Dennis insists that he's been cancer-free since 1985. But cancer is an asshole like that. It doesn't care if you've got a family, if you want to live to see them grow up, if you love your life, if you want to live. Cancer is sneaky. It hides for a few years until you feel that you're finally safe and that nothing can hurt you again, that your suffering is over and you'll never have to protect yourself again.
We met up at a cafe to talk. I told him what had happened between his friend and I, and that I would be staying with one of my friends until our house guest left. Our guest is insistant on staying until the portraits and filming is ready for editing. I just can't stomach living with him anymore. Dennis told me that he had no idea that I felt that way, and said he was going to put our guest up in a hotel for the remaining time that he is here. I smiled at the thought. Going home. It's really what I want to do. The conversation turned to the lumps I had felt, and what it could possibly mean. Dennis is certain the lumps are just some gland swelling. I told him that I hoped he was right.
Of all the things I left unsaid in the conversation, on thing I was able to say through the lump in my throat, through the tingling in my nose, through the watery eyes, was that I couldn't do it alone. I couldn't keep our family together alone. Dennis said I have done some amazing jobs while he's on the road, but that is different. If he were to never be coming back, and I knew this for certain, I couldn't do it. I couldn't go on. I would disintegrate in the bedroom, surrounded by my own sense of self-worthlessness. When we said our vows, I took in sickness and in health to heart. For years, Dennis has been there for me while I was sick, and I am not going to abandon him now, but the death do us part is not something I assumed I would ever have to face. Damn my situation and the thoughts racing through my head. With all the things going through my mind, I have to force myself to not think about this.
We have a doctor appointment set for the 25th. I wonder if our family doctor could pick a later date? After all, time is what feeds cancer. Time is what gives it its power. Time is what a patient does not have enough of.But maybe everything will be alright, and I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill. After all, my harasser says that I like to dramatise my life to make people feel sorry for me. Of course I do. That's why I don't openly ask for money on my site, or steal photos of gorgeous women, like she does. One thing that amuses me - my harasser has a "dying woman" site online that I have yet to publicly post. I know she's not the person in the photos, since she never posts her real image on her SEND ME MONEY! scam sites, but I need to find the identity of the woman in the photos before I comment on it publicly. If anyone can help, my email address is right over there.Back to my situation.
I have faith. I have faith that Dennis will be okay, that this is just a plugged gland, or a series of pimples, boils, I'd even go for MRSA colonies at this point, because those are all things he can survive from, relatively painlessly.I have hope. I have hope that I won't be left alone to face the world without the one who loves me, that I won't have to find someone else, not that I ever could, and hope that our children won't have to face the world without their father, whom they all love very much. Especially Chloe. She loves her daddy more than anyone else, and she'd do anything for him.
On top of that, I have fear. I can hope and pray for the best, but fear the worst. Fear normally prepares me for the worst and gets me through it. There is no getting over what I am about to embark on, if the worst should happen. There is no consoling my heart if the worst is my fate. There is no hope for me, if my world should come crashing down. There is just fear, pain and emptiness. Three things I don't want to spend the rest of my life going through.