After days of not knowing, Patrick called on Thursday and gave me the bad news. His doctor called, and gave him his results. The abnormal spot that he saw was a reoccurrence of his cancer. As Patrick tells me this over the phone, I break out in a cold sweat, get queasy, and my day came to a screeching halt. All I could say was "Honey, its ok, and we will get through this together." He told me that he was about 20 min from Columbia, and he was going to go to his oncologist's office here in Columbia. I asked him if he wanted me to meet him there, and he said that he would be fine and to go on home.
I can't imagine what I looked like. After an I love you, he hung up. My coworker Adelle was on the phone. I just stuck my head in her office, quietly said "I have to leave," and without another word, walked to the car in tears. I held it together until I pulled into Cameron's day care, and hot tears poured down my face. I sat in the parking lot and wept. I don't know how long, but it seemed like forever. It was as though a volcano of emotion had erupted, and the tears felt like rivers of lava pouring down my cheeks burning everything in their path.
I get home, and Patrick is there waiting. I gave him a huge hug, kissed him on the cheek, and told him I loved him. On his way home he had stopped an picked up bubbles for Cameron. He had a blanket by the door, and said "Let's go outside." The three of us, Buster and Eli (our pug children) went outside. Patrick spread out the blanket in the sun, and we blew bubbles. Cameron was playing and laughing without a care in the world. Eli nearly turned somersaults to bite the bubbles out of the air. Cameron's laughter was contagious. She and the dogs played for a while, and Patrick and I just sat in the sun.
We didn't really say anything, just sat. What was there to say? The silence was not uncomfortable. It was more like a collective deep breath to calm our nerves for the next step. With all the emotions, I wanted nothing more than to sit there with my little family and pretend that it was all just a horrible dream. That the worst of my troubles was how I was going to get Cameron to stop dragging Buster around the yard by his ears, and how to keep Eli from drinking the bubble solution. I wished I could have just stayed in that sunny spot in the grass all day. The sun was moving behind the house, and there was a nip in the air, so we left the oasis of blanket in the yard and came inside.
My night was filled with very little sleep. It was in the yard I decided I was going to write, and that was just what I did. I wrote for hours. I looked up and it was nearly 1:00am. Cameron and Patrick were in the bed beside me, and they were both resting so peacefully in the light of my monitor. I watched them sleep for what seemed like hours. I knew that I had to do the same, so I closed my computer, snuggled down beside my family and prayed. Prayed for healing. Prayed for strength. Prayed that I could be the helpmate that Patrick would need. Prayed that I could be the Mom that Cameron will need when Patrick is in his healing process. Prayed that I could somehow keep all of the balls in the air without dropping them.
I just prayed....