Each year at this time, I vividly recall the fear of "what if" as I uncomfortably rested in the donut tube. I also think back to the moment I realized something was wrong, because the Tech (who happened to be a personal friend) reported back into the room to inform me that she was going to run the scan with gad. I had said, "but the script didn't call for gad", which she affirmed, smiled, and quickly diverted. Mind you, I didn't realize it was going to be a dx of ms, but I knew she saw something. All I could think of was...please don't let it be fatal, please don't let it be a tumor, and please don't let it be something that affects my kids in any way.
Another thing I think of every year at this time is the way I received the news and who it was delivered by. God certainly gave me exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. I'm abundantly blessed to have friends in the medical community. Because immediately after hearing those words, I was held through my tears and physical weakness. She cried with me, uplifted me, and told me the exact thing I needed to hear...that ms would not change who I was as a mother. Being a mother is first and foremost in my life. First. Foremost.
Chris, I will never forget what you did for me. I will never know how you brought yourself to do it. I thank God for the strength He gave you that day, because I was able to draw from that when I had to deliver the same news to John, Mom, and Dad. You were always there for me during the very worst of it. Know that I love ya always, lady:-)
Which brings me to wonder, since I'm being quite sappy and all...what's the gift you give your mate on your 8th Anniversary? A simple google search tells me, "something bronze". Well. I do have a pretty nice tan goin' on! That counts, right? Yes. I think so.