I Hate Something Bad

Yesterday Niobe was posting about the phrase "nothing bad has happened yet." (NBHHY) I'd only recently come across this phrase/philosophy. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I could see how it is an attempt to just live in the moment. Yet the fear and implication of impending disaster was disheartening as well. I decided to mull it over a bit before commenting.

I'd decided that I would finally call my best friend M to share our news of the babies. I was excited to pick her brain, as she has (non-ART) twin girls who are just turning one this month, as well as an older son. I was looking forward to living in the moment for a change, and talking about minivans and strollers and breastfeeding.

Before I knew it the world was looking very different. After briefly saying hello and both of us apologizing for being out of touch since the fall, the day simply shattered. My friend, MW, who has felt more of a sister to me than my own, began to fill me in the last couple weeks in their lives. Her husband, MM, had been having some health issues lately. I knew that MM had a history of atrial fibrillation, so was concerned he was having troubles again. Then she reveals he has had a colonoscopy and a rectal mass was found. I'm surprised, but not yet shocked. Then she calmly goes on to say the biopsy was suspicious for malignancy. Again, I'm upset but still hopeful for a good outcome. But the last shoe drops. A CT scan shows metastatic lesions in the liver, and possibly lung. I am speechless. This is something bad. Very bad.

This is the couple we have asked to be our son's legal guardians, despite many siblings in both our families. This is the couple who helped us get an apartment next to them when we had our big rottweiler. This is the couple who cooked dinner with us many nights a week for 2 years. This is the couple that we drank wine with and played cards until late in the night and then stumbled across the hall to our own beds. This is the couple who held my hand while we tried for our first child. MW was present and held my hand at the birth of that child. This is the couple we have considered relocating to be closer to. These are our friends.

MM is 35-years-old. Rectal adenocarcinoma with metastatic lesions has a 5-year survival rate of 10%. That means 90% of patients are dead in 5 years. He will likely need multiple surgeries, extensive chemo and possibly other adjuctive therapies. Their son is 4 and the twin girl are not even a year old yet. My heart is breaking.

I feel horribly frustrated that we live a day's drive away. Here I am, not working. I could do so much for them, if only we were closer. I know there are things I can (and will) do. Sending care packages, messages, listening. But I so wish there was more.

Right now, they don't even have a complete diagnosis yet. They will to talk with many doctors before settling on the plan. I still have hope. He is young, strong, otherwise healthy and motivated. But their normal life was difficult and harried. This future is going to become unbearable.

I welcome suggestions of ways to help. Since it seems that some form of chemo will be inevitable, I'd like to knit MM a cozy hat. I know many of you are knitters. Can you help me? I need a simple pattern, as I am a beginner. I've never knitted in the round, but hear it's easy. Then I need recommendations for some super soft yarn. Most of the projects I've done use cheapy stuff from the craft store. I want something luxurious.

I am not religious. But I can't help but ask for prayers and good thoughts for my wonderful friends.

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Thanks for the suggestion to head to TEAM WHY MOMMY. I've actually been to Toddler Planet before, and was planning on heading back for advice. Thanks for the reminder.