About three months ago, I turned to Mr TC in bed and said "I have this feeling that something really bad is going to happen." He told me to stop it, I always think that, blah blah ... and shrugged it off. But I still had this distinct feeling of impending doom ...
About two months ago, I looked at Mr TC and suddenly realised I had more strength than him. I didn't say anything, I thought it was because my body was preparing for birth so women must automatically get really strong. (Emotionally and spiritually strong too, not just physically) ...
Not long after that, one morning Mr TC was clutching his tummy. "Hon, what side is your appendix on?" I told him not that side, the other one. "Oh, cool. Maybe I just over-ate. I feel really bloated. " Cue weeks of his tummy pains getting worse. I started to worry - and worry. I knew it was bad. I was freaking out, Mr TC just thought it was a hernia. He got an ultrasound - they found nothing. He got an x-ray, full body check-up ... nothing.
On Mothers Day, I woke up to him limping around the table, setting it for the pancakes he was going to make, then he was going to go to the ER at hospital. I told him to just go there straight away, don't worry about the pancakes. He was gone a few hours. For MONTHS I had been looking forwad to that Mothers Day, because I knew I was going to be so pregnant. He came home, had antiobiotics for the bowel infection they thought he had.
The pain got worse and worse - he couldn't eat or sleep. I was beside myself with worry. I also remember saying to him, half-joking "Come on hon! I'm about to have a baby! I need you to be strong!" He finally got cranky at his doctor, said "I'm not making this pain up, you know!" So she sent him along to get a CT scan in his intestines, he had to drink some weird stuff first. He called me before he went in, I said "Well, I hope they don't find a black mass!!" He laughed - "Oh, hon. Of course you would think there is a black mass in there. It wouldn't be a gold coin, now would it!" (We are opposites - I am the glass half empty, while his always overfloweth).
By this stage, I had both of my sisters concerned too. Exactly one month ago today, I was on the phone to my sister Rex. I saw Mr TCs ute drive up "Oh, he's home!" She told me to ring her back later. I went downstairs, he's standing in the kitchen with a look on his face that I had never seen.
"So, they found something."
I knew it I knew it I knew it oh my God oh my God oh my God - I realised I must have the best poker face, because I was so calm, I didn't want him to see me upset. I braced myself.
My big tough tattooed husband sat down at the kitchen table and started to cry. "I've got an appointment at the cancer clinic."
At that point, a new, different version of myself took over my body. "Ok. Shit. So I'll come with you, I'll get Tiger picked up from school. What time is your appointment? Don't worry mate, we'll deal with this together. At least they finally found the fucking problem."
I rang Rex and told her it was bad news, we'd know more that afternoon. Tee rang me 2 seconds after."Good news travels fast!" She seemed a tad confused at my cheery demeanor. The REAL Topcat was in a tailspin so tight she couldn't breathe. The fake, composed Topcat made phonecalls, comforted hubbie, organised things, started making lists.
It's funny how slowly it dawned on us. I looked at the referral we were taking down. "Lymphoma!? Isn't that cancer?"
"Nah, hon. Lymphoma just means all your lymph nodes, doesn't it?"
We were surprised as the boom gate magically opened up at the cancer clinic. Mr TC suddenly lit up. "Free parking!!"
He was excited, I was horrified. I almost corrected him. "Free SYMPATHY parking. For the CANCER patients." But I didn't.
Sitting next to Mr TC as the doctor spoke of hospital and chemotherapy, I dug my fingernails so deeply into my leg, to stop myself from crying. It didn't work, the tears flowed and rolled freely down my cheeks. The doctor handed me the tissue box. "OF COURSE you have a box of tissues in here," I thought hatefully. "Because this is the room where you tell people THEY HAVE CANCER." Cheerily, I wiped away my tears. "Sorry! Just a little bit pregnant, I guess!"
The doctor said they had found a 6.7cm 'mass' at the front of Mr TCs stomach, which had been causing all of his pain. There was likely to be more in there. I asked him if it was malignant. He turned to me, and slowly spoke. "What do you mean by "malignant?"
It was then that I realised, that it was all malignant. I couldn't believe I had been right - they had, indeed, found a black mass. I apologised to Mr TC days later, for being right. He laughed, said what - did I put it in there? (Did I? Did my negative thoughts create this?)
Strangely, the first thing I did when we walked out of the doctors surgery, was to step up on some scales that were there, to weigh myself. Then Mr TC did, too. The doctor came out and saw us, mucking around, joking and laughing. Mr TC apologised, said we just wanted to know how much we weighed. The doctor looked at us with compassion, nodded, then walked off. We felt like a couple of bumbling teenage idiots.
Then we drove home in the darkness. I wondered, if I was given the choice - to either give my baby up or have a healthy husband .... what would I choose? I couldn't decide.
I don't know how this is going to play out. We are all hoping, wishing, and praying for a happy ending. I know when I think things like "You fucking idiot! How could you be growing tumours in your stomach, the same time I was growing a baby! That's just ridiculous! Who does that?!" ..... I know when I think things like that, I don't actually MEAN them. I love my husband more than any man I have ever, ever met. The only man I have never cheated on, the only man who made a home for himself in my heart. We are so good together. I simply adore the motherfucker. I have told him my worst, darkest secrets. (They are pretty bad). He just shrugs "Is that all you got?"
The timing of it all is just so incredible. I am still so, so cranky at God, Universe, whoever the fuck is in charge. I feel ripped off, it's not fair, poor me - and then realise that worse things could have happened. Mr TC didn't die in a car crash. We have a chance that he can get rid of this. (Don't we?) I worry about my dreams, they are out of control.
Trying so hard to enjoy the baby. I'm frantically looking for signs in everything. Then realise .... maybe Monkey is the biggest sign of all. To just hang on and have faith, that all will be well.