In my last post I laid out all the contributors to 2009 being a shitty year…and they were all health related. All health related and all bad, mind you. It’s not like we ran into a magic genie that decided to add 10 years to each of our lives or give me x-ray vision like I’ve always wanted…no, no, no. Trauma, surgeries, heartbreak fucking nastiness is what we’ve had to contend with.
And, as I noted, it’s all come to a head this week. It’s on our mind. It’s in our bellies. It’s made us hyper-mindful of how we interact with each other because now we’re both on the same page about how big of a scoop life has taken out of us this year. Perhaps needless to say…it’s been a heavy week. So when Rhonda noticed a lump in her breast and was immediately scheduled to have a mammogram and ultrasound, it was almost unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.
Some of my best posts come when a storm is blowing up. But I just couldn’t write about it when this was going on. I’ve already considered the loss of both my girls this year. And I have actually loss my third girl and had my expectations of another baby crushed two additional times. What’s allowed me to get through it all is that I have my wife…my life partner. We are a team and we have kept each other strong through these 12 perilous months. The 48 hours of apprehension and anxiety brought on by the very real possibility that my partner could die was too much for me to process. Instead of writing it all down, I folded into myself like a dying star and began to fade away.
We went to the appointments together that were, thankfully, with a female doctor we are semi-friendly with. They made Rhonda a priority and let me be more involved than is usually the case for husbands in situations like these. I don’t know how long people normally wait for results, but I was so appreciative that we got the special attention. Less time to ruminate. Once our tests were completed, it was time for the results. Rhonda and I held hands tightly in the darkened room with large imaging screens on all sides; it’s the room where radiologists and interpret test results and identify, with eerie precision, just how dire the situation is. Of course there’s a preamble that is designed to help you emotionally prepare for what you could hear. But I don’t know what it was. I couldn’t hear it because I was focused on my breathing, appreciative of the lack of light because tears were already streaming down my face.
But we’re ok. The lump is likely hormonal, related to the fact that Rhonda has been pregnant multiple times this year. It could also be related to her caffeine intake which, like mine, is rather high. Either way, it’s not cancer. Thank God. Astonishing relief. And still…un-fucking-believable.
So once again, fuck 2009. And now that we know everything is ok with Rhonda, I’m going to add a few other minor things to the list of 2009 blisters. Notably less significant than broken bones and surgeries but still somewhat emotionally traumatic for me is the fact that I’m going blind and had to get glasses. Yep, I stare at a computer screen so many hours a day that when my eyes are returned to the real world, I can’t see shit. My wife says I’m going deaf, too but that’s going to go undiagnosed for awhile because I can’t handle anymore revelations that have to do with the systematic dismantling of me. THEN…then there are the three trips to the dentist. It took three trips because even though they have drilled, grinded and finally chipped out one of my teeth, they still have not remedied the pain that I feel in my lower left molar when I eat, drink, chew, breathe (see: anything). But similar to the deaf thing – the inevitable root canal is going to go into a holding pattern for the time being because I can’t handle more dental work in 2009.
Hey, nice glasses.