I'm a little teapot. What? What?

“I've had some time to think about IT
And watch the sun sink like a stone
I've had some time to think about you
On the long ride home...”
-Long Ride Home

“Things can move at such a pace
The second hand just waved goodbye.”
-Let Him Fly

Patty Griffin just seems to pop into our minds on a day like today. Close call? Coulda been IT? HOLY SHIT? I did think these lyrics at many times over the last of these HELLISH 9 months. When you hear those FUCKING stupid words: CANCER. STAGE. THREE. I immediately pictured myself in black (painfully stylish though trying to look too grief-stricken to care.) Jackie O. Yes.

GDMF. It’s been a LONG STRANGE TRIP. And today when we got up for the early call of the surgeon, it felt like deja vu. Our hearts racing in fear of waking up late. But been there done that. So up we got. At 5am. Showered. Dressed. Then girls. Complaining. “I’m exhausted.” (Yea. Me too sister.) Purse Girl at the ready (along with TRPL TRBL and Tabby Cat if needed). We are SO freaking blessed. And I don’t really mean that in a JESUS way. I mean it more in a UNIVERSE HAS BEEN EXCEPTIONALLY KIND TO US kind of way. (Though I’m sure that all of my many, many friends praying to Jesus has helped too.)

Today was the day. The day that I could officially stop wallowing and start to truly look forward. But, DAMN, if it didn’t feel almost the same. The palpitations. The same ride to Lutheran in Wheat Ridge. But instead of all of those side-head-tilts-I’m-sure-it-will-all-be-okays (Mel? Ring a bell?), it was HELL-YES-ES! As in HAIL-YAY-ES. Seriously.

When someone actually arrives to have a PORT taken out? Well, that just means another FUCK-YOU-CANCER! (And who doesn’t want to SCREAM that from the top of their lungs? Seriously.

The last few weeks haven’t been the rosy road I had envisioned (delusions of grandeur anyone?) After the biopsy and Mayo send, we were all SO? (Kind of like Pauly D on Jersey Shore. “WHAT-CHOO-LOOKIN-AT-BI-OTCH?!”)

Turns out. No. Those results weren’t just nothing to worry about. They were showing more FUCKING CANCER to not just one, but TWO pathologists. And. Turns out? Not one of the three awesome docs wanted to be the one to say those truly SHIT-I-FIED words to us. THE COUPLE. The couple who is so in love that they all well up with tears when they look at us? Yea. That’s US.

So it wasn’t until our dear, dear Kelly at the surgeon’s office came in to meet with us that we learned the full scoop. Dr. Hollywood (love him) was still in surgery, so she grabbed paperwork in that“HOLYSHITYOU’VEGOTTOBEKIDDINGME” kind of way. I could read it on her face. Lucky for us, Doc Mozia returned before we left. Cleared it up like this:

“It’s like this. We were all shitting our pants. Knew it couldn’t be more FUCKING CANCER. But DAMN if those results didn’t just scream that right in all of our overly educated faces. So. We all three agreed: TIME FOR ANOTHER OPINION. And we decided to keep this juicy tidbit to ourselves. No staff. Just the three of us. And whoever got the results back from Mayo first? Well. THEY could do the deed.”

One of them did. Just. That. But how can you NOT freak out all over again when cute Kelly is welling up and asking how we’re taking the news. My breath LEFT me. No breath for the wicked. (I’m sorry, Jesus. I really do love you. I take it all back.)

It wasn’t until the mystery was all cleared up. NOFUCKINGCANCER. And 10 minutes down the road that I lost it. Full wailing. Holy shit. The dam broke. Then later than night and some wine later: “So. What would you DO?” “Well. If it was 20 years and I was 63? I’d fight it. If it was 40 years and I was 83? Not so much.” Okay. I could live with that. Because I was thinking: “Kauai. I will move us there and we will be exceptionally happy for FIVE YEARS.”

What a relief. I can keep the love of my life for a little while longer AND we can start making some seriously kick-ass plans for the FUTURE. Future. A concept that has just rejoined our vernacular. A few short hours ago.

So after the surgery, we hit Union Brasserie before they were officially open and those Profts. Well. They opened their arms. Their bottle of prosecco. And made us one freakin’ awesome omelette. Yes. We. Are. Blessed.

We love you all and our hearts are now so open that we can’t imagine a life without each and every one of you...

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Road Trippin. Chilis. So much has come before those battles lost and won. This life is shining more forever in the sun.