"I feel like I'm facing a firing squad."
My heart sank.
The unknown. Uncertainty. Randomness. Fate.
Regardless of the name given to it, this force can alter our lives in the blink of an eye. Whether we're aware of it or not, it permeates all aspects of our lives. It affects our mood, how we treat our family and friends, and our anxiety levels.
Simply put, the unknown wreaks havoc.
Everything is humming along perfectly - job/work, family, relationships - when suddenly you're blind-sided with an unexpected issue. Like they say, "It's always something, right?"
Annoyances pop up all the time; testing our patience. The car breaks down on the very day you're starting a new job. Horrific traffic gets between you and an important appointment. The cable goes out while you're watching that one football game you've been waiting for all season.
That's all small stuff when it's compared to life's unexpected curveballs; the passing of a loved one, a natural disaster, or being faced with your own health problem.
At the very moment that my husband said those eight words, I realized that regardless of the outcome of today's tests, our "normal" life together ceases to exist and will be replaced by something many people call the "new normal."
Separately and together, we are facing a major change in our lives. To get to this point, it has already been a rather long journey; months of visits with doctors as far away as 120-miles, blood tests, invasive examinations, drug therapy, and x-rays of every type.
My husband's never had a single health issue. This "unknown" has been eating him up. Hearing him say those eight words, well frankly, made my heart stop. As the love of my life was wheeled away and I was told to settle into the waiting room, the hallway got longer, the lights went dim, and I became consumed in the beast, myself. The Unknown.
We are a partnership. He's my confidant, my advisor, my best friend, and the person I go to with all my trouble. And - I am his.
We are in this together, always. The plan is to continue to grow old together, holding hands and sitting in rockers on the front porch. We've been together more than 45-years. It ain't over, yet.
I've learned much from the passing of my father, then my mother, and then most recently my sister. But health scares like this tend to force us to evaluate and then reevaluate all that is important to us.
My husband, to put it simply, is a really good man. He has integrity and character, is fair and kind, exudes confidence and courageousness, and shares his life with me.
This Friday the unknown will also cease to exist. The road to creating our "new normal" with a plan for handling the outcome of all the testing will be paved.
I'm grateful for his strength, and for him seeing the strength in me. Together we will accept our new normal and conquer our fears.
