The surgeon from the ER is straight and practical about telling us what we face.
John wasn’t having a stroke.
I learn new words. Glioblastoma multiform, grade 4.
His brain cancer surgery is scheduled for this Friday morning.
It hurts so bad right now.
I tried to sleep some. But can’t sleep long.
I’ve had about 5.5 hours of sleep in 3 days.
One of our retired law-enforcement friends says it’s the adrenaline. And that it will run out.
And I know this.
I’m not trying to stay awake. I’m just stuck there.
I’m still in shock.
I still want to wake up.
John’s my rock. And he’s in grave danger.
With everything I believe about energy and faith. I don’t know how to be right now.
I have to balance between being positive and being ready.
And there’s no peace in any of it.
There’s so much work to do. So many legal and financial things.
Things I have no idea how to begin.
Why do we do this? Why do we make the system so painful?
It’s been almost 10 years since John came home from his last overseas deployment.
It was just in time, because I was falling apart.
I was afraid to be alone, because of my emotional state.
The gaping hole that simply his absence created in me.
I was not afraid for his life. He’s the most capable man I know.
It was the whole feeling of him being disconnected from me.
Not being able to pick up the phone. Not knowing where he was.
Always waiting for a call in the middle of the night. Maybe.
And I carried a gaping, oozing wound with me everywhere.
No matter how ok I was, I wasn’t. Because my life was constantly seeping from me.
My other half was gone, and the hole in my side would not close.
People were sometimes bewildered as to why I was so deeply affected in that way.
So was I. It was so horrible. Long deployments are not kind.
And until that time, I had no idea how tied together John and I are.
Tough, down to earth people. We’ve faced so much hardship together.
Things most people never face. And never will.
All my greatest fears of losing this wonderful family of mine were faced back then.
And then John went through it with me 2.5 years ago when I developed a blood clot from my ankle surgery.
And he fell apart having to face his fear of me dying. Because his adopted sister died of a blood clot.
And now, I wonder if it was all to help prepare me/us instead. Like did God plan this all along.
And I don’t want that to take hold in me, because I don’t want to somehow manifest something I don’t wish.
I have poured out my soul in this.
I put a general announcement out to the worlds we’ve been a part of. College, the Texas Guard, my spiritual groups, my crochet friends.
John’s name has been added to many prayer lists at churches around the world, thanks to connections we’ve gathered over time.
And I hope for many more.
Hundreds of people are praying and sending Reiki and doing energy work on him right now. On us.
I know I’m alive because of prayer and positive will from communities and friends.
I know I’ve experienced many miracles.
But the only thing so dark as this that I’ve ever experienced before was nearly losing my son in the womb.
Those 8-9 weeks we didn’t know if our son would live or die.
The night I hemorrhaged, and prepared myself to lose my baby, I suddenly heard a voice that guided me then.
“Mommy, don’t give up on me.”
It was clear as day, out of nowhere.
One of the most profoundly spiritual things I’ve ever experienced.
From that point on, no matter how much doctors told me that I wasn’t facing reality and needed to prepare….
I knew my unborn son was alive.
It carried me through the face of so much medical disbelief.
I so desperately want to hear a voice right now.