I still feel a small cringe every time I tell someone of Patrick's story for the first time. Typically there are two questions that come shooting down the barrel immediately after I relay the story. How old is he? Did/does he chew or smoke? I feel like I need a business card with a general synopsis of the story written on it and then in bold at the bottom it would read: 30 years old. Never smoked. Never chewed.
It's odd how this journey has put some things in perspective. Actually it has put many things in perspective. I find it hard to complain about hitting my not so funny bone, stubbing my toe or getting a paper cut. If you look at the face I'm most likely to complain to, you'll still see battle wounds that remind me that the ever so small incident that just occurred is nothing at all really. In comparison at least.
It seems like each day I get a phone call or read an email or some Facebook post that mentions another soldier fighting this battle we call cancer. It breaks my heart that children, mothers, grandpas, uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, coworkers, so many people are on this journey. Their own journey with cancer. Just tonight I heard of a 31 year old, soon to be father, athletic man and his recent diagnosis and treatment. My heart breaks for these people and their families. I will forever be so grateful that we caught this nasty disease as early as we did and albeit difficult, our journey could have been so much worse.
I'm tired. In fact, I'm tired of being tired. I know. Perspective. It could be worse. Our youngest has developed the never-ending tummy problems our oldest once had. It took her 15 months to grow out of and as it looks now, I've got another 8 months or so of sleepless nights. On top of that marvelous phenomenon our babe has another cold. To sum it up, I've got a seven month old with a stuffy nose, awful cough and tummy problems. I'm tired.
I've received a ton of positive feedback about this blog. As I've mentioned before, it's been therapeutic for me. It has helped spread the word about being aware of your body. It has informed the masses er our friends and families about the details of our journey. It has been the medium through which we have met other soldiers. It has shown many of you what the face of cancer can look like. What it has also done is take away Patrick's voice. It's taken away his chance to tell his story. Everyone he talks to has read the blog, so everything he says is old news.
I'm still wearing Patrick's wedding ring.
I mentioned in a previous brain dump that I want to help fight the cancer fight. I'm thinking that helping involves spreading the word about how many people are affected. I'm thinking helping means informing people about what the face of cancer looks like. I'm thinking helping means softening the blow for newly diagnosed soldiers, if that's even possible. I'm thinking maybe writing a book would be a good way to help fight the fight. Or, maybe I'll keep thinking.