Waging War

My mother drove me to the physicians office where I needed a consultation for a chronic injury I have. I thought it was officially over in August when it was last treated, but turned out it wasn’t. I walked into a room that had a dull yellowish hue, and I sat in the tan chair in the middle. There was a rectangular light, which looked like a robot head with a long neck, hanging above. A nurse followed me in and clicked the light on. She was trying to make small talk, but my attention and mind vanished the moment she pressed the button that automatically tilted the chair backwards. I stared up at the square tiled ceiling and I felt the warm tears stream down from the corner of my eyes. “Are you all right?” she asked. I nodded and bit my lip. Minutes later the doctor came in. He was sad to see me again, and wondered if I wanted to take care of the problem today. I said yes, and he guaranteed me that this procedure won’t cost anything additional. He kept saying how he wished the first procedure took, but sometimes these things happen. He rubbed the numbing gel on my skin. It was cold. I closed my eyes in anticipation for the pinch that usually follows.

I pictured my George when I closed my eyes, and how badly I wish he was there with me in the room. How badly I wished he was out in the waiting room ready to take me home, rather than my mom. The pinch was swift, but the pressure was deep and uncomfortable, like a sinus headache. I winced, and the doctor tapped my arm and said, “we’re all done. Not too bad, just annoying, I know.”

I thanked him and asked how his newborn is doing. He smiled and said “I’ll go get my phone to show you some pictures.” The nurse bandaged me up and the low hum of the chair tilted upwards back to the seated position. He came back and handed me 2 prescriptions, and then showed me some pictures of his new son. His son was so happy and had a great smile. I thanked him again and said his son was cute.

I walked through the dormitory like hallway that lead into the main lobby. My mom stood up when she saw me and I glanced down at the floor. The moment we walked out, I started bawling, wishing that George was there. She held me and kept saying “I know, I know.”

The one positive of today was I saw that on the Cycle for Survival community page they posted my story about George. My team also received a donation by the Coca-Cola Company because we were selected from this competition I participated in. We’re over our goal amount of money, but I want to try to reach $10,000. I don’t want another family to go through what I am. I don’t want another wife to have to watch her husband die in her living room. I don’t want another loved one be held hostage in their own skin while something inside them steals their life. I hate what cancer did to George and I hate how it has hijacked my life. Fight and destroy cancer.

I am strong.


“I will continue to wage war against cancer for George”

On November 25th my husband lost his 7 year battle to Fibrolamellar Carcinoma. On that day, the world lost a husband, a son, a brother, a uncle, a friend, a musician, a writer, a foodie, a comedian, a biker and much more. But what you can’t see is what everyone else around him lost. I lost more than just a companion and a best friend that day, I also lost the part of myself that I loved the most.

And this is why I will continue to wage war against cancer for George. I am riding on February 8th in Summit, NJ with the Drew University Women’s Lacrosse. As the hollowness inside me seems endless, my team has been my strength and light, and has shown me as a single group we are strong. Support me, and my team as we ride take part in Cycle for Survival.

– Julia S.

About J.

Fitness professional, fitness & nutrition writer, widowed at 28. Writing about getting through grief through self-care, physical activity, and the ​constant feeling of being uncomfortable.
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