Two days after I returned home from my months in Germany with Eddie, he called me with...you guessed it....more bad news. (I mean, why not, right?) He told me that the doctors said he had to do more treatment...double the amount actually...8 cycles or 6 months total. The news felt like I had been kicked in the gut...by a bull.
"What? 6 months? No...he's supposed to be done in May. The day is already marked on my calendar, people! He can't do anymore treatment - he feels too lousy! These extra cycles would push it back to...::mumbles and counts on fingers:: May...June...July...August...AUGUST!?!?!"
Our wedding was August 28, 2010.
::cue Panic Attack No. 134::
So what did I do next? Oh, come on people, you know how I do...I prayed and I cried, of course! No...ok, let's be real. They weren't prayers...they were begs. They weren't cries...they were howls. (For this blog, I tried typing "cry" into a thesaurus but none of the words fit.) I'm sure you all know by now what a Rachel Cry is. It's not a sad little whimper with a tissue box. I'm talkin' a full blown screaming-into-a-pillow meltdown! All-the-while, drenching said pillow case in snot, in tears, in runny mascara, and in drool. Yep. Sometimes I cry so hard that saliva strings from my mouth. Have you ever cried so hard that you thought your eyeballs were going to pop out? No? Hm, well, that probably classifies you as "normal" but let me tell you, it is not pretty. After that, sometimes there is nothing you can do except call your Mama. So that's what I did...and for probably the up-teenth time in the past few months the woman went into damage control mode.
And...we started to cancel the wedding.
And again, when I say "we" I mean my mother and my sister. Eddie and I probably still could have technically gotten married that day but when I looked down the aisle, I wanted to see MY Eddie waiting for me. I didn't want to see him standing there sick, swollen, shiny, and bald...if he could even stand that long at all! Who knows if he would even feel well enough to travel? Who knows anything for sure right now? Not me! Nothing felt guaranteed in my life those days. I'd given up on planning anything.
Many of my friends told me to just get married in the courthouse when I was in Germany. This relationship was so wild that I wanted everyone who supported us throughout the years to be there. I wanted my friends and family to be there to witness it...especially my Grandma Gent. I needed everyone there to support us and then later to party with us. I wanted it to be in God's house and I wanted Eddie to be healthy. All that other jazz was for the birds.
"But Rachel, what about chair sashes?!?"
"What do you mean you haven't picked a honeymoon location?!?"
"Do you want tall vases on the table or short round ones with water and floating candles?"
"Are you going to take dance classes with your fiance?"
"Have you thought of something the bridesmaids can put their flowers in at the table?"
"Should the groomsmen have a pocket squares or boutonnieres?"
::blank stare::
When it comes to wedding planning, a lot of times you don't get your deposits back...even after you drop the "C" word...("C"ancer, people. Come on, we're classier than that). But through some slick talking from my mother we were able to move everything to the following year. I had some limited dates to choose from with our hall but we settled for July 30th. To this day that date doesn't feel right. In my head, my wedding anniversary is August 28 but alas...July 30, 2011 it had to be. It made me sick to think I had waited so long to finally be with him and now I had to wait a whole 'nother year. ::sigh::: I tried telling myself Rachel had to wait 7 more years for Jacob in the Bible...I can wait 1 more. (As long as Eddie doesn't suddenly marry my sister or plan to have babies with my maids. Hehe, Bible jokes. ;) )
The weeks went by and I felt like I was just going through the motions. Everyone at work was really sweet, asking about Eddie and giving their support, but I just felt hollow not being with him. I worked with over 200 women and many of them would ask about the wedding because, normally, girls love to gush about their big day...but I didn't want to talk about it. I know they meant well and were genuinely curious how the plans were coming along but I just couldn't muster up the energy to seem mildly interested. There were some girls that were planning weddings too and wanted to compare and chit-chat...but I was just a big ball of bitterness. When the other girls at work would start talking about bridesmaids jewelry or up-dos I felt my heart start to race. How nice it must be for everything to be falling right into place with your planning, ladies. How fantastic it must be when your biggest worry at the moment is that your slutty second cousin wants to show too much cleavage in her dress at the church. I'm sorry but I can't help you decide whether or not you should blow out the two candles or leave them lit after you light the unity candle together. (?!?!?!) My thoughts are preoccupied on my fiance battling cancer 5,000 miles away. Please, leave me alone with my poor "Why Me?" thoughts.
There was another nurse, Takara, who was planning a wedding at the same time too. She didn't like talking about the planning either. It was wonderful when I entered the break room and saw her sitting at the table eating her lunch. I knew I would not have to make small-talk with her about guest seating...or DJ music...or the ever-so-important decision between a stretch limo and a party bus. We both ate our sandwiches in silence...a blissful, well-appreciated silence. I also had many sweet women at work that would reassure me that what I was feeling was ok. One day on my lunch break (I swear I actually worked at work...not just took breaks) I expressed my frustration that I felt like everyone was double- or triple-lapping me in life to a nurse named Val. I told her I felt stuck at the starting line while everything was coming so easily to everyone else and she told me this:
"Yes, well hun, these other girls may seem like they have pretty walls and they may appear to already be building a beautiful roof but you and Eddie are working on the most stable foundation you can build. You are filling in the cracks and taking your time. Your basement will be so strong that you will be able to build for years on it. Your foundation will be able to bare a heavy load and your house won't collapse with a small wind like some of the others may."
And I needed that. I'm telling you, my nursing friends were my counselors for years. I owe them a lot.
One sunny day, the bridal shop called to tell me my dress was -
::perky saleswoman voice:: "all ready to be picked up! Hehehe!"
I murmured a thanks and hung up. Some days later, I received a letter in the mail reminding me that my dress was there and I can pick it up along with my bra, slip, and veil...I tossed the letter to the side.
I just couldn't think about it. I didn't want to pick my dress up. Heck...why should I? So it can hang in my closet for a year? Yea, great. Shit, maybe I'll put the damn thing on and sit around in my apartment in it like Miss Havisham. (Shame on you for not getting that reference.) When my wedding date finally rolls around just dust the cobwebs off of me and bring me to the church! How many brides do you know that dread picking up their dress?! I felt like I was crazy!
I was such an emotional wreck that my mother and sister planned a weekend to come down and pick up the dress with me.
(En route to the bridal store...don't be too excited, Rach.)
And that's what I did too. The dress remained in my closet for months. Every time I had to get the vacuum out from the same closet I had to focus not to look at the dress. The veil and slip were hidden inside the big white bag too. I felt like if I looked directly at it I would lose any amount of self control I had with my feelings about that day. When I moved out of my apartment, the dress finally came out of the closet...and into my mother's basement, where it hung for months. I never even peeked at it. I felt like if I unzipped the zipper would unzip a flood of emotions and I didn't want to lose my mind. How messed up was I?
Eventually, I was able to get some more time off to fly back and be with Eddie on his birthday. I stayed for two weeks and then had to come back home to work.
I traveled to Germany 3 times during his treatment. We tried not to let his sickness bring us down. We still did fun things and tried to stay normal when he was feeling up to it.
Activities during first visit.
We went hiking, for walks, and had picnics. (That's our old pup, Tyson.)
On the days when he wasn't feeling so hot, friends came over to play video games with us.
(Thank goodness for Mario Kart!)
We went to the movies...tough crowd.
We went to clubs and danced.
We went out to dinner.
We went shopping.
We went to bars.
We went fishing...I hate fish.
Second visit.
Second visit.
Third visit.
We played corn hole in the sunshine. (No, they don't know this game here, just our family and friends. Eddie made those boards.)
He worked out.
Visited family.
Took Tyson for walks in the park.
I returned to Germany for the third time to be with him while he finished up his treatment and you could tell he was exhausted. He had many good days but he still had some pretty rough days too. I remember one day was especially hard for him with muscle and bone aches. He was in pain and I couldn't do anything for him so I ran him a bath. I let him soak alone in the tub but after a while I went in to check on him. He was just sitting there looking down at the water and I asked him if it would be ok if I helped him wash his back. (I love his back.) I tried to scrub hard and relax him with massaging. I washed his back and then his chest. I hadn't bathed an adult since I was in nursing school but my old habits kicked in and I started assessing his skin integrity. I took in his scars. As I washed his chest I counted the two from a biopsy. 1 from a chest tube. Eddie tried taking out the stitches himself and had left one suture in the left side. I laughed to myself. His arms had many old wounds from failed IV attempts. Bruises. I told him to put his legs up so I could wash them too. Small dots from the Neulesta injections on his thighs. One large scar from an old knee surgery. I started to wash below his knees. As I scrubbed his skinny legs, to my horror, the hair on his legs came off into the loofah! As I dipped it back into the water the hair floated away. I remember feeling the color drain from my face and my stomach drop. I left the bathroom and let Ed finish up alone. I told him I'd give him some privacy but I was the one that needed to be alone. As soon as I left the bathroom I dropped to my knees at the side of our bed and asked God to continue healing him. I didn't want him to be in pain anymore. I just scrubbed off the hair on my fiance's legs! This needed to end. I needed him healthy again. Now! I needed my sanity back!
August 10, 2010 was Eddie's last day of therapy and then I took him back to America with me. My family and friends hadn't seen him since January. They only saw pictures and got updates from me. It felt so good to present him to everyone. Healthy. Of course my mom and my aunt were a blubbering mess when they finally laid eyes on him again (crying is genetic in my family) but it felt really good to see my dad shake his hand...and then pull him into and awkward embrace. I just thought "My Eddie is so loved."
2.5 weeks later...I couldn't help but think today was the day we were supposed to be wed. I prayed to God for rain. I said "God, please show me a sign that this date truly wasn't meant to be our date. Make me feel a little better by sending in a storm or just a few hours of sprinkling." I felt a tinge of guilt when I ended my prayer though because I remembered another nurse, Michelle, was getting married that day too. (I later confessed to her and apologized). But you see, my God is a funny man, and instead of it being a really crappy, cloudy, rainy day...he made it one of the most beautiful days of the summer.
When I finally meet him, we're going to share some knee-slapping stories.
I can hear it now:
"Hahaha, yea, and remember that time you simply asked me for a few rain drops and I gave you a beautiful, sunny day instead? Yea, I figured you could handle that one too!"
"Hahaha yea, good one, God. Or hey, remember that time we successfully completed treatment and you gave us infertility? Where do you come up with this stuff? It's genius!"
Instead of donning a white gown and Eddie a tuxedo, on August 28, 2010 Eddie and I grilled and ate dinner together on my back porch. I thanked God that I had him here with me and he was on the road to recovery.
(Never thought I'd be so happy to see Eddie's crustache peeking through!)
Fast forward one year later.
(Still had it slightly together in this picture)
(Then Rev. Ash announced us as Mr. and Mrs. ... and I lost it)
I finally had my Eddie, I still had my faith, and we had our health...no amount of words or pictures could truly capture what this moment felt like...on my pretend wedding day.
Germany vs. America
141. Lawn mowers are a lot smaller in Germany. Some of them need plugged in with an extension cord…weird! Also, you're not allowed to mow your grass on Sundays...or holidays. Dumb. Absolutely DUMB!
142. German officials repeatedly tells its residents that Germany needs more babies…
143. “Don’t they hate us over there?” I know it’s believed that all other countries dislike Americans but I want it to be known that I’ve only experienced kindness in Germany…even after they found out I was from America. Only heard hatred towards Bush.
144. In Germany, you can't turn right at red lights. It's really frustrating!
145. My cousin Tara actually discovered this: Euros have no smell to them. You know how dollars just have that "money smell?"...yea, not happening here with the paper bills.
146. Similarly, American dollars are all one shape/size. Euros come in different sizes depending on the value. It's a good idea, I'm surprised blind people haven't complained...;)
147. Chinese fortune cookies here have German on one side, and English on the other. Come on now, guys...
148. It's funny to hear "Bob The Builder! Can we fix it? Yes, we can!" in German. It's something like: "Bob der Baumeister! Können wir das schaffen? Ja, wir schaffen das!" ("Bob the Build Master. Can we do it? Yes, we will do that!")
149. Apparently skunks aren't that common in Germany. I taught Eddie that word the second time he came to see me when we saw one on a walk. He referred to it later as a "stunk" and I fell in love with him all over again! :) (I even tried clarifying when we smelled a skunk when we were driving and he said no, they don't have them).
150. Germany has no skunks, bears, raccoons, poisonous snakes, or tornadoes...BORING!
No comments:
Post a Comment