You can't fight what you don't know.

Sitting in the surgeon's office was one of those moments...One of those moments when everything shifted...the very fabric of our reality warped .

The thing is this though: cancer had been present for a long while before that Wednesday morning appointment. It was lurking in the background while we had Christmas and while we moved house. It had taken up residence while we fought over what now seems insignificant squabbles of married life.

A silent arrival.
A stealth addition.
Unwanted and uninvited.

You can't fight what you don't know. Knowing what was happening in his body seemed to slam the brakes on the pace of our days . What was vital suddenly became trivial. What I had come to take for granted suddenly screamed at me. The silent and the hidden was detected and named. It took me days to say the word.... I couldn't. It felt like a betrayal of my faith and optimistic confidence to actually say "Sheldon has cancer. ." Crazy huh??
But I have realized that knowing and naming is powerful.  Solutions come with knowing. Plans can be made and treatment started.
So...that Wednesday appointment was a moment. A heartbreakingly great moment. You get why it was heartbreaking, but can you see how it was great??? We had found the silent and hidden scum that is cancer. We had it in our sights. You can't fight what you don't know. We know. And so now we fight.
As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of the PET scan place at the Mater. This is fighting: It's waiting rooms and appointments and prayers and me telling my husband that he is going to win. It's holding onto something deep and unwavering.

If you know me you know how much I love to wait and yet this is my battle ground for this moment. I'm the waiting room warrior.