Long Black Limousine
January Musings by j. gabrielle
"Long Black Limousine. Shiniest car I've ever seen."
"The doctor says my prostate is enlarged. He wants me to get a biopsy".
That was the end of "normal".
We scheduled the biopsy for the last Thursday in November. Afterwards, the doctor was feeling positive and, with a cursory glance he said he didn't see any cancer. However, when the lab results come back a week later, there is "a little bit of cancer". My love tells me this after dinner when we've settled in for the evening's glass of wine. A single tear weaves its way down my cheek. Fear seizes my heart.
We make an appointment to see the urologist jointly. I start researching prostate cancer, and diet and grasp at every food hope that I see. My love is no doubt sick of blueberries, blueberry syrup, and blueberry juice. He indulges my edict that we cut out red meat almost entirely. "Unless it's organic", I say, instantly hating how snotty I sound.
"Back seat is nice and clean. Rides as quiet as a dream."
It is now a week before Christmas. The doctor gives us the results. Stage II sounds scary. I researched Gleason score and we know what number we WANT to hear and when the doctor says "7", my eyes meet my Love's and he mouths "damn." Treatments are outlined and as the doctor goes through each one I know there are only four words that my Darling hears; "INCONTINENCE" and "ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION" and "IMPOTENCE". His forehead sinks to the table on the latter two, "OOoh no." The doctor shines a ray of bright hope in the form of a treatment called HIFU that is only available outside of the U.S.A. but has a 94% success rate and the lowest incidence of the four dirty words. The flickering hope is fast extinguished when we learn that treatment is $25,000 and insurance won't cover it.
"Someone dug a hole six long feet in the ground.
I said 'Good-Bye' to you and I threw my roses down."
In the early days of this news, I met with an emotional crossroads all of my own. You see, I lost a love suddenly to death in 2005. My fiancee' succumbed to an abdominal aneurysm. I was in D.C. for work. I left for home as he was being rushed to the hospital. I screamed bloody murder when the family called to tell me "he's gone". I wanted to drive into a truck. My idyllic life on Craig's Creek was over. My best friend was gone. I lost the house and property. Eventually, I even lost my job so crushing was my grief. Friends pulled me through. I had toughened up a bit when just a year later I lost a boyfriend who died in his sleep. People started calling me "The Black Widow". No need to have said this, for I felt it all by myself.
"Ain't nothin' left at all in the end of being proud,
with me riding in this car and you flyin' through them clouds."
So, there was a moment early on in this new challenge when I had to decide to FIGHT or just give up before the fight even began. I knew what happiness I had found with this man and I wasn't ready to let it go. Sleeves were rolled up. A plan was devised. We would raise the money! I became a fund raising fool ! All my energy has been focused on benefit shows, the www.giveforward.com/MacMcCadden site, on silent auctions, on media awareness and taking care of my Baby while he takes care of me.
"I've had some time to think about it. And watch the sun sink like a stone.
I've had some time to think about you on the long ride home."
A long time friend hands me the first cash donation even before Christmas. He lends this caveat, "If I were ever going to date you I would really have to rethink it because of this Black Widow thing". Tears spring to my eyes and I sting as though slapped, but I laugh and take the money. Instantly my skin thickened.
"Forty years go by with someone laying in your bed.
Forty years of things you say you wished you'd never said.
How hard would it have been to say some kinder words instead?
I wonder at the stars as the sky is turning red."
Tomorrow is February. The urologist recommended the treatment be done within 2-4 months. My darling has lost weight. The time for press releases, music concerts and endless e-mails has passed. This part so far, this I know how to do. I just reach back to my black and white movies, to Mickey Rooney days and "Put on a Show"! I can predict the outcome of this part. "Build it and they will come" and you did! And if you did....I love you Man! Thank you from every cell of my body. And, well, if you didn't....maybe you will....the website is there...www.GiveForward.com/MacMcCadden.....I just am out of time to e-mail and call and ask. I must turn my thoughts to the unknown...
"Headlights searchin' down the driveway. The house is dark as it can be.
I go inside and all is silent. It seems as empty as the inside of me."
We meet with the trained doctor who will actually perform the HIFU procedure next week. My Darling will be given assorted medications to take and we will wire the money to pay for this HIFU. And in three weeks time, we will go to the Bahamas on a Friday afternoon. On Saturday morning my Love will be anesthetized and super sound-waves will be directed at his prostate to burn this cancer away. I find it so ironic that a man who loves music so very much may indeed have SOUND heal him. We are told he will feel well enough to walk out of the hospital and go to dinner that night. This is stuff of science fiction! But, I cannot predict the success of this procedure. I know what I feel....I feel like he will be healed. I refuse to consider any other outcome or to dwell on it in any way. My Darling needs my attention on him now.
I've had some time to think about you on the long ride home."
Song Lyrics by Patty Griffin, "Long Ride Home" © Universal Music Publishing Group
