Survival: A Cancer Widow's Story

 Grief is defined as " deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death (noun)." What they don't tell you is how fickle grief can be. With my first post, I shared the moment we learned Rob had cancer.  When I internally screamed at the world to make time stop.  That was fear, but it was also grief.  Throughout the journey of cancer, I had the oddest reactions of grief at the seemingly most random times. I slammed a cup full of coffee down on the table beside the couch, permanently staining the lampshade when Rob was trying to discuss what I needed to do if/when he died.  I had, and still have, moments out of nowhere where I want to throw something against the wall and break it because of the anger from how unfair life is.   As for crying, I rarely broke down which was in stark contrast to when my dad was sick and I cried constantly. I remember wondering why I didn't cry a lot, but I remembered Rob telling me not to let my dad see me cry, so I guess I ...

 My name is Jamie and my wonderful husband passed away on December 27th, 2020.  Before I jump ahead to the present, I want to take a few initial posts to tell our story of dealing with cancer from the beginning.  Let me rewind back to June 2020 and the very first sign that anything  was wrong with him. It was right after Father's Day 2020, when he started having pain.  The day before, he had spent three hours doing yard work.  So when he started having pain in the left side of his lower back, shooting down his leg, it didn't raise huge red flags.  After 3 days, and the pain getting worse, he finally went to the doctor.  Again, we expected a pulled muscle, sciatica or, worst case scenario, a bulging disc.  The doctor suspected the same and wanted to rule out anything major so he was sent for an MRI. Fast forward, a few days or maybe a week, the MRI showed a mass in his sacrum.  My heart stopped.  A mass?  On my loud, obnoxious, ...