Time Marches on
It's been a long time since I've posted here. I can't say that I have a good excuse, other than the good news that Anna has defeated breast cancer! My sincerest apologies to those who may have been (or have tried to continue to be) loyal readers. My hope is to continue from here with a bit more consistency.
Where to begin again?
Anna has emerged, fully healthy and cancer free from her fight (remission is a stupid, stupid term). While this may well be the single greatest thing to report, we of course, will always be victims of the "what ifs" that come with annual MRI and mammogram checkups. As said before, the black cloud will always loom. However, knowing you can't live your life in constant worry, we devote ourselves to living life happily, in love with the fact that she's going to be around for a long, long time.
Speaking of MRI's and mammograms, she arose from her recent firsts since treatment perfectly.
Our son is now almost two. Acts like it, too. But a wonderful, beautiful reminder of why we're here on this earth.
We did the Three Day Walk For Breast Cancer, sponsored by the Susan G. Komen Foundation a while ago. 60 miles of walking in three days. To anyone who reads that and thinks, "walking? I could totally do 60 miles," I submit that you're incomprehensibly wrong. I walked every single one of those (expletive) sixty miles. It (expletive) HURT! There were points along the way, that as I walked alone (others would either return to camp to convalesce or catch a van ride to the next checkpoint), I would sit down in a stranger's front yard along the route and literally cry, rationalizing to myself that if i didn't continue, it would only hurt more. As bad as it hurt at the time, I knew I would never forgive myself if I hadn't completed the damned thing, bloody stumps for feet and all.
I fucking owned it.
For at least three weeks later, it owned me. I was awarded the nickname "Gimp Pimp" during the walk. I have a somewhat unnatural "hitch" in my walk due to a hip replacement, but this walk pronounced it to a point that I looked like an octogenarian Ice T on the Red Carpet at the World Porno Awards without a walker. Not a pretty sight.
Needless to say, things are getting back to normal in our lives, but I plan to continue this blog-- not only as the husband survivor of breast cancer, but as a husband and human being period. Some of you may not be interested in all of the posts that take place from here (from my opinions on sports, music, etc), but please know that this will still (and always) be dedicated to the struggle my amazing wife went through, while continuing to be a news bulletin of sorts in regards to her health and well-being.
I appreciate the incredible outpouring of support this blog has provided-- both from friends and family to those I've never met. This interwebby thing can be amazing at times.
Where to begin again?
Anna has emerged, fully healthy and cancer free from her fight (remission is a stupid, stupid term). While this may well be the single greatest thing to report, we of course, will always be victims of the "what ifs" that come with annual MRI and mammogram checkups. As said before, the black cloud will always loom. However, knowing you can't live your life in constant worry, we devote ourselves to living life happily, in love with the fact that she's going to be around for a long, long time.
Speaking of MRI's and mammograms, she arose from her recent firsts since treatment perfectly.
Our son is now almost two. Acts like it, too. But a wonderful, beautiful reminder of why we're here on this earth.
We did the Three Day Walk For Breast Cancer, sponsored by the Susan G. Komen Foundation a while ago. 60 miles of walking in three days. To anyone who reads that and thinks, "walking? I could totally do 60 miles," I submit that you're incomprehensibly wrong. I walked every single one of those (expletive) sixty miles. It (expletive) HURT! There were points along the way, that as I walked alone (others would either return to camp to convalesce or catch a van ride to the next checkpoint), I would sit down in a stranger's front yard along the route and literally cry, rationalizing to myself that if i didn't continue, it would only hurt more. As bad as it hurt at the time, I knew I would never forgive myself if I hadn't completed the damned thing, bloody stumps for feet and all.
I fucking owned it.
For at least three weeks later, it owned me. I was awarded the nickname "Gimp Pimp" during the walk. I have a somewhat unnatural "hitch" in my walk due to a hip replacement, but this walk pronounced it to a point that I looked like an octogenarian Ice T on the Red Carpet at the World Porno Awards without a walker. Not a pretty sight.
Needless to say, things are getting back to normal in our lives, but I plan to continue this blog-- not only as the husband survivor of breast cancer, but as a husband and human being period. Some of you may not be interested in all of the posts that take place from here (from my opinions on sports, music, etc), but please know that this will still (and always) be dedicated to the struggle my amazing wife went through, while continuing to be a news bulletin of sorts in regards to her health and well-being.
I appreciate the incredible outpouring of support this blog has provided-- both from friends and family to those I've never met. This interwebby thing can be amazing at times.
posted by Kevin Ess at 11:11 PM
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