Seer.

By TEAM ANISSA

September 8^th, 2014

Week 8

September 8, 2014

Anissa knew she was going to have to find some time over the weekend to do nothing but just think. It was going to be difficult since we had baseball evaluations, softball practice and I had two booking on Sunday. There never seems to be enough time does there?

Saturday was Jonathan’s baseball evaluation day. I got him there when they wanted us to, only to wait another hour or so until his group was called. I warmed him up in between watching the groups ahead of him do their drills so that he’d know what to expect when it became his turn. We took a break from warm ups and while resting on the bleachers I noticed a teammate of Jonathan’s from last season. This boy lost his mom three months ago just before summer and the final playoff game of the season. She battled cancer for five years. Her story began as a breast cancer diagnosis. I spoke with the dad for a bit. We’ve been friendly since the boys were on the same team last season and even had a few mutual friends. We exchanged a few e-mails over the summer when I checked in with him to see how he was holding up and to see about possibly getting the kids together. I didn’t know his wife’s complete story, I just knew what had happened to him and his family was devastating and something no one should ever have to go through. I asked what his wife’s original diagnosis was. He said “breast cancer”. I asked at what stage she was diagnosed? He tilted his head, looked at me knowingly (even though I was wearing dark sunglasses) and asked, “Why? Do you know someone who’s been diagnosed?”

I shared Anissa’s story with him and for some reason gave more detail than I normally did when sharing this for the first time. Perhaps it was knowing what he went through that made me do this. I didn’t really think about it until after our conversation. He shared a great deal of information which when sharing this with Anissa would be of great help. Ultimately, and sadly, he said that their story was so complex and personal they couldn’t really pin down what the one, two, or ten things they did that were right or wrong over the course of the five years. He had passed that point of questioning and kept the focus on his kids and getting through this as best as he could. I’m sure it’s never an easy conversation for him to have. As he put it though, it’s become such a part of his fabric.

I came home and told Anissa about my conversation at the ball field. She cried. No doubt thinking about the kids she’s left and what they are going through. They have an older daughter around our Isabella’s age too. But something in that conversation stood out to Anissa and I believe it helped tip the scale a bit with regard to her making a decision.

I was gone most of that Sunday shooting two sessions. When I arrived home in the late afternoon, Anissa was on the phone. She was speaking with a parent from our school who has been fighting breast cancer over the past year. This woman has two children in the same grades as our two. Her daughter is in Isabella’s class and they have have bonded a bit over this. I don’t exactly what the conversation was about, but I could guess that this was another incredible and strong woman sharing her story with Anissa. Another story which would help Anissa decide what was best for her.

As parents, we tend to think we know what’s best for our kids. We like to think the decisions we make for them are the right ones. C’mon - who are we kidding? We don’t really know. We’re winging this to a degree…just like everyone else. Of course, we’re not going to make stupid decisions that will affect them negatively, but when it all comes down to it we’re simply doing the best we can, based on the best available information we have at the time. Why is it a little easier for us to make important decisions for our kids and not ourselves? We can plan all we want. But the reality is, we don’t know what the future holds. If this situation has taught us anything, it’s that we have no insight into the hand we’re dealt. All we can do is our best.

Wednesday, Anissa had a second followup visit with a few doctors at UCLA. Technically she hadn’t made a decision with regard to where and what surgery – but it was becoming clear she was leaning towards UCLA. Because scheduling surgery could take up to 4 weeks, we had a date set already. It was now a matter of committing to it.

One visit on Wednesday was to meet with the reconstructive surgeon, Dr. F. It was a good conversation and Anissa got a lot of her questions answered which gave some comfort and helped with decisions. We also got to see photos of his work. To the fellas reading this: No, it’s not at all what you would think it would be. Looking at before and after photos of faceless cancer patients is not an easy task when your wife, the one turning the pages, is about to go through this as well. Also, this is a good time to note, if you do ever find yourself in this situation don’t ask “wait, go back.” Later this day in the car to softball practice with Isabella, I asked if she had any questions about what we did at UCLA. She said, “No. You guys just met with Dr. F, right?”…. I said, “yes, and we looked at pictures of boobs”. She looked confused through the slight smile and giggle. I explained, “Hey, if you’re gonna asks a contractor to build you a new house, you’d want to see pictures of his work, right?”

After the visit with Dr. F, we made our way downstairs to radiology for a quick pre-op required chest x-ray, then a quick physical with a general physician to gain a pre-op “all clear” not before a stop at a “boutique” called Reflections (or more accurately, “Reflections: a program of the Simms/Mann-UCLA Center for Integrative Oncology”) for a post-op fitting.

Imagine walking into one of those Brighton Collectibles stores you’d find in a mall. It’s got that same vibe – only instead of seasonal jewelry, key chains and eyeglass holders for women who work the perfume section of department stores – it’s got vitamin supplements, wigs, scarves and prosthetic bras. Ok, they actually do have seasonal jewelry and key chains.

I don’t know how to explain my feelings when I watched Anissa walk into a place like this. For starters, until you or someone close to you are in this situation – you have no idea, nor would you have any reason think, that places like this exist.

The woman behind the counter told us she was the only one there that day, she was a little shorthanded and would be with us as soon as she was done with another customer. Anissa took that opportunity to excuse herself from the store while I waited inside. Anissa shared later on that if it weren’t for the other appointment we had – we probably wouldn’t have stayed. Anissa asked if we could find a place like this closer to home, but up until now, I didn’t even think that places like this existed. She knew that if we left – we’d never go back, nor would we try and find a place like this close to home.

Sure, we’ve known and accepted the reality of Anissa’s diagnosis and the potential treatment possibly involving chemotherapy, but we don’t have to deal with that part yet. We’ve been taking this one step at a time and trying not to get ahead of where we need to be. We’re not there yet. Anissa is, has been, and I know will be incredibly strong throughout all of this. And yes there are moments of anger, sadness and fear… and I know there will be more of that. I just know that walking into this boutique was incredibly difficult, not just because it was a lot to take in, but because it provided a glimpse into a future that might be and also served as a reminder of what life is for many others.