If you're reading this hoping for some type of great writing advice or maybe great news about my fledgling career... well I'm going to disappoint you. This is mostly about personal thoughts and feelings I have to get out before my head explodes.
So my wife had a mammogram awhile back and they found something. We don't know anything yet, more tests have to be done.
That doesn't really sound dramatic I guess but if it is cancer this will be our third fight with cancer. It almost feels like at this point we get to bitch slap cancer and call it our bitch. Maybe look death in the eye and tell him to blow me.
At the same time I have to wonder... how many times can we win this fight? If we lose can I be a single parent? How can I take care of my kids without her?
I'm an over thinker, I'm a worrier, and a bit pessimistic. How's that for getting to know you're soon to be favorite author? So it's a bit of a given that I think about her death. That I think about being a widower in my 30s.
The thing is I feel helpless, like I'm just a passenger on this train and sometimes I'd like to punch the conductor in the throat. Of course I also know that with her other health issues one day widower will become my marriage status... I'd just rather have that be when I'm old, our kids are grown, and hopefully shortly before I'm ready to shuffle off this mortal coil.
I'm not a great husband, but I try my best. Our life isn't wonderful but I like to think we're mostly happy. I'm not a great human being but I try to be as good as I can and I hope to leave the world a better place than I found it... so why does this shit keep happening?
I don't know. I guess we'll keep going. I'll keep pursuing my writing career and just hoping for the best. Fingers crossed this is just a scare. Thanks for reading my ramble.
