Loading...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

It's Not Fair

It's not fair. This is a saying that I've never had much use for. To me, it smacks of nothing more than a victim statement that is usually delivered in a whiny tone to set the hairs on the back of your neck straight up. It's typically used in minor circumstances far too often to have any real meaning. Children use it when they don't get a cookie. Teenagers use it when they can't go off and do something all of their friends are doing. Adults use it when their being childish and selfish.

But I'm using it today. It's not fair.

My husband has been diagnosed with stage 2C Melanoma. This means the cancer is running amok through his body. It came to light when one of his moles got real dark and started to grow bigger. After my nagging him for a month, he finally made an appointment with the doctor. He now has a giant hole in his back where the mole used to be. During his follow-up exam, they found a lump under his arm and at his groin. More biopsies were done and we're waiting on those results. In addition, he has had some blurriness in his right eye that they believe is related. In the meantime, we have to schedule an appointment for a PET and CAT scan so they can confirm their diagnosis. Then the chemotherapy will begin. They claim at this stage that they can kill the cancer, but it is very likely it will be back within 5 years.

It's not fair. And I'm being real whiny, childish and selfish about it. We've had our ups and downs as a couple - like any couple has - but we are supposed to grow old and crabby together. At the very least retire together. The prospect of that happening now seems quite grim. For now anyway.

And that's the latest news from the Thornton household. Until this new adventure gets completely underway, it's life as normal with the exception of tip-toeing around the subject with each other. We're both very private people by nature and tend to keep things to ourselves, so this will be a real test for both of us. I actually thought long and hard about blogging about this, but I've got friends who read to check on things that way, so here it is.

Now as out of sorts as this may sound, I've gotta run and pick up dog bones before Paco and Mo kill me with their big sad eyes. I don't know what they put in those Nutri-Bones, but they're both quite addicted to them. And since they're both little beams of light within this big dark cloud, I best git to gittin'. More later.