Four years ago, a Tuesday, I got home from an early-morning (9am) doctor appointment. It was partly a pre-natal visit. Life was pregnant with possibility.
After I came home and reported on my visit, Roscivs said I need to go to the doctor, too. He called his doctor. I heard him tell her I've been coughing up blood.
We got nine months of cancer treatment and a death. It looked a lot like this. Our first cancer picture, though, was Roscivs holding a pee-stick pregnancy test positively indicating elevated hCG — only it was his pee, not mine.
Nine months of that, and no baby for us.
Today is a Sunday. I am excited to clean the two bathrooms in my new home. I am okay. I want to be alive.
This post makes me sad and happy at the same time. Sad for the past and happy for the future. Love you.
ReplyDeletedearest janie.
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