Cancer... Me??

November is Pancreatic Cancer Awareness month.
It is also Lung Cancer Awareness month.
It is ALSO the time of year that I get my annual mammogram.

Though the recommendation is to have a mammogram once every two years, my Doctor has them done yearly for me. Not because there is anything that is being "watched" but because she is sensitive to the fact that my husband died from Pancreatic Cancer. So, Monday I had my annual screening... and Tuesday I got a phone call saying that the radiologist wanted additional views, so an appointment was set for today (Friday). The morning didn't go great. My van is in having the rear brakes replaced, I couldn't find a ride so I had to drive my convertible. Mind you it is NOVEMBER in WISCONSIN and though the weather is unseasonably mild, it was still only in the 40's. Which means the top on my convertible, is cold... and hard... and wouldn't go up. So, I wore a winter coat, gloves and a hat and was thankful there was no wind or rain and drove to my follow up appointment... in my convertible (her name is Tink, in case you're wondering).

I get there, change into the beautiful pink kimono thing they have you wear and wait for my screening. Once in the room, the technician tells me that if needed I will have an ultrasound following the mammogram. Ok... but I'm not concerned and I'm not going to need that...

When we are done, she says that she is going to show the images to the radiologist, but she thinks he will want an ultrasound. Wait... WHAT?!? He did in fact want an ultrasound, so I'm told to get my things out of the locker they were in because I will not be coming back to this area. I do that, sit down in the waiting room, and text my best friend Jane "Talk me off of my ledge. This might not be nothing" that is the point that it hit me. Cancer. The possibility of breast cancer, the possibility of ME having breast cancer. Tears started to trickle down my cheek. Then as that thought sunk in the tears became actual crying... the technician saw me crying, sat down and asked me what was wrong. All I could get out was "my husband died of cancer" at which point the crying became uncontrollable sobs. My kids. My four beautiful kids who have already been through SO much. NO! This HAS|to be all right... for them. I'm an only parent. I'm crazy busy because I do it all alone. HOW will I be able to do this alone? Brian had me... I have... I have friends, I have family, I even have a boyfriend who loves me, but none of those people live with me. I can honestly say that in that moment I felt very, VERY alone.

I can not put into words the paralyzing fear. Because of my experience, the thought of having cancer is 1000 times worse. The anxiety, sadness, confusion and fear all rolled into a huge lump in my throat and uncontrollable sobs. I was immediately escorted into a nurses office. Her name was Lara, and she was amazing. When they were ready for my ultrasound she walked with me down there, and she stayed outside the door until it was done. The conclusion? Dense tissue that was easier to see because of my recent weight loss. Nothing suspicious. I don't have cancer. But that fear is still hanging on. I know I'm fine, but that FEELING has left me drained. I've ridden this roller coaster before and I don't EVER want to do it again. I went into that room sobbing and came out telling them how I had frozen my butt off driving Tink there and by the time I left I was laughing. Lara walked me out and hugged me goodbye. I'm still reeling, my head hurts, but I'm ok. Thankfully, I'm ok. Now, I just need to get my aforementioned boyfriend to quit smoking so that I never have to recognize November for lung cancer awareness month... oh, and so I can stay OFF of the cancer roller coaster.

This was definitely a sharp turn on my winding path of widowhood. One that I hope never to repeat!

3 - 2 - 1.....

The countdown is on. I can feel "it" coming. The memories from 5 years ago are creeping in, like a dark fog swirling around my legs trying to trip me and take me down. The problem is... it's working. I'm moody and short tempered. I cry at pretty much anything. I'm trying to hold it together, but those memories, the bad ones, are creeping in.

5 years ago was the "beginning of the end" for us. I know that a lot of people saw the end coming loooooong before we did. In fact, at one point someone very close to me said "When Brian dies..." and I corrected him and said "if"... he then said "No honey, it's when at this point". He said it as gently as he could, but even then I didn't believe it. I wasn't ready to give up on hope. I knew if I did that Brian would too, and then it really WOULD be "when".

About 5 years ago Brian fell in our room (I'm sure that in a few short days a "memory" will pop up on Facebook and remind me of the exact date, but at this point I don't remember it, which might be a good thing) he was taken to the hospital in an ambulance... and he never came home again. THAT was OUR beginning of the end. I don't know if I've ever written about that day, the day he fell, the day that is haunting me at the moment. We kept a lot of what was going on at that time very private. Brian's cancer had spread to his brain, and the brain tumors were causing problems, including the loss of the use of his left side. He had a hard time walking, so we finally got a wheelchair for him. The morning he fell he had gotten up and made his way to the bathroom. Shortly after he realized he had to go again. I went and got the wheelchair for him. I told him I would take him to the bathroom and come get him when he was done. He was mad. He was frustrated. He grabbed the arm of that wheelchair and FLUNG himself at it. He missed, and instead he hit the wall, HARD and then the floor. Two things happened at that moment. First, he had a brain bleed, second, he fractured his neck... (come to find out later that he had a tumor in his neck vertebra that had weakened the bone)... and he was in instant, horrible pain. The fear in that moment was unreal. I wasn't ready for him to be gone in an instant. I wasn't ready for him to be gone at all.

It was early morning, the kids were all home. I don't even remember who came over to watch them that day. In the hospital, once he had a room, we were told that if the brain bleed didn't stop he wouldn't make it through the night. There was nothing they could do to stop it, it either stopped on it's own or he died. The bleeding stopped... but, the decline from that moment was hard. 7 weeks. He was in the hospital for 3 weeks, improved to the point where he was transferred to a rehab facility, was there a couple of weeks... had another (worse) brain bleed... went back to the hospital... and then... Hospice. 7 weeks. I don't even know how I made it through those 7 weeks. Our kids were all over the place. I never knew where they would be or who I could ask to take them. I was never home, or so it seemed.

The memory of the day he fell is one of my hardest, most painful memories. To see his anger and frustration and then to be MAD at him (yeah, I said it!) for not being CAREFUL. For not just standing up, getting in the wheelchair and letting me help him. That day haunts me... the "what if" for that moment will forever be in my mind. Would he still be here? No. But would his final weeks have been less painful? His death deferred? Maybe... but I'll never know. That's the black fog swirling around my ankles, the memory of that day. The day that starts the countdown to the day he died... Almost 5. Years. Ago. 

Almost 5 years have gone by, yet, I find that my path through widowhood still has some twists, turns and dark forests... I am still very much winding my way through widowhood...

Pictures....

Yesterday the kids and I tromped through a tree farm to find the perfect Christmas tree. It is the first time we have done this since Brian died.

Last year, one of my my daughters said "We don't have enough pictures of Dad on our tree!" So, being the mom that I am I went out and bought an ornament to put his picture in. Here I am sifting through a drawer full of pictures... a drawer full of memories to find the perfect one. Then it hits me... AGAIN... that there will never again be a chance to take a perfect picture of him. All we have is a drawer full of pictures and the memories in our heads. How I wish I could take those memories and make them into reality.

Reality of a beautiful life. A life gone much too soon. A life that left those of us who love him with nothing more than pictures in a drawer and memories in our heads. I wish I could freeze those memories and print them so we wouldn't forget... because the truth is, memories fade. Brian is part of our "what was" and will never be a part of our "what will be". Pictures help to keep those memories alive, but it is so hard when looking for that "perfect" picture to know that we have a finite amount of them...

Christmas and the holiday season is hard. Though the weight of Brian's absence is never gone, it is especially heavy at this time of year. As our family makes new memories he is here in spirit. Yesterday as we traipsed through the tree farm looking for that perfect tree, I told the kids stories of some of the tree hunts that Brian did together. They laughed at some of them and I hope that I was able to weave a little bit more of Brian into their memories of this Christmas.

As my winding path of widowhood journeyed through the tree farm yesterday and memories of Christmases past, we also created new memories as we found the perfect tree... and on that perfect tree will be a new ornament showing our never ending love for him... long live love...

Angel Day - Year 4....

September 3rd, 2015. It's Angel Day. On this day 4 years ago my family's lives were forever changed when Brian died. He was a great husband, father, son, son-in-law, brother, brother-in-law, uncle, friend, Chiropractor... the world is NOT a better place without him. We miss him and there have been a lot of tears in our home the last few days. I am taking my kids out of school early today and we are going to go to Devils Lake and have a picnic, maybe swim or rent a kayak (I always feel closer to Brian when I'm on the water). We will eat steak sandwiches (one of his favorite foods) and send sky lanterns with messages to Heaven. We will let him know that our love for him is still very much alive.

 This is a day of reflection for me. Ive been thinking about how my life has changed. One of the biggest things that helped me to be where I am right now is Camp Widow. I LOVE Camp Widow! At the most recent Camp, in Michele Neff Hernandez's (founder of Soaring Spirits International) key note address she said some things that really made a difference to me, things that made me think.

"You will not outgrow your widowhood, but you will grow into it."

I HAVE grown into it, in fact, I embrace that it has helped mold me into who I am today. Strong. Independent. Loving. Aware.... Don't get me wrong, I HATE being a widow. I HATE that my husband died. But I don't hate the word widow. To me the word widow says I loved and was loved, I still do, and I still am. I am at a point in my winding path of widowhood that it is time to pay it forward. I am starting a Soaring Spirits Regional Group to help other widowed people to feel the love and support of our widowed community. I never imagined 4 years ago that I could be in a place to to something like this.

 "You have to evolve into what you love about you"

This is a hard one... especially for someone who is widowed. So much of my life was changed when Brian died. From the time I was 17 it was always "Brian and Sheryl" "Sheryl and Brian". After 25 years it is not an easy thing to all of a sudden be just "Sheryl". It has been a process to evolve into who I am at this moment. I continue to evolve. I am proud of who I am. I love who I am. I am (relatively) happy with my life, there is still some tweaking to be done, but I'm getting there!

 "You have the choice to create and craft your future and how you want it to look"

There is no question, my future is significantly different than what Brian and I planned it to be. Our plan was always to get his clinic to a solid stable place and then I was going to be able to do whatever I wanted with my career. It would have been SO much easier to do what I want with him encouraging and supporting me. It would have been easier knowing I had his income to rely on while I created and crafted my dreams. SO many things would be easier if he were here... Creating and crafting my future is, well, TERRIFYING. I have the opportunity to do whatever I want, but along with that opportunity comes the fact that that task is VERY BIG. Most of the time it is still too big for me to even think about. It is scary. I am starting small, and the good thing is that I am finally starting. I know how I want my future to look and I am starting to create that.... I have some ideas... and finally feel like I'm in a place where I can start putting them into motion.

 "I love you so much that I will live for you"

This one is my FAVORITE. You know how people say "I love you so much I would die for you!"? Well, let me tell you... if that happens THEY AREN'T DOING YOU ANY FAVORS! Brian and I used to have the same argument, he'd say "I could die from this!"and I'd say "If you do that means I have to live the rest of my life without you!" I don't think there was ever a winner to this argument, because neither option was good, but I can sure say that living without him has been the most painful experience I have ever had. Instead of the cliché "I would die for you" I am saying "I love you so much that I will LIVE for you!".

I will continue to live my life. I will be happy. I may even find love again someday. I will create and craft my future the way I want it to look. I will continue to evolve into a person that *I* love. I will do all of these things because that is what Brian wanted for me, and... I deserve it. I will live my life in color.

 My winding path of widowhood is no longer as windy, but it is a path that I will forever be on. There are still occasional twists and turns, but most days are filled with sunshine and the days of the deep dark forest are behind me. I will continue to live... because I love him enough to live for him and I love ME enough to live in color!

Widow Rant

Warning... widow rant coming...
Everyone always says that I'm so strong... but I wish I were stronger. Maybe it is because Brian died which threw me into a life I wasn't prepared for, or maybe it is just who I am, but I am so easily hurt. I wish I could just brush it off, but often I can't. I find it hard to trust, but once I do there is no going back and it rocks my world when I feel that the trust has been broken. I miss that feeling of security that my husband provided... I miss knowing that no matter WHAT happened he would always be there. I hate days like this... the ones where all I do is cry and feel completely alone... it's a bad widow day...

Is it over yet?

December 29, 2013... The kids had a good Christmas... I cried.  The kids are enjoying their break... I am curled up in my bed, crying.  New Years Eve is coming... I am dreading it... and crying in advance.  I am apparently back in the throes of grief.  I am missing my life and feeling terribly alone. People like to remind me that I have my kids, they tell me I should focus on them... that they love me, which is true... but the love of my children does not fill the hole in my heart.

The New Year brings the promise of new beginnings... and in the beginning of this year I was deliriously happy with the direction my life was taking... I had a new man in my life and there was instant chemistry, I was once again in love... but as time went on I discovered that he was not what he seemed.  Sadly, he created another hole in my heart... As the new year approaches I am viewing it with dread.  I don't see the promise of new beginnings. I WANT a new beginning... judge me all you want... but this is honesty speaking... I WANT a man in my life.  The RIGHT man.  Brian gave me the gift of a complete love.  He gave me the gift of telling me that he wanted me to be happy after he died,  that it is OK for me to love someone else.  I want that complete love again.  I miss it, and I know full well that new love does not replace the love I have for Brian, but instead adds to the beauty of my life.

Don't get me wrong... I have beauty in my life.  I love my kids to the moon and back.  I have GREAT friends that have listened to my drama over and over and over...  many of whom are widows as well so they GET me.  I have a supportive family that sticks with me through thick and thin.  All of these people in my life are amazing... but they don't fill that hole, and for some reason right now that hole feels deeper and more raw. 

I know from experience that grief is clouding my vision... sooner or later the cloud will lift and I will see the possibilities that 2014 will bring.  For now though I have come to a dark forest on the winding path of widowhood.  I will eventually emerge from the forest and see the beauty and the possibilites... and who knows? Maybe there will be that perfect man standing in the sunlight just waiting for me... ;)

That song....

It has been 18 months since Brian died.  A year and a half....I am amazed at how far I have come and how much I have changed in that amount of time.  I no longer cry all the time and I don't feel "raw" anymore.  I have a wonderful man in my life who loves me and my kids.  I am happy.  Does all of this mean that I am "healed" or that I am no longer grieving?  No.  Even now there are still those moments that make me freeze and bring instant tears to my eyes.  This morning was one of those moments.

I walked into my room and the song playing on the radio was Nicklebacks "Far Away" and that song ALWAYS makes me cry.  The lyrics of this song cut deep and grab my heart. 

Some think that because I have a new love in my life that instances like hearing a song shouldn't affect me the way it does.  I will be the first to tell you that new love does not replace the old, it does not replace the loss.  It is an amazing addition to my life and it is clear that the ability to love another so completely is a natural thing.

New love though does not take away all of the widow moments.  Thankfully I have a man in my life that is not threatened by my love for Brian.  I have a man that holds me through my tears and even cries with me sometimes.  This morning while that song played he held me tight....he loved me through the moment.

Later this afternoon, while I was out and about, another song came on the radio.  This one is also one that grabs my heart, because it is the song that Victor sent to me one day.  It is the song that he says portrays exactly how he feels about me and about us, Jason Mraz "I won't Give Up". 

This time, instead of tears I smiled and I thought about how lucky I am to have had the love of not one, but two wonderful men in my life.  How I am so thankful to have the chance to love and be loved again.  I thought about how while I am and will always be Brian's widow, I now have a new title....Vic's girl...and I love that....