People have told me a lot that I am strong.They have commented how strong I am to deal with everything,and keep on.Truth is.. I am just surviving.I am not strong.What I am is brave.You have to be brave to face the horrific fear everyday.Brave to worry that each night when you go to bed you face a middle of the night emergency room visit.Brave to stand beside your husbands bedside when they tell you that he has developed a blood infection in the hospital,and it is crucial that the antibiotics start working immediately.Brave when your daughter needs to get a new car,and you just have nothing left to help her,and must rely on others to do what you typically have done.Brave when you have to pay your bills,his bills,talk to the disability company,take care of him all on a couple hours sleep over a period of several days.
My dad drove up to help me a week or so into Mikes latest hospital stay. The night he got here,he drove me home from the hospital. I had been surviving on a couple hours sleep over the week or so Mike had been in. I was seeing things in the road,it could have been my daddios driving…and I remember the feeling of gratitude I felt overwhelmed with.Gratitude that my dad came to help me.Gratitude that both my parents are still alive.You learn to be grateful for the little things when you have a loved one with cancer.