Wedding Blog

Roughly a year-and-a-half ago, Mama Joey called me and left a message asking me to call her back ASAP. I was in a training, and called her during my afternoon break. Her voice sounded a little shaky, but I thought maybe I just caught her after a cough or something. She said she had news — bad news. My first thought was that something happened to my BIL. He was serving in Afghanistan at the time, and well, I’m sure you can guess what I was thinking. It wasn’t my BIL, he was fine. Mama J said that she had gone to the doctor the week before and they found a few lumps on her breast. She wasn’t alarmed at the time because she’s had benign cysts removed before. She returned to the doctor that morning and they told her the lumps were cancer.

I was silent. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think, and I could hear my name being paged over the PA system asking me to return to the training room. I wanted to ask her all sorts of questions, but she said she had to go to her next appointment for more tests. I didn’t know what to do, so I went back into the training. I sent Mr. Joey a note that said, ’Mom has breast cancer. Called from the doctor’s but I don’t know anything else.’ He said he was just leaving work and was coming to get me. I don’t know what was said in the training that afternoon, or what the topic was, period. Mr. Joey picked me up and I cried the entire way home. Mama J was still at the doctor’s and said she’d come over afterward.

I’ll fast forward though the doctor’s visits — they weren’t fun.

It was decided that the best course of action was a partial mastectomy. They had caught the cancer really, really early and were confident that removing one breast would stop the cancer in its tracks. Once Mama Joey made her decision, sister Joey and I set about laying out a plan for the next 6 weeks while she recovered. Sister Joey was at home living with my parents. She had just graduated and was waiting for orders to move to Italy from the Army. She had two jobs to keep her busy (and from thinking about her husband at war), but was insistent she help care for Mama J.

In the mornings, sister J would stay home and be around for Mama J. I worked less than a mile from my parents’ house, and at lunch, I’d leave and relieve sister Joey of her morning duties. She go to work and I’d telecommute from my parents’ house. I know I’ve mentioned my job isn’t really personal life-friendly when it comes to travel, but in a real crisis, they pull through. My boss and the program director said I could work from home for as long as I needed. I really appreciated that. Anyway, around 5PM-ish, my cousin, who lives with my parents, and my Dad would come home and be there with her in the evenings. I’m sure you’re wondering where Papa Joey is. He is NOT good with blood, or any kind of health stuff. He faints at the sight of blood. We thought it best not leave him alone with Mama Joey during the first few weeks.

Our care routine was in place for about 6 weeks. I was tired the whole time. I cooked, cleaned, and shopped for my parents as much as I could. I ran myself ragged because I felt bad. I got to go home every night where Mr. Joey would try to maintain some normalcy for me. He took care of me - cooking, cleaning, shopping, distracting me (in a good way). One night in bed at the end of Mama Joey’s recovery, I told him how glad I was that they caught her cancer early. I would have had to move to permanent part-time at work, and possibly move back in with my parents, or we’d have to move closer. He nodded. Then I told him (randomly) that if something like this happened again or my parents were just too old, they’d have to come live with us. He didn’t say anything — maybe because he was in shock, or maybe because I was fragile, I’m not sure. We didn’t really talk about it again until recently.

As we were working with the architect on the design of our house, we talked about building in a mother-in-law unit in the basement. He thought it would be a good way to help pay the mortgage. I said I thought it was perfect. We could rent it out now, and when our parents needed it, they could stay there. He didn’t flinch — I thought he would. I asked him what he thought about my parents (or his) living with us, and he said he was okay with it. WHAT? That’s not what I was expecting. He said he thought about it a lot the first time I mentioned it. At first he wasn’t sure about it, but then realized that I was always a big family person — it was part of the reason he loved me. He couldn’t change that. He also knew that my sister would help care for my parents and that we’d have to force my parents to live with us. They like their freedom too much and would feel like a burden.

I’m glad we didn’t have to fight about this. I don’t know what I would have done or how I would have felt if he said my parents weren’t welcome to live with us. Sister Joey and I have known for years that we wouldn’t put our parents in a nursing home unless we really couldn’t provide them with the care they needed. I don’t know if this discussion would have hurt or ended our relationship (I feel strongly about it), and I’m glad I won’t have to find out.

There are so many issues (money, work, whether to have kids or not) that couples split up about that were never discussed before the wedding. What critical conversation did you and your FI, or husband, or ex have that either brought you together or ultimately tore you apart?

P.S. Mama Joey is as healthy as ever.