Finally

It finally happened. I was heating up a mug of potato soup for a bedtime snack and I completely lost it. I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor beside Tyler, this kitchen I’ve loved so much for two years, a kitchen that in a lot of ways has come to define me, held me during my pregnancy and shaped my life as a new mother, and now it is determining who I will be as a cancer patient – I finally collapsed, hyperventilating on tears, weeping about the losses cancer has already brought and will continue to pour down onto our family. I abhor it.

Sabine, that soup is my new favorite food. I barely know you but the sustenance, love, and shelter you’ve brought into our world is worth more than any words can express.

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10 comments
  1. Caylin said:

    Oh, I love you. I’m sending you so many hugs!

  2. Susan Morse said:

    Ahhhhh, yes, there is a point when the stress, the fear, the frustration all builds to an emotional meltdown of tears. Mine came in a restaurant. The pathology report from the second surgery indicated I needed a third and more aggressive one. I could thus skip radiation treatments but had bought four months of chemo. I had just come from my first appointment with my oncologist where she laid out her suggested treatment plan. My husband and I had a tour of the chemo treatment rooms and met the staff. The oncology group had recently moved into this brand new, gorgeous and comfortable facility.
    Being late in the afternoon and coping with the new layer information, we decided to stop at a nearby deli restaurant, for an early dinner. After the food was served, I realized I had no appetite at all. I burst into tears saying, “Those patients in the Chemo Room didn’t seem very happy.” Part of my brain knew how obtuse that sounded and the other part of my brain finally acknowledged I was scared to be on what seemed like a run away train, speeding down the tracts to an unknown destination. I remember the poor waiter coming by wondering if there was some problem with my food. My husband tactfully handled both of us. Many times I have thought about that episode and shake my head with awe. It would be the first of several times I was blindsided by a phenomena of the cancer odyssey. (This was in Spring of 2004.)

  3. Karen said:

    Oh Hunny I am so sorry you’re going through this.

  4. :( Hi Jaime. All these folks and I are hearing you and wishing all this wasn’t happening to you. Thanks for updating even during horrible times.

  5. Tiina said:

    Oh love, I wish I could magically appear and give you hugs. And like Jasper wrote — thank you for writing. Love you.

  6. breecandiloro said:

    Zoe, Ryder, Jordan, and I are wrapping our big and little arms around you in a giant hug.

  7. Well, it happened and you are still doing okay, which is sometimes a better place than being okay as long as its not happening. Does that make any sense? Lots of love to you, strong woman.

  8. Jeff said:

    There isn’t a day that goes by that Wendy and I don’t think about you in all the best ways possible. Jeff

  9. Peggy Casper said:

    Dearest Jaime, You could not have chosen a better favorite place to let go. Warming soup, a true partner, and a space imprinted with who you are. Now your kitchen is also full of lots loving arms to hold you.

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