Thursday, February 3, 2011

status update: bruised but not broken

Rob had a mole on his leg, but now it's gone. We found out that the mole was actually cancerous, a melanoma. It was very shallow and small, about the size of a pencil eraser. The surrounding area of skin was also removed and found to be clear. He just had seven stitches removed that closed up the offending area. Thankfully, we're ok. Rob doesn't have cancer. Rob, does not, have, cancer. But he did.
There is nothing that can scare you sober like "cancer" entering your medical records. Since the melanoma scare HAS entered his medical records our plans may be changing. Rob had/has orders to deploy to Kuwait from April to November of this year. Not so much now. He's "not medically eligible for deployment."
You would think I would be jumping for joy he's not going away, however the opposite is true. I am not chomping at the bit to parent our two small adorable yet chaotic children by myself, but it's what we planned. First we danced with cancer, but only for a moment and left unscathed yet shaken. Now we are in limbo. If Rob doesn't deploy, we'll be leaving Athens in April instead of November, and we have no idea where. Not only do I like to pretend we're never going to leave Athens, but I don't like being slapped in the face with the possibility of our impending departure to parts unknown.
2011 has been a one-two punch and left us swaying where we stand. Knowing that we almost had to battle cancer, but won't is not all blessings and gratefulness. I do feel incredibly grateful and lucky this was caught early. I also feel battered and thrown. We didn't have to fight the fight, but we didn't leave emotionally unscathed either. In an instant life became so fragile and an overcast shadow crept in the fabulous bubble my domestic life is here in Athens. A giant unwelcome wake-up call.
I don't know where we're going next or when. I do know I don't want to leave Athens. I joke about it publicly but cry privately almost daily. I will miss how much teaching knitting at Main Street Yarns feeds my soul. I will miss the only home my children have known. I will miss the friendships that make me feel more like me. I'm so lucky to have people that get, love, & appreciate me (and vice verse). I will miss the WOW Bootcamp workouts that make me feel strong and fast and capable of anything. I will miss my life here in Athens and pray every night that God will keep us here.
I'm on an emotional roller coaster waiting to hear if Rob will get a medical waiver and we can proceed as planned. We're still standing though. Life goes on. Grace still goes to preschool and we still go to play-dates and I'm still teaching a few knitting classes. Life is still living while we're waiting to hear where it will take us next.
The good thing is Rob doesn't have cancer, the days I get so frustrated and angry I need to remember this. Rob doesn't have cancer. We won't have to schedule chemotherapy on our calendar alongside well-visits to the pediatrician. We won't have to endure the body damaging side effects of radiation while trying to potty train our kids. Most importantly of all, we could have been facing a battle to keep my husband and the father of my children. But we won't, and we're ok, and I need to remember that.


  1. Wow...I can't imagine the emotional roller coaster you are on right now! Good Luck and just let it roll. It will take you where you need to go. I will be thinking of you and your family! I am looking forward to meeting you next Friday!

  2. Just remember that although we may not know why, or want to go along with it, there is a plan for your life and it all happens for a reason:)