"There's an Elephant in the room"

Today I'm thankful for...
Having my health
Spending lots of quality time with my family
Some alone time
Feeling good about my wife's health

I have been thinking a lot these last few days about the future, and more specifically Lulu's future with breast cancer. What keeps coming to my mind is the words the Randy Pausch used in his book, The Last Lecture, "there was a Elephant in the room". Lulu and I have this Elephant following us, and neither of us wants to discuss it. Reality, Lulu is still battling the hideous cancer, and the Elephant in the room is what could be her future? I'm not sure that I knew what it would be like to carry an large, long tusks, beast around on my shoulders for this long? How do you eliminate his ever presence? I know that the right plan would be to have the most difficult of conversations. What if you become sick enough to not be able to return to work, or what if you can't muster enough energy after future treatments to consistently care for the children? Most of our days are filled with ignoring tomorrow, and what it might bring, we just want to make it through today. But there's a time in life that you must face the future (no matter how scary it might be?) and plan for it.

Part of the "facing the future" was addressed today when we both met Dr. Zeff at the office for a ownership meeting. Once a month we schedule, and meet, for a 2 hour discussion on the future of Dentistry for Kids, and today we were past due for a chat session. I have been talking Lulu's ear off since her cancer diagnosis about discussing our plans as the owners of the busy practice. When you been awoken by this kind of adversity (both Lulu's breast cancer and Lourdes' extremely premature birth) I think we all reassess our life's and what is our purpose in this life time? As I struggle to define my purpose, I did conclude that I felt a strong urge to spend less time in the mental and physical involvement in managing the daily activities of the dental practice. So, as the doctors met we all voiced our opinions on our own involvement in the practice. I'm not sure if the conversation will truly lead us to a euphoric end, but I know that I felt better once I got these long time feelings off my chest. With both Lulu and Dr. Zeff being out of the office, I have seen the light. A light of how I want to see my future within the framework of Dentistry for Kids (and how I would like to see the framework for my wife)?

The radiation treatment for Lulu in San Francisco is approaching fast and we don't have a plan for how we are going to orchestrate it all? I try to hold back my apprehension about the whole thing, but truth be told, I'm scared to have to be apart from my lover and confidant for even a few days let alone a possible 5 or 6 weeks! I know that we'll be together for the weekends, but not being there for her during those intense radiation treatments, holding her hand, or telling her that every things going to be just fine, will be as hard as being alone. I have been tempted to just reschedule patients during those days and take the older boys out of school to be there as she goes through this, next step, of cancer treatment? I know we'll both look back on this time and see that the sacrifices made weren't difficult, but for now they seem like a huge ice covered mountain that we just can't make the ascent to the summit? I pray everyday (I now know how to pray, not like what I used to call praying) for the strength and the wisdom to make the choices that will bring healing and comfort to Lulu.

I had made the decision to walk myself to the ownership meeting (not just for the exercise, but also for the alone, thought provoking time I need to sort out my thoughts). As I walked through the cold and windy neighborhood I was thinking about how I got to this point in my life? A beautiful wife, 4 wonderful kids, large dental practice, and living in Reno. How in my 44 years I have travel through many successes and a few non-successes; however, through it all I have become this person that I really like. And until now, like the old cliche, I couldn't think of anything that I would change? I continued to follow the road for the office, and I couldn't take my mind off of "what if" scenarios. What if I couldn't keep the strength up supporting my cancer battling wife? What if she wasn't able to return to the profession that she so desperately loves? What if one day she isn't here for the family anymore? I couldn't shake the grief that came over me as I shuffled my red and black Nikes over the frigid pavement. The hour long walk seemed to take forever, and I was happy that I wore my waterproof coat, because the tears that flowed from me would have soaked though my other one. I normally look forward to these walks to clear my head of negative thoughts and ponder life's next steps, but today I just "wanted to get there". I could feel myself in a almost run the last half mile to the office!