First steps

It's so hard to know when to "be there" for someone. When to take off work, when to smile and make jokes, when to cry, when to act like everything is normal.

I'm glad I went to the hospital for Keith's first procedure -- I think it helped us both. I was able to meet the doctors and have the "port" and feeding tube explained. Laying on a hospital bed waiting for doctors and nurses to do something is unnerving if you don't have someone with you to provide some distraction.

Just someone to talk to -- that's so very important. Keith needs it, of course, but so does the entire family. We talk of big things, like cancer, but also little things like bills and shopping, errands and work.

We talk about odds -- what they mean -- what they might mean. We weigh and balance the odds of survival. The odds of treatment vs no treatment. The odds of getting better later against wellness now. Life becomes a game of craps. How ironic is that? Hasn't it always been, but we just don't usually pay attention?

This past few weeks have put love and marriage into focus. This truly is what marriage is all about -- being with someone heart and soul. It is about saying the words I Love You and meaning them with every fiber of your being. It's about finally understanding the depth of your marriage vows and that how we manage to hold on to each other through the most difficult times of our lives is what those vows were really all about.

If cancer can bring a gift along with the fear and sadness -- it is that. Love at its deepest and most meaningful. I understand now, at the very core of my heart, that the man facing this terrible challenge is not just a part of my life -- he is my life.