The Raft

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22yrs ago on January 4th I went out on a first date with a strange young man. We went to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. He ordered tortellini soup and I had a salad. I’d find out later he didn’t enough money in his wallet to order anything more than the soup. During dinner he cut his breadstick with a knife and ate it with a fork. After dinner we went to see Titanic. There was an ice storm that night and when we walked outside I burst into my third tearful bawling session bemoaning the loss of those poor souls and how cold they must have been. He smirked and held my hand. That night I told my friend that I was going to marry him against my better judgement. He was so weird. So perfect.

Over the last 22yrs he’s been my soul mate who no longer cuts his bread with a knife and now always has enough money for dinner. He’s just as weird and just as perfect. When he holds my hand the butterflies swoop in and when he smirks he makes my heart smile. Through the years he’s been my life raft. Like Jack was for Rose on that fateful evening.

Yesterday was my treatment day. And the dreaded marker testing day. Treatment kicked my butt but after a good nights sleep I was right as rain.

Markers. Ugh…they have been going up every time we test for months. For those of you new to the cancer game markers are just what they say they are. They are markers for cancer activity. The higher they go the more cancer activity. Think golf. You want a lower score. And I keep fucking hitting my ball into the hazards. At one point my marker was at 20. 20! That’s normal! And now…not so normal. After CT scans and MRIs there is no reason they can see why the numbers are increasing. But they are. So what’s next? TBD.

I called Chris on the way home from getting my numbers and he simply said “Babe, don’t let this ruin your weekend.” And like that my pulse calmed. Walking through the door he calmly pulled me into a hug and let me babble. My raft. My sturdy raft that will continue to hold me afloat. After 22yrs there are nicks, holes and warping. But my God that raft has carried me through my darkest storms and the iciest waters.

Yes my markers are rising. Yes I’m looking down the barrel of chemo yet again. But guess what? On this raft Jack gets to fit on with Rose. Forever and ever.

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