A Disconcerting Week

This week I learned something that I had not known.  I wasn't being nosey, but I came across an email that Joe had sent back in February of 2012 that contained some information of which I was unaware.   I still check Joe's email and Facebook on a regular basis.  I haven't quite been able to bring myself to delete either.  Since it isn't costing anything, why do it, right?  Exactly!   Anyway, last week there was an email on Joe's account from a college friend of his who was trying to contact me.  She didn't have my email and took a chance that I might be still checking his.   Of course, she was right.  She just wanted to touch base with me and see how I was doing.   It was a very sweet and caring gesture.   The email she sent was in response to a string of correspondence between her and Joe going back to 2010.   Therefore, all the previous emails were there.   Not in an effort to be nosey, but just because they were Joe's words, I started reading the correspondence back and forth.  They only corresponded sporadically so there would be a month of two in between emails.   That was when I saw the one from February of 2012.  The friend from UNC-G, who is a cancer survivor, had commented on making it to a landmark of time without a recurrence of her cancer and Joe responded with "after my surgery when they couldn't remove the tumor, the doctor told me I would have only about four months to live.   It's been 12 months and I'm still here."

I was never aware of any doctor giving Joe a time period of life expectancy.   What must he have been feeling with that knowledge?  I'm sure that when he responded so well to his chemo treatments for over a year, it must have been a big relief.   We were both so thrilled that he responded so well for so long.   But I didn't know he was ever told that.  I don't even know which doctor said it.  Was it the surgeon while he was still in the hospital?  Was it Dr. Zafar?   If so, did Joe ask him not to mention anything to me?  I know why he would not have wanted me to know.  He loved me.  It would have caused me even more worry....if that is humanly possible.  I'm not mad at him for not telling me, but I wish I had known.   It has just made me so sad this week.  We shared the whole journey, but he carried this burden alone.   I don't know exactly how I am feeling.  Maybe I feel hurt that he didn't share.   But I know why he didn't.   He did it to protect me.  He didn't say anything in an effort to save me more anxiety.  He did it out of love.  Only now he is gone and I can't comfort him.   I can't help him.  I can't do what I was supposed to do.  All I can do is miss him and cry.

But I can do something for others.   For people dealing with cancer.  Be they patients, caregivers, family or friends.  That is why the Relay For Life is so important.  Only through fundraising for research can we one day hope to eradicate this disease in all it's many forms.  No one should have to deal with this.   Children like Paxton should not have to go through chemotherapy.  Young families like Kaitlan & Brian should be enjoying their children rather than watching one of them suffer.   Caroline and so many others, including me, should not still grieve for the loss of a parent.  I shouldn't have sleepless nights thinking about what could have been.  But this is all of our realities.  This is where we are.  To move forward and help others, we need as many people as possible to join our Relay for Life team, or make a donation if possible.  If you can, click the link below to donate now.  I know this sounds like a broken record, but it is that important to me so I will keep asking......and asking.  I will think of my Joe and ask again.

DONATE TO RELAY FOR LIFE