Suddenly, your world can change in an instant.
For us, it was last Wednesday.
Cancer sucks. There's no other way to put it. And I am angry and sad and frustrated and scared that I am staring it in the face yet again, as I watch another loved one wearily take a deep breath and get ready to fight.
This will be a hard fight, but a fight that I know we will win. That we must win.
I'm seeing our prayers already working, and I just hope that they continue to turn the tide our way.
So, between hospital visits and tears and we-can-do-this-it'll-be-okays and anxiously waitingwaitingwaiting for results and biopsies and CAT scans, I can't say much else right now about triathlon. It might take me a bit here.
Right now, we're all gearing up for the fight of our lives.
And I'm really wishing I could just go to the track and run 800 repeats until my legs shook, until I couldn't breathe anymore, until I could barely stand. Because that's about all I think that would make it feel a little better. I tried to swim the other day, and I could barely move. I felt like it was quicksand. And, unfortunately, running to exhaustion is not allowed at the moment. Until, like, March.
So I'm going to have to channel this nervous energy somewhere else. Today I did it by taking Jackson to the dancing fountains at the park, and then to a pizza party, and then to the park again and a little DQ kiddie cup afterwards. And I said, "can you give Mommy a kiss?" to which he usually just leans in for a hug, but today, no....today, he puckered up and laid a big slobbery one on my cheek.
And I teared up and smiled, and thought, "this is even better than the 800s."
To everyone with a loved one fighting cancer out there, we're all in this together. Let's roll up our sleeves and take care of business.