There was an intervention last night. I was the subject.

Steve told me I need to stop.

He doesn’t recognize his new wife. That’s fair. I don’t either.

She is dark. Probably she is more like a regular person, but in comparison to before, dark. I don’t think she dances nor up for anything, always wanting to “adventure.” She doesn’t even listen to music.

It definitely is not the person he married and he could use her now. He doesn’t have time to console me nor the energy. He can’t do this alone. He said he understands my fears, but I have to pretend them away. I can’t look at the numbers. I can’t look at the studies. It was confusing to hear this argument as he is all about the numbers. But I guess you just pick the narrative that feels better at the time. Isn’t that what we all do, pick a narrative that fits our script. We can justify anything even bombs.

What he doesn’t understand is that the devastating news of Jacob’s scans didn’t just scare me, it rocked the foundation of everything I know. I felt that the world inverted itself. Unsure what was up and what was down. Everything that I felt known, poof, gone. It made me question everything and particularly the concept of a higher power that is good. How can that exist? And if it does has it been to 1275 York to the 9th floor? If it is all knowing, how did this miss the radar? I know for certain there are loads of prayers coming out from there.

But he was clear that he can’t have me like this for a year and a half. He was logical as usual. He even told me that if the next scans are bad again he would understand if I crawled up in a hole and didn’t speak again,  but until then, he needs me to snap out of it.

No more crying. You have to “stop.” I need you to stop now.

And I would do anything for my family. So I’m trying.

I’m on day one of trying not to cry.

 I even attempted to walk on the treadmill, maybe fitting in my clothes again will make me stop crying, but soon realized that it wasn’t the treadmill that I was seeking but rather the basement. No one can see me here. I can cry here. And just as I felt the water well…Steve ran down with a package.

Phew. That was close. I sucked back those tears fast.

The package is a book of letters from our incredible neighbor’s schoolmates. You see, I don’t live in an ordinary building. Nope. No interest in that. I live in a community. I have some of my closest friends in this building and across the hallway we have very special people who produce very special children. One of them is named Josie. She comes and plays with Jacob and Benno. They adore her. We all adore her. 

The package is from her classmates. People that have never met Jacob. Each student wrote their own letter and inside of each are jokes. They also baked for Jacob and get this…they raised $3,000 for pediatric cancer!

And I looked at that package and saw some hope in just today. There is no way a day that starts with such a package is going to be the shittiest day. And today (in theory) we don’t have to go to the hospital.

Jacob also slept for 17 hours and woke up feeling a lot better. And he ate a bit of food!!! Today will not be the shittiest. No today is going to be a good one. How can it not be when young school children drop off something like this? Thank you Josie and Friends.

 And then Jacob asked to go to Hudson Yards and the highline park. 

 Look at him at the park.

And then we saw THIS!! Cancer moms!!!! Pay attention. You need this!!!! I can now travel with Jacob’s medical supplies in a protected suitcase and not need a stroller too. This is a win. Buy one here.

Now I need to start my homework assignments, but first a more pressing issue.