I don't know

"How's your husband feeling?"

I've mentioned before that I don't like the question when not proceeded by "Hello, How are you?". I have come to realize, however, that I simply do not like the inquiry. There is always the question of how honestly do I answer? How concerned is the person really and how much time do they have? Is it just a polite concern? How open should I be? I usually have a response ready, but I always struggle to answer. Regardless of their delivery or our boundaries, I really just hate that question.

This is why:

I don't know. I really truly do not know. I can't comprehend how he feels. I know the burning ache of fibromyalgia causing my nervous system to misfire, but I can't imagine the pain caused by a tumor growing directly out of a nerve.

I only know nausea that comes with a hangover, the flu or a first trimester. I don't know the sensation of having poison run through my veins in an attempt to eliminate cancer. Just think about that...it's poison. It is meant to kill just enough. I imagine it is more woke-up-by-the-toilet-worst-hangover-ever nausea than morning sickness, but still. I swore off vodka before I could even legally drink it. He goes back for chemo again the day after tomorrow.


I have had three surgeries in my adult life all of which for I was awake. For Mr. 1inamillion's first surgery, he was put under anesthesia and woke up the following day to hear that what was removed was the size of a soccer ball. He would need radiation and another surgery. My first surgery removed a nine and a half pound human and was followed by joy. And colic. That boy's head was as big as a soccer ball but my scar is a small fraction of Dane's.


His most recent surgery? He went under thinking a benign tumor was being removed and expecting a couple of tiny cuts. He awoke with a very large incision along his shoulder blade and another cancer diagnosis. My last surgery? A doctor hollowed out the carpal tunnel in my right hand while we all talked about his plans for an upcoming mission trip. I walked out an hour later and Mr. 1inamillion drove me to IHOP.

Clearly, I don't know how he's feeling. Ask the question only if you are prepared to forgive me. Whatever answer I give, I will likely be lying.