This is one of those funny true stories, from a place that is really not all that funny. Last year, my wife, Jen had her thyroid out due to cancer.
Trust me, it gets better. Trust me.
My wife had to under go something called a “surgical freeze”, where the doctor brings in a pathologist to check for malignant cells in the operating room. If malignant cells are found, the surgeon will become much more aggressive in his cutting and sampling of tissues. This saves time and lives.
Interesting, but not really funny. Because of this “freeze” my wife’s doctor was able to come out and talk to me. He said:
“We got this under control. Your wife _______ cancer.”
I swear he stopped talking for the word between “wife” and “cancer”. It happened two more times. I asked him to repeat himself one more time and again the word was just not there. My sister in law couldn’t hear it either. The word wasn’t there because I had it and I had to let it go.
“My wife has cancer.”
“Yes.” the doctor confirmed.
“OK, thank you.”
It gets better. Trust me.
The rest of that night slipped by. The next morning I was back at the hospital to bring her home. She was barely able to sit up. As near as I could tell, she had the biggest shot of morphine the hospital had on hand. She would need some time to recover enough to ride the elevator.
I left briefly to get the car ready for her. When I returned, two nice women were in the room with her. They were dressed up as clowns. The odd bit was, the taller woman was easily recognizable as my wife’s grandmother’s neighbor. How weird is that?
The taller clown was saying “Would you like to see a card trick?”
Jen’s eyes were as big as saucers as she nodded. The neighbor clown complied.
Jen picked a card, the seven of clubs. The clown hunted and hunted for it. Three guesses were wrong. Finally, the card was found, in the hall, on a cart. Surreal.
“Would you like a balloon dog?” asked the other clown. Jen nodded again.
“Me too, but they’re a choking hazard. How about a Mardi Gras bead dog, instead?”
“Ok. Phil, do you see these… ah, clowns?”
“Yes, I see.” I answered.
“That one lives next to my Nana.”
“Yes, I know.”
The clown finished twisting the beads into a small dog with a clownish “TA-DA!”
The next day, Jen said “You know, I dreamed about clowns. I dreamed you couldn’t see them but I could.” I told her they were real. I dug out the bead dog.
Her jaw dropped. “Oh my gawd, you have it!”
“I was afraid you were going to freak out, so I didn’t say much of anything to them. They gave you so many pain meds, I bet you thought you were hallucinating.”
“I thought I was…”
That was three and half months ago.
Today, we’re back to Roswell. And in the lobby my wife snapped this picture:
They are real!
She told me the picture was for fun.
I am convinced that the picture is affirmation, that she had something, that she was someplace few people know.