In the middle

The surgery is today, right now…

From the moment we received the diagnosis of Ewing’s Sarcoma, we winced the most at the thought of removing the site of the cancer’s origin:  his 3rd and 4th metatarsals, left foot.  If anyone can overcome a deficit, it’s Eric;  he’s strong, athletic, centered physically.  The idea of receiving IV poison every 3 weeks wasn’t nearly as bad as losing most, if not all, of his foot.  As the chemo did its job reducing the size of the tumor, there was a small, glimmer of wishful hope that maybe this would not have to happen.

Of course it does, though.  The marrow is the place where the gene-switching started.  The tumor has eroded those those rays and the surrounding tissue like pacman eating ghosts.  That shit’s gotta go.

He’ll be fine, he’ll do well, he’s a champ…easy stuff to say, but the tears are real and the cycle of grief is unrelenting.  We just want to get it over with now.  He’ll be in the hospital for 5-7 days, stay on crutches for a little while, and continue his chemo, even.  He can possibly return to work, on the crutches, in 3 weeks.

I’m taking the girls to school and proceeding on over to Memorial Sloan-Kettering to sit with Melissa.  Nothing like a hospital experience to bond a mother and daughter, eh?  Well, we didn’t really need it.  Melissa and I have always been incredibly close, despite the miles between our homes.  We have weathered many losses, many pains, and many surgeries together.  No, we didn’t need this at all.

Dear friends, maybe you know lots of people with cancer and you faithfully share all the memes that curse the damn shit.  But I pray, for you, that you never have to watch someone you love go through this, while you stand by helpless and afraid.   I also understand if you have watched a loved one suffer through this and the mere mention of the big C makes you run and hide.  I thank you for any little prayer you can send.  I’m not ashamed to ask, again, for you to contribute to help Emma and Eliza (click on it).


So we move forward, 6 months in, 6 more to go,  grateful for the friends who have reached out to help, thankful for constant Presence, and confident that the healing will be complete.