They called and said it was an appendicitis. Ok. No big deal. I'll be there in a few. I get to the hospital and there she is; my brunette love. Joking, laughing, already made friends with half of the staff. They say the scans look funny, but we'll see when we get in there to take out the appendix. I wait in the room anxiously, but thinking the whole time, it's just some abnormality-nothing big. The GYN walks in and doesn't dance around it. Cancer. My girl. Not supposed to be this way. They say it is all in her belly, sticking to everything. She has some family history, but we weren't expecting this. They say it came from her appendix. Kinda' rare, but we caught a good diagnosis quickly. As I hold it all in(you know, tough guy and all) I can't help but think I don't anything about prom dresses, bras, tampons, girl issues, you know? Three little girls. What in the hell am I supposed to do? I am a problem solver. That's the sum of my life. I fix people's problems. At their worst, my crew and I are at our best. People are running out, we're running in. Well, solve this one. Can't do it. I go downstairs and kneel in the chapel and beg, and beg, and beg. Please take me instead. Do what you will; I don't care. Just don't take her from this world and our babies. Please. Please.
A week later a little hope. There is a treatment for this but it's rare and very different than any other cancer treatment. We're hoping for the best. A month of surgery and recovery, away from home, away from the girls. Loss of an income. A new house. We had just got a little breathing room. Well, the hell with that, I guess. I've never been given anything in this life. Ever. I've worked hard as long as I can remember, so, why not a little more. But, it's time we didn't have. So heap it on. I'll strap the weight to my shoulders and carry it as far as I can. I've seen what the life has done to my Dad's health, but if that's the deal than so be it. I love her. I love her so.
I've cried more in the past two weeks than all my life combined. Now...well, just looking at her laughing with the girls does it. I leave the room a lot. I spend time in the barn for made up projects. Just hold it together I tell myself. You're the linch pin. All of it is on you. Not sure how this is all going to shake loose but for now...well, we're hanging on.