Limbo, Limbo, Limbo

Just trying to keep things normal here in my house, for my kids, and for my husband and myself, as we sit here in Oncology Limbo getting through a few more days until we have a better idea of what he's fighting and how the hospital plans to fight it.

For the record, he will be treated at one of the best cancer hospitals in the country; I was there for my non-cancer surgery 6 months ago and we are comforted by the first-hand knowledge of the wonderful care I received as a patient in that hospital.

I am comforted by relatives and friends alike who have showed us so much care and concern (and made offers to help that I know enough to accept--and will do so soon). Some of these people are fighting their own battles with cancer right now. But they have reached out anyway--that means so much. Other friends have beaten cancer in the past.

Today I received a lot of encouragement from Pat Gohn. We were supposed to be recording a conversation to be used in her Among Women podcast, "Midlife Madres" series. I don't know if Pat got anything she can use or not, but she knows how to listen and she knows what it's like to go through this kind of scary time. I am grateful for each and every minute we spent on the phone today.

As I told Pat at one point, I am wrestling right now. There will be many decisions to be made. There will be things I'll have to "outsource" to others, kids' games I'll miss, plans I'll need to lay aside. It's not so much a "why me?" kind of wrestling as it is a "how do I handle all of what we've got going on and keep our collective sanity relatively intact?"

I might look calm on the outside, but my unscientific research is showing that hot flashes increase exponentially along with one's stress levels. Every so often it reaches its peak and the hot flashes bring along impatience, anger and, yes, tears. Even when I try my hardest to keep that from happening. So yes, calm on the outside, but my stomach is in knots and I think those knots are extending to the rest of me, because my pain level is off the charts today.

But there's a rosary in my pocket, ever ready for a prayer or ten. I'm getting to daily Mass as much as possible. I'm thankful for the encouragement and advice I have received. And when this after-dinner cup of (decaffeinated) Irish tea doesn't cut it, like now, I'm glad there's a carton of chocolate-peanut-butter-cup ice cream in the freezer.