Isn't it ironic...

I'm happy to report that my husband is NOT dead, but not because he didn't try.  Yesterday afternoon, he was feeling pretty good, so he decided to do some spring cleaning of our pool area.  He hasn't been up to a lot of stuff, so it was looking pretty rough.  The first item on the agenda was to blow the leaves off of the top of the pool cage.  So, using the electric leaf blower, he started...and then managed to fall backwards into the pool while still holding the ELECTRIC leaf blower.  Thankfully, when our house was built, they must have used a good electrician, because our GFCI outlet did what it was supposed to do, and he was not electrocuted.  Because he did live through this ordeal, it's somewhat funny.  If he hadn't though, I can't help but think about the irony of my husband dying by electrocution just three days after having been given the all clear for his cancer.  I'm sure it would have made the paper.   Headline: "Man dies of electrocution after being cured of cancer." 

Of course, he was pretty mad at me for not running out there immediately.  He said, "Didn't you hear me yelling out there??"  I was like, "I heard you swearing, but that's not so unusual that it raised concern."  He just grumbled while he dripped off.

And the good news is...

We got the results of the PET scan yesterday, and, according to Wayne's oncologist, "It looks good."  He is not showing any abnormal cell activity at this time, so for now, we're done with chemo and radiation and blood tests.  He'll need to be monitored regularly, and he won't be considered "cured" until he's been cancer free for 5 years, but it's a start.  It feels really good to be looking at summer vacation without the "C" word hanging over us.

Feeling morbid...

Tomorrow we find out the results of Thursday's PET scan.  My brain is thinking really miserable, morbid thoughts, and I can't make it stop.  I want to be positive; I really do.  But my brain keeps wondering what will happen if the PET scan shows more cancer.  What will he have to do next?  Can we do more chemo?  How much chemo can a person stand before the treatment kills them?  What if he has to go on disability?  What if the doctor gives us a time frame for how much longer he has?  What would I do without him?  How will I afford to live?  Would I sell the house?  Could I sell the house?  Should I get a condo instead?  How would I possibly get the house ready to sell?  The experts say to not make any decisions for at least a year after a spouse dies, but what if I can't make the mortgage payments?  Who will mow the lawn?  Who will remember to change the oil in the car? 

Shut up, Brain.  Just shut up.

Field Trip...

The two of us chaperoned a field trip last night to Universal Studios in Orlando.  We took 148 8th graders over there for their graduation trip.  We left at 1:45 in the afternoon, and we pulled into our driveway at 3:21 am. 

Last year, I went by myself.  Wayne was supposed to go too, but then he got a music gig at the last minute, so he had to cancel.  It's an awesome trip, and Universal really makes it worthwhile to be a chaperone.  They have free Chaperone Lounges with snacks and drinks.  They give each chaperone a fast pass wristband, so we got to skip to the front of the lines.  Last year, I hung out with some teacher friends, and we booked around the park going on every ride at least once and hardly sitting down at all.  With Wayne last night, we took it easy.  We went on several rides, but we enjoyed taking it slow.  We rested often.  I was worried that he might have to cancel this year because of not feeling well enough, but I think he did pretty good.  He started to feel pretty beat by the end (so did I!), but it was great to be out there doing something out of the usual. 

It was also good for us, I think.  I know we weren't alone by any stretch of the imagination, but just spending some time together to do something fun was really welcome.  I miss him, and I miss doing "stuff."  I'm really hoping that with the end of chemo now, he'll start feeling better soon and want to do more things over the weekends.  I'm not blaming him, and I don't feel intentionally slighted, but it it was hard to go many places on our days off when he was feeling sick after his Thursday chemo sessions.  Here's to more busy weekends on the horizon!

PET scan...

So this morning was Wayne's PET scan.  We have an appointment on Monday to find out what's going on.  I'm feeling very anxious about the results.  I want so much to feel positive that all of the treatments for the last 9 months have worked, and he'll get a scan that is clear of any cancer cells.  I want to believe that.  One part of my brain keeps telling me to think positively.  Positive thoughts bring positive results, right?  Then the other part of my brain is scared and fearful that it will not be clear.  I don't want these negative thoughts floating around my house and wreaking havoc on his cells.   I want them gone!  Go away negative thoughts...go away.

One hair...

My husband has lost all of his hair to chemo.  He used to have hair on his head and a goatee and mustache.  He used to have eyebrows and eyelashes.  He used to have a hairy chest.  He used to have a good amount of body hair pretty much where ever a man is supposed to have it.  It's all gone now.  The chemo started out slow, but then it all fell out. 

But there's this one hair on his upper lip.  ONE hair.  I joke with him about this one hair.  When I kiss him, it pokes me in the lip.  If I touch his lip, I can feel it.  When he's in the sun, I can see it glistening.  It's just so funny to see this one solitary hair.  But in a way, it's really unbelievable too.  This one hair is hanging on and one and on.  Maybe this one little mustache hair is showing the others where to colonize when the time comes.  Maybe this one hair is just that much stronger than the rest and it refused to let go when other hairs gave up.  Maybe this one hair is there to make my husband feel a little less like a naked mole rat.  I don't know. 

He actually shaved it off this morning because he thought it was looking weird to have this one hair sticking out.  I feel pretty sure it will grow in again, and maybe with the last chemo last week, it will bring friends. 

Done...

Well, with any luck, Wayne had his last chemo treatment yesterday.  I'm really ready to be done with chemo and cancer and all of this.  I'm pretty sure he's ready too. 

Next week, he has the PET scan to see if all this chemo has worked.  I'm scared that the PET scan will come back with something else, and we'll have to start over again.  I'm not sure either of us is up to that.

I have things that I want to say, but the words are stuck.  I just so much want to be done. 

It's definitely not been the fun party time they promised.

A new husband...

One of my friends from work was telling me today how she and her husband are going to couple's therapy.  Obviously, I don't know all the ins and outs of any relationship, but her hubby seems like a good guy, and mostly she seems to like him.  Anyway, she was saying today that she was bored.  The thrill of the chase was gone.  She likes the excitement of a new relationship, and learning a new person.

I think she's nuts. 

Having to get a new husband is one more thing that terrifies me about Wayne having cancer.  Besides loving him, I like my husband.  I'm used to him.  We get along well.  We have stupid jokes we both laugh at.  He doesn't make me go to weird restaurants.  He knows what I like and don't like.  We have worked out most of the really difficult things that pop up in the early years of any relationship, and we're still together.  I joke that I have him trained the way I want him.   If he dies, I'd either have to start again with someone else or resign myself to being alone at 43. 

Yeah, after 13 years, our marriage is not always roses and fireworks, but I'm okay with that.  I do not want to date again.  I don't want to have to learn new weird quirks.  I don't want to get used to new noises during the night.  I don't want to have to hammer out the division of household chores.  I don't want to talk about "money."  I don't want to get to know new in-laws or step-kids.  I don't want to wash some stranger's socks or underwear.  I don't want to teach a new man what I like in bed.  I don't want to get naked in front of someone new!  I don't want to have to explain my kinks or what I like and don't like.

None of this sounds like fun to me.  It does not sound exciting or thrilling.  It just sounds like too much work, and I'd much prefer to stick with what I have.