For those of you who read my YOLO post and watched the video from my “I kicked cancer’s ass” party, you know that I was overwhelmed in the moment and didn’t get out all the proper thank you’s that I wanted to get out.
I really did Paul, my husband, a disservice in my speech. It seems like I just wrote him off when I quickly patted his arm and said “I just want to thank all of you in this room, and, of course, my husband.” And that’s all I said about him!
I didn’t go into any detail because I would’ve broken down and sobbed during the party — which is no fun at all!
So, if I could rewind time and guarantee that I wouldn’t have cried, here’s what I would have said to my beloved:
Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I can’t hug you hard enough or stretch my arms wide enough to let you know how much I love and appreciate you. Everything you have done for me since 10.11.12. Everything. Nothing has gone unnoticed. I know you’re tired and suffering in your own way. I know that this has not been an easy ride for you either. I know you would have traded places with me in a second if you could have — to spare me. But you couldn’t — so you gave me the strength to face this head on instead. You bolstered me. You stood by my side each and every day. You saw the worst of the worst. The days that I don’t blog about. The ugly days, the days when I cried a lot, the days when I couldn’t get out of bed. The days when you had to help me shower and dry me off because I had JP drains hanging from my body. The days when I barfed, had GI issues, barfed some more and then cried some more. The days when tears just feel out of my eyes because I was in so much pain, I was inconsolable. But you held me and loved me and cared for me.
You tucked me into bed every single night and listened to my laundry list of bodily aches, pains and general complaints. You served as nurse and doctor to me in those moments. Just letting me verbally express the pain I was in, while also determining if anything more should be done (ie. administer pain meds, fire up the volcano, call Dr. Smith, go to the ER). You brought me gatorade and made me chicken soup. You tolerated the hobo pajama outfits I threw together for 8 months straight. You went to every single doctor appointment with me. You sat at my side through chemo, even when I was fast asleep. You kept your calm when I was yelling and acting out from the injustice and pain of this journey. You found ways to make me laugh. You tell me I am beautiful every single day. You continued to entertain me, make me laugh and love me for me. You let me be me. You let me feel what I felt and didn’t try to tell me how to feel. You listened and you helped. You took care of Lucy and our house when I couldn’t. You took care of me when I couldn’t. You tried to make life as normal and as comfortable for me as possible. You didn’t judge me when I laid in bed for days upon days. You celebrated me when I got out of bed and ran a few errands. You burned the candle at both ends between work and caring for me. You put me first and yourself second — for that, I can’t thank you enough. I love you so much. I am so grateful you are my partner in crime.
I love you Paul. Thank you. Our journey isn’t quite over yet, but I’m seeing glimmers of my old self again. I hope with each passing day to become stronger so that we can live and enjoy life again. Becuase there’s nothing more that I want than that. To live and enjoy life with you.