My world is filled with millions and millions of heroes and heroines, though I do not know them; nor will I ever meet them. They are the mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, best friends, husbands, wives, grandparents, and aunts and uncles that are fighting cancer. There are people that deal very closely with the disease and others who have not, but these days it seems extremely rare that cancer has not affected each one of us in some way. I knew a young woman briefly who confided in me that just about everyone in her family had passed away from this disease. She lost her mother as a teenager, her father was battling it and she herself was on her way into surgery to remove masses from both her ovaries and intestines. That was the last time I had seen her. I don't know what became of her and if those masses were cancerous. In a perfect world she is alive and well but--well, we all know that isn't the way things go. If you're out there Jan, I wish you nothing but the best...

I had hoped to live my life without being affected by cancer but those closest to me know that it just didn't play out that way. In 1997, as a junior in high school, I sat next to a quiet, cute, senior in my math class. He immediately grabbed my attention and the day he asked me if I had a pencil he could borrow, I nearly fell off my chair. He was definitely the tall, dark and handsome type with a goatee and a backwards hat--two things that I found so completely hot on a guy!! Basically he was just eye candy for me that year. I was kind of dating someone else; someone and well, I had to be honest with myself. I thought I was completely out of John's league. He graduated that June but because he was friends with my best friend, I got to see John one last time before he decided to move to Georgia. The three of were wondering around town, goofing around, being loud and obnoxious when suddenly John and I were alone; my best friend had disappeared. We stood face to face, him with his hands in his pockets, a button down shirt that had the first three or four buttons undone and that infamous backwards hat that seemed to make my heart beat faster. And, he smelled absolutely amazing--so manly in whatever cologne he had on! And me, as naive as I could possibly be, turning away to see where my bff had gone just as John leaned in to kiss me!! It took only a split second to realize that I had just made a complete idiot out of myself. I beat myself up over that night for years--three years, eleven months and three weeks, but who's counting!

In 2001, my best friend said that John was back in New Jersey and he asked her about the "quiet, short girl from math class"! He gave her his phone number and told her to tell me to call him. Well, as much as I liked John back in the day, I was busy now--extremely busy, casually dating three other guys. "I don't have time for this now." I told her. She just laughed at me and said that her little "La" was a "playa". One of the guys I was dating was the same guy that I was dating back in 1997. I was so head over heels in love but the situation was anything but ideal. He was the son of one of my teachers but even three years later we were still sneaking around on and off, but mostly off. We'd lose touch for months at a time, start seeing each other again and then lose touch again. Maybe it was time to just let go. Finally, one month later, John and I went on our first date and we've been together ever since!!

In late July 2005, we moved into our first place together and we were preparing for our September wedding. John called me on and said that he had just come from the Dr.'s office because he hurt himself at work while lifting a water heater. "I might have cancer". He said very matter of factly. "What?? What a stupid f---ing thing to say." I told him. But while examining him, the dr. found a lump in John's left testicle. That was on July 29th, John's twenty-sixth birthday. On August 1st, the dr. called and said that surgery was scheduled for the next day!!! There was no time to think or even breathe at that point. Just before anesthesia was administered, with absolutely no bedside manner at all, the dr. told John that the cancer had metastasized into his lungs--eleven nodules were detected during a petscan. I couldn't believe it--I felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath me. He's going to die. I know he's going to die, was the only thing that I could think. We weren't at all prepared for this, not that anyone ever is, but we didn't even have a bed for John to rest in when he came home. Thank God for family! My parents ran out to get us the essentials, including a brand new bed. It was bizarre to watch two people who had been battling during a bitter divorce for years come together and work, all bad feelings aside.

John had one week to recover from surgery before he could begin chemotherapy. Aside from the obvious, I could tell that something was weighing down on his heart. I didn't press it; I knew he would come to me when and if he was ready. When he finally did, it nearly broke my heart. "You don't have to marry me. I'll understand". I'd be lying if I said that the thought hadn't already crossed my mind. By then I had already gone through so much heartache, part of me couldn't bear to stick around and watch him die but at the same time I knew I was right where I was supposed to be, fighting with him. "I'm not going anywhere. This is where I belong". I'll never forget the look of relief that came over his handsome face. And despite having treatment that morning, John was healthy and happy at our wedding on September 4, 2005.

I wish I could say it was all smooth sailing from then on but there's nothing smooth about cancer. Just a few weeks later John was hospitalized twice with a blood clot deep behind his knee and several small ones in both his lungs. I was never so terrified in my life. He had become completely incapacitated, unable to move, even to get to the bathroom. I became his 24/7 nurse, while working. I was so overwhelmed but if God forbid our time together was limited, then this was where I was going to spend it. By the grace of God he recovered and continued with four rounds of chemo. Each round made him weaker but he never stopped fighting for a single second. He was so strong and brave even when I knew he was doing everything he could to hold himself together. There were days when he was so broken, crying because the chemo was ravaging his body and soul. And it was the little things that hurt the most. We were sitting down at the table one night and John ran his fingers through his goatee and it just fell out. He just kind of said, oh, well, but I knew it really, really bothered him. I wanted so much to stay strong for him; it was my job as his wife but even I was close to breaking. I never slept; I just lay next to him and jumped at every move that he made, every uneven breath that he took. I had horrible stress related stomachaches and my anxiety was at a level that it never reached before, but I didn’t care. I just wanted my love to live.

After the last round of chemo, John had an appointment with his oncologist but I couldn’t go because I had already missed so much work so my aunt went with him. Hours went by with no word from them. I didn’t know if I was going to throw up all over myself or if I was going to pass out first. I was so nervous. I couldn’t imagine him going through even one more round, he was already so weak. I couldn’t watch him sit down to another bowl of plain rice for one more meal because that was all his stomach could handle. I couldn’t bear to see him hurt for one more second. Finally, the phone rang. My stomach dropped and I could barely breathe. “For the first time since you’re married, I’m bringing your husband home to you cancer free”, my aunt said in between tears. I cried so hard, but they were finally tears of joy! John fought a short battle, but it was a battle nonetheless. That was almost six and a half years ago!!

You know, with life's every day challenges--bills, schedules, housework, jobs, ect., it's sometimes hard to keep track of what's really important. There are days when John's battle seems so far behind us that I almost forgot that it ever happened. I'l find myself angry at him for something stupid like not picking his clothes up off the floor or taking out the garbage. I have to quickly remind myself that no matter what he's still here!!! What would I ever do if he wasn't here to make a mess??? I'll take his nasty socks and garbage in the kitchen any day!!!

To my hero, I love you so, so much! You fought a battle that I'd never be strong enough to fight. You are the love of my life and I am so incredibly proud to be married to you!!! You've made my life better--you've made me better person!!! More than you know!!! <3

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