching.
It's after midnight....up too late again....I shall head to bed. I shall sleep....but not to dream.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
love & grief
To be honest, I had never truly thought about us dying - either of us, really. It never occurred to me that life could exist without her. Now that I am forced to face that thought -death - I find that I have the perfect scenario in mind: When we were both 90 - 100+, we would both die on the same day. Within minutes of each other - so neither had time to find out about the other. I like this plan. In this plan, I would never, ever have to live in a world that did not include her. This plan calms me, makes me smile....we are old and grey (grey-er for her - ha!!!), our families are big and boisterous, we are sharp and content and enjoying our twilight years.
Reality sucks. Wait, what's that '90s movie? Reality Bites. That' s it. Boy does it. Reality means this is not how our lives will play out. Reality says that I am going to have to face a world that does not include her. Maybe for a long time. I am not okay with this bastard, reality. I am not okay with our plans not happening, not growing old together, embarrassing our children together, doing ordinary things together, all the laughing....oh the laughing. I know should she leave me, I will miss that most of all.
I know what people will say...they say that because I am (working hard on) accepting reality that I am a fatalist. I have accepted the doctor's odds, and I have given up hope.
You could not be more wrong. Hope is exactly what I do have. Hope. Belief. Belief in this incredible woman by whose side I have walked most of my life. Belief in miracles, because they happen every day. Belief in the power of prayer, the power of love, the power of positive thinking.
I believe. I also believe that if she has accepted reality, then I should honor that. Hell, any one of us could get hit by a truck tomorrow. End of story. When the story ends, for either of us, I want to smile through my tears, knowing that I shared all that was in my heart. All the memories we made together filled my heart so full, and I told her how much it all meant. That as much as I love her, I will love her children that much more. For as long as God will let me. This I can do...to combat the helplessness....to work through the sorrow....to screw my head on straight so I can show one ounce of the courage and grace she exemplifies on a daily basis.
I believe.
Reality sucks. Wait, what's that '90s movie? Reality Bites. That' s it. Boy does it. Reality means this is not how our lives will play out. Reality says that I am going to have to face a world that does not include her. Maybe for a long time. I am not okay with this bastard, reality. I am not okay with our plans not happening, not growing old together, embarrassing our children together, doing ordinary things together, all the laughing....oh the laughing. I know should she leave me, I will miss that most of all.
I know what people will say...they say that because I am (working hard on) accepting reality that I am a fatalist. I have accepted the doctor's odds, and I have given up hope.
You could not be more wrong. Hope is exactly what I do have. Hope. Belief. Belief in this incredible woman by whose side I have walked most of my life. Belief in miracles, because they happen every day. Belief in the power of prayer, the power of love, the power of positive thinking.
I believe. I also believe that if she has accepted reality, then I should honor that. Hell, any one of us could get hit by a truck tomorrow. End of story. When the story ends, for either of us, I want to smile through my tears, knowing that I shared all that was in my heart. All the memories we made together filled my heart so full, and I told her how much it all meant. That as much as I love her, I will love her children that much more. For as long as God will let me. This I can do...to combat the helplessness....to work through the sorrow....to screw my head on straight so I can show one ounce of the courage and grace she exemplifies on a daily basis.
I believe.
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