Today's the Day!

Well, today's the day.  The day we find out what Greg's treatment options are and here I sit with my limpy limbs -- I had a training session with Ian yesterday, so my arms feel like rubber.  Greg told me to take my limpy limbs to bed!  LOL  So, it's 5 in the morning and I'm unable to sleep.  I was exhausted yesterday because I hardly got any sleep on Sunday because of massive thunderstorms.  My weather radio went off four times!  Here I thought I'd be able to sleep longer, seeing as I didn't have to get up with an alarm, but my body said nope, not happening.  

So many things are running through my head right now, and most of them are not good.  I've mentioned in the past that Easter time scares me because so many bad things have happened at this time of year.  This Thursday, Holy Thursday, marks 25 years since Greg was first diagnosed with cancer.  I'll never forget that day.   I'm not going to rehash it here.  Suffice it to say, I was a terrified young wife, only 25 years old, with a one year old son.   Fast forward to April 12, 2000 (Aaron's 9th birthday, by the way), and we find Greg having a bone marrow transplant.  Tomorrow marks 17 years since his transplant.  The day his brother saved his life.   Since that first diagnosis, we had two miracle babies (chemo usually makes you sterile!), built a house, moved up north, opened and closed our own business, started raising chickens (who'd have thunk it!), and best of all, found new life in Jesus!   

Now, almost 17 years to the day of his transplant, we are heading to the Oncologist office to find out how we are going to battle esophageal cancer.   Greg is back to his usual (cancer fighting) self.  Let's get this going!  Whatever needs to be done, he does, usually with a smile while I'm the one cringing.  It's a little different this time, because my girls are older.  They were too young 17 years ago to really understand how horrific that time in our lives was and how scared I really was.  Now, they are adults, and they are scared.   While they were used to health issues with Greg, that was just his heart.  I know that sounds callous, but when you have congestive heart failure, your family learns how to deal with frequent hospitalizations.  This is different.  I'm not sure how Aaron is feeling about this.  He was 9 when Greg had his transplant.  I know he remembers a lot of what happened.   I just don't know how he's feeling about all this.  To be honest, I'm scared, too.  Who wouldn't be?  We try to be tough and say, well, this is our third time dealing with cancer, we're used to it.  But you know what, we're NOT used to it.  No one EVER "gets used to it."   

So, here I am rambling at 5 a.m., just waiting for time to pass before our appointment at noon.