Last week my good friend and sister-in-law, Todd's caregiver when he was sick, found out after having a gall bladder attack, that she had cancer. It was shocking to all of us, especially to her family. Kelly is a rock. She is the strong one in the family. She is the glue that holds everyone together. Thankfully, they were able to get all the cancer and she is recuperating at home, but just the thought of losing her was enough to send us all into shock.
Wednesday as we waited to hear from the surgeon, all I could do was to remember that day I waited to hear from Todd's surgeons. Todd was in surgery for 10 hours on February 17, 2005. I remember the surgeon coming out after that long day, looking exhausted, and his pants and shoes covered in blood, Todd's blood. I can't remember much of what he said, but I remember him saying they almost lost him a few times, but that he was now stable in ICU.
What a horrible place ICU was. Machines beeping and clicking and humming. I watched as one machine pushed Todd's chest up and down to keep him breathing. I saw many more attached to him from everywhere beeping and humming away. I watched the nurses busily checking wires, tubes, bags, vitals. I remember staring at a stranger laying in that bed that they told me was Todd.
Cancer is a horrible thing. It sneaks up on you in silence, then pounces, and spreads quickly. It is painful. It is deadly. I don't like the word and I don't like the disease. It is a nightmare to live through. I hate cancer.