ONE THING GINA had decided in this time was that we were going to need a little bit of help around the house with the kids. We settled on bringing Gina’s mother in from Puerto Rico to help out. She was planning a trip to the States in the near future anyhow with Gina’s sister so when this all fell in our lap, she changed her timing to be here for the surgery. For our sake, it was someone that we trusted with the kids. For the kids, it was a good chance to spend some time with their Grandma, which was something they didn’t get much of a chance to do. So we flew her up and settled her into the guest room.
The night before the mastectomy, I was very out of sorts. It was like the night before a big game or something. I was both nervous and anxious all at the same time; it really felt like we were going into battle.
Throughout this whole process, any sexual intimacy had pretty much flown right out the window. There was a lot of stress and we were both continually exhausted, but to be 100% honest, I was the reason for much of it. I knew she was so concerned with what was going on with her internally, I felt hesitant. I felt like any attempts by me to focus on her physical body would cause her to dwell on the fact that her breast would soon be gone. It felt kind of like when you are trying to soak up the last few moments of a vacation. Even though you’re having a wonderful time, there’s that very present awareness that this is your last night with it.
Besides, I had so many other things going on in my head that sex was the farthest thing from my mind. I had a ton of fears, mixed with a good share of panic about what lay ahead. In my mind, I was always walking three steps ahead of where we were, but that’s hard to do when you have no idea what the next step is. I didn’t know if she was going to need chemo or radiation after this surgery, but what if she did? Were we going to need help around the house? Will I need to take time off? Luckily we were financially in a position to where those things were possible, but work isn’t just income for me, it’s a huge part of my personal being. It’s my sustaining wheel. Not to mention I’m in sales and in my business, if you step out of the circle for a prolonged amount of time someone can and will slide in and form a new relationship with your client. One thing leads to another and then poof, all of a sudden you’re competing for or maybe even losing a long-term client’s business.
Again, I didn’t share this with Gina. My job was to support her and give her some pep, which I did. I tried to liven that night before surgery with jokes and stuff like that. I tried to keep things light and normal. Was this the smartest thing to do? Who’s to say? Every situation is different but for ours, I think I made the right decision. Lord knows I didn’t always make the right decision and we’ll get into those a little later.
However, the morning of the surgery was a different story altogether. I was able to sleep through the night but from the minute I woke up, I was a bundle of nerves. I remember glancing at her in bed, and she had this look about her. She looked so sullen about losing her breast and that killed me. I had no idea what to do or what to say. I remember thinking that it didn’t matter to me one bit that she was losing her breast because that wasn’t how I saw her. I was just happy that she was there and I felt overwhelmed by my love for her. I told her of this love as I hugged her, and while I know she believed me, I’m also pretty sure she didn’t hear a word I said. She probably just chalked it up to me trying to comfort her.
She was quiet in the car and that drove me nuts. I don’t know what I expected her to say and I can’t say I would be different if the roles were reversed, but I felt the need to lighten the mood. Thank God for my sense of humor because that probably helped us both. I kept joking all the way until they made me leave her. I’m sure they weren’t always funny jokes but again, it was my defense mechanism taking over. When we checked in, they took us to her room and informed me they would allow me to stay with her all the way up until the nurses came to take her into surgery. I watched her change out of her clothes into her hospital garb and it made me sad.
It’s funny, you never really talk to God until you are either asking for forgiveness for something you did and simultaneously swearing that you’ll never do it again, or you’re asking Him to take care of someone or something for you. That said, I said a little prayer to myself, which I’m sure is something that everyone does at this point.
I kept trying to lighten the mood with jokes, which were probably as much for me as they were for her, with neither of us paying much attention to what I was saying. I was just kind of filling the empty air with noise at that point. It wasn’t long until they came and got her, which I was thankful for. When you’re sitting there waiting for something like that, minutes feel like days. I kissed and hugged her as they wheeled her away. I’ll tell you one thing, there are few things that make you feel more helpless than watching someone you love disappear down a hospital hallway. I felt complete surrender and that’s a feeling that throughout this journey, you have to learn to deal with. Trust me when I say that as hard as you try, it’s never really possible. You never get to be okay with it.
And thus, my wait began. I was there alone as nobody came with me to the hospital. I didn’t want anyone there because I felt like that would only complicate things for me. I would either feel the need to talk in order to keep the silence out, or I would just want to sit there and their conversation would annoy the shit out of me. So I sat there alone and soon enough, I slipped into my comfort zone. Instead of leafing through the magazines or staring at the TV, I did what I always do to escape. I went to work. I didn’t actually go to the office but I checked in and made a few phone calls. I’m sure on the outside anyone who saw me walk in with my wife and then heard me on the phone talking about some client’s order probably thought I was the biggest jackass on the planet, but that’s what worked for me. I can bottle anxiety with the best of them and still when it comes to work, I’m able to focus like Michael Jordan on a jump shot.
As you can imagine, it was an excruciatingly long morning. Hours felt like days and all the while, I stayed in contact with my family. They were all concerned and wanted to know what was going on. Finally, the surgery was over and the surgeon came in to talk to me. He pulled me into a room and started to talk. I was so anxious just by the very sight of him I almost had to turn my mind off just so I could listen to what he had to say.
He got right to the point and I was incredibly cognizant of every word that came out of his mouth. He told me he successfully removed 24 lymph nodes and her breast. His initial thought was that things looked pretty good and he was very encouraged that it had not metastasized, but he was going to need to see the biopsies before he could make any real concrete assessments. Hearing that was a real sense of relief. The painful thing was that the results were going to take two to three days. Normally, that’s not a long time at all, but when you’re waiting on a report card like this, that sounds like an eternity and it feels like even longer.
At this point Gina was still in recovery, so I was still waiting to see her. The doctor hadn’t spoken to her yet as she was in and out of lucidness from the anesthesia. I was so excited with the news and since I had some time, I got on the phone right away. All of a sudden, the glass was half full again. Things were back on the upswing. After I made my calls, I almost found myself skipping down the hall. I know, sounds kind of corny, but that’s how happy I felt.
All that happiness was shot to hell when I finally saw Gina. She was still under some sedation and I watched them move her from the gurney to a bed. My God, the pain! That was such a tough sight to see. I actually felt her pain just by watching. I felt horrible for her. Cautiously I told her the good news and then left her to rest. The happiness was dulled by her excruciating pain. This was another one of those moments where you feel incredibly helpless. Here I had what I thought was the greatest news we could possibly hope for and even that wasn’t going to take the pain away for her. I walked out of the room and instead of feeling the elation that I did only a few moments before, I was consumed with an odd combination of exhaustion, optimism, and anger. The exhaustion is self-explanatory, as is the optimism, but I was so full of anger that she was in such pain.
We had gone in early in the morning but it was late afternoon when I plopped my butt in the car. It was a tough ride home but I was looking forward to seeing the kids and just wrapping my arms around them. I picked up dinner on the way home, ate with them, and then put them to bed. It was just me and the girls, as Jackson was staying overnight at a friend’s house. I called the hospital and checked in on Gina, but she was pretty out of it. She was on some serious pain meds, so we’ll call it a less than spectacular conversation. It didn’t matter though. As far as I was concerned, the sun was shining on our asses again. All we had to do now was wait for the doc to call us in a few days with the news that we were clear and our world would be normal again.