Spousal Anxiety During Staging

Spousal Anxiety During Staging

Just another Tuesday. 

Everyone at work is on task. I’m busy. Holiday lights abound. The flowers Brian bought me for our anniversary are beautiful but waning. 

And Brian got his PET scan today. 

You hear about the steps and tests that it takes to diagnose disease, but really have no idea what it means. Well I’ve been finding out not for myself, but, more painfully to me, for the man I love.

Someone with shitty aim tried to find a vein in his arm. Then his hand. Finally, his other arm was successfully conquered by lucky Number Two. Once we’re all home after work and school, we are gathered around the kitchen island. Brian has short sleeves on, so you can see the bandages from the success and failures. We joke about it, but my heart hurts. He’s so healthy and vibrant (perhaps a code name for smart ass), yet seriously ill. I still can’t wrap my head around it.

Did you know they pump radioactive dyes in for a PET scan? I would have had more anxiety about it had I known, so I suppose it’s best I didn’t. Again, the word helpless breezes through the space between us.

I will do everything a caretaker can, but will it be enough to help him make it through the bad days? Can my words, actions and kindness translate into value in this fight? 

We will find out.

Cancer ambushed us. While cancer isn’t necessarily habit or age based, I just didn’t see it happening to any contemporary, much less Brian. 

Today, I have anxiety. It is not just any day. Today My Love takes the final test to assert cancer stage. Tomorrow we get the final results.

How bizarre it is to hope we get stage IIIa. At some point we’ll hashtag our entries to give other couples the type of information we sought but couldn’t find. Something good needs to come out of this. For now, this is so friends know what’s up and for me, a way to process.

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