At work I was better outwardly but inwardly I was a mess of
cranky, scared, sad and, well, just disconnected. Luckily it was Friday and luckily
I had a lot of basic tasks to do. Head down and uncomfortable I worked the day away.
But still. Yuck.
John’s son came for dinner so I thought maybe it was the
stepfamily stuff. It’s always hovering there in the polite way we talk and how
carefully we choose our topics when together. We don’t use these words:
wedding, marriage, divorce, Mom, sex or affair, and I’m the only one who will
say the word cancer out loud.
And I did. That was it. After dinner John and I talked about
plans for the weekend and he reminded me that Sunday plans were out because he’d
be doing “The Prep” and it hit me:
His big test. The in-hospital colonoscopy, performed by our
favorite surgeon is Monday morning at 7am. Oh. Dam. Oh Dam. All that cranky,
out-of-sorts misery is about cancer and chemo and The Test racing toward us.
But we are a different couple three years later. And I am a
different woman. I said, “Sit and talk to me.” So we bundled on the bed and
talked. I said, “What if..” and he said, “It will go like this…”. And I said, “I’m
going to be hard on you this time….” And he said, “I’ll listen this time…” and
we laughed. And laughed. We played the “If Cancer Comes Back” Game. We talked
about our voodoo beliefs and the deals with God we’ve each been making. I was
happy to hear the words “beach” and “diamonds”.
Looking forward to making love tonight because Sunday is not
an option. The Prep is a mess in every way with its pills and solutions and
salves and timers. But the real prep began last night laughing about what used
to be and what could come and how we’ll do it together.
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