"Robert" by Kasia

Robert has a natural pride that he carries in his back pocket.  His confidence is second to none, and this is why I know that everything is going to be just fine.  I think back a couple years, a few months before Robert and I were “dating”.  This confident, dare I say cocky, man told me that some day I would be rich, marry him, and take care of him.  I must say he nailed two of those things right on the head.  I soon will marry this man, and today I find myself taking care of him.  Although, I must admit, that even though I may be his cook, maid, and on-time pill reminder, I am not taking care of Robert.  Robert, in fact, is taking care of me.  The way he laughs in the face of cancer, and cracks jokes about this difficult situation, make me know that I can make it through anything.  

I told him today (yesterday), that I think I don’t cry or realize the severity of everything going on because I do not feel a part of it.  I feel that I am floating above the situation just observing.  I am well aware of the fact that my fiance has cancer. I cannot change this. However, this is just the state we are in at the moment, it does not define him, it simply allows him to define himself by the way he reacts.  I am aware that the next few months will be difficult and at times seem like they may take the best of us, but a year from now we will be laughing and making jokes about how Robert always has to one-up everyone.  In this case he decided to do it by not only losing one testicle, but two.   

With testicular cancer being among the rarest forms of cancer, but the most common cancer in young men, it seems extremely improbable that one man will be hit with this twice, seven years apart, in one life time.  I would assume it would be about as rare, if not more rare, than being struck by lighting twice.  I say this very cautiously, because I do not want Robert to get any ideas and make the "lighting strike" his next feat.  

Roberts confidence and ability to focus on a goal, and always succeed, should leave all of us at peace.  We can sit back and watch the inevitable downfall of cancer, again.

Words cannot express how thankful we are for the support and positive energy that our family, friends, and community have provided for us.  Thank you for taking a minute to read our short stories and rambles that have become a coping mechanism for us, as well as a way to communicate Robert's progress.


Thanks,
Kasia