An Unexpected Way Out

She had asked him to come with her today.  He could’ve said no, if she would have demanded, or screamed and cried like some women, he would have.  But not Jill, not his wife, that wasn’t how she operated. With her lip quivering she told him her results were back and the doctor wanted to talk to her.  She had asked him to come with her, squared her shoulders and went back to cooking dinner without another word.  That was last night.  Last night when Greg knew he could never tell her now what he had been dying to say.

What he known for months was he wanted out.  He wanted excitement, passion, and mystery.  There wasn’t anyone else.  He wasn’t that guy, after all.  He was just a guy who was no longer in love with his plain wife.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t been a good partner, mother to their children, and friend, she had; she just never surprised him anymore.  She was, well boring and Greg felt like he was suffocating.  Sitting in the doctors office he had no words of encouragement for her.  All he could focus on was how much he hated the way doctors offices smelled and how he felt like he was being crushed from all sides.

As the doctor walked in Greg took her hand in his.  This was the moment of truth.  The doctor cleared his throat and said, “Jill the biopsy came back and I’m sorry but you have ovarian cancer.  There’s a couple of treatment options, but first I need to know more about your lifestyle, activities, diet, and your schedule.”

Greg sat there in shock, as he listened to the quiet and dignified woman he thought he knew talk about her life.  He had no idea she’d been training for a marathon, and the new way she was cooking was called “clean eating.”  What the heck is Crossfit and when had she taken that up?  How had she found time to help at the crisis pregnancy center downtown and take care of the house and kids?  Had she told him any of this, or had she given up talking to him when he’d quit seeing her?  He looked over and saw her, maybe for the first time in years.  Her blonde hair that framed her slender face, her green eyes that shone as she spoke with passion about what was important to her.  She wasn’t quite 40 yet but she had a mature beauty he hadn’t seen until that moment, the way she sat legs crossed, shoulders back, chin up, ready to take on this challenge.

“Well Mrs. Abrams, it sounds like you have a great support system and a very healthy and active lifestyle.  I’m going to recommend a full hysterectomy.  It doesn’t look like the cancer has spread yet, we’ve caught it early.  I’m confident with the surgery you should be cancer free.  Of course we will want to do some follow up, but if the surgery goes well you shouldn’t need any further treatment. ”

The doctor interrupted Greg’s thoughts.  Before he could process what he had just been said, he heard Jill ask, without hesitation, “When can we schedule the surgery?”  She looked over at him, smiled and squeezed his hand.  Greg sat in awe watching this stranger he was married to schedule her appointment with a sense of peace, he couldn’t believe.

Walking out of the building to the car he knew something new deep in his heart.  He still wanted out; he wanted out of his self-centered misery.  He didn’t know for sure how long they would have each other, but he planned to spend the rest of his life getting to know the incredible woman he married.  He shook his head when he realized the mystery, passion, and excitement he’d been craving was in front of him the whole time.  He vowed to himself to truly see her every day for the rest of their lives.  With more butterflies in his stomach than he had driving away from the church the day they were first married, he pulled away from the doctors office.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s