He died.
How could he do that to us? To me?
We were diagnosed about the same time, give or take a day or two, the week before Christmas 2012. I received the news I had breast cancer. He received the news he had lymphoma.
And off we went on our separate paths - me to surgery, surgery, surgery (yes three of them). He was off to chemo and radiation.
And next I hear, he is back to work!! I was so happy for him. Meanwhile I undergo my chemo and radiation.
So mid-July 2013 - we're both finished and in the office. We share stories, we smile, we laugh. Yet all the while we both know, and without saying it out loud, we both know that we feel this same thought: if we got 'it' once, will it return? No guarantees were given that we would not. We were bit once, we could be bitten again. No, we never said this out loud. What you say can come to fruition you know. Our words have SO MUCH power.
I continued to receive positive reports.
He asked me how I got through this? He then pointed at my cross around my neck, and he said I guess you have your faith. I said most definitely I do believe I am healed and restored. He stammered, I suppose looking for words, to let me know that he just never developed 'faith'; but 'my kids have'. I told him that is wonderful.
I received even more positive news.
He did not.
He continued to come into the office, he continued to share. My sixth sense, my female intuition, I don't know what to call it. I somehow knew his cancer had returned. And sure enough he announced it to us, that he would be undergoing a radical treatment, including stem cell surgery, once his body was rid of some nagging enemy that caused his blood to just never be 'right'. And he said he potentially would be out of the office for six months.
He sat two TWO cubicles away from me.
As he shared his news, I prayed. The day came when he was to go into the hospital and he wished me well, wished me happy holidays (this was before Thanksgiving). That sixth sense feeling returned; I prayed. I honestly felt that he was feeling he would not be healed. Just something in the way he looked, his eyes were empty except for a glimpse of pain or sadness or both.
The radical treatments never came, his body just never cooperated.
He's out of the office.
He died.
