Annus Horribilis

It has been a horrible year.  Starting in late August 2013, my 75-year-old father, the Mysterious Septuagenarian, developed a massive chest infection that required him to have brutal, barbaric chest surgery to clear out all the gunk, then be on IV antibiotics for weeks.  He was in the hospital for 11 days, and we weren't sure if he would ever "get it back".  He did, through hard work requiring great effort, and he is back to climbing fourteeners and being his normal self.  Thank God, and I say that reverently!  But it was a horrible few weeks.

Then, in December 2013, I found out I had a malignant tumor in my sigmoid colon.  Right before Christmas, which is a terrible time to find out you have cancer because everyone is off work and getting test results, let alone doctor's appointments, takes a long time.  I finally had surgery to remove the tumor in January, but as it had spread to a lymph node, I had to have six months of oral chemotherapy which finally ended in late August of 2014.  I tolerated the chemo pills pretty well, but it was still a big deal.  I am still awaiting an appointment for a scan and a 'scope to see if we got all the cancer out or if I'm going to need additional treatment.

Next, in mid-August, my mother-in-law sickened from complications of diabetes, was put in home hospice, and ended up passing away in early September.  She was a strong woman who raised four children successfully and kept the family going after her husband suffered a crippling stroke and then succumbed a few years later to lung cancer.  It's been very hard on my husband and his siblings, because she was their rock and her last year of dementia and decline was very traumatic for all of them.

Finally, last week my oldest had an ectopic pregnancy scare, which thankfully ended up being just a cyst, but it scared us all to death and she suffered, not just from the physical pain but also from the emotional turmoil, as she and her husband really want a baby.

So, August 2014 to September 2014 have been very difficult for the family.  My eight-year-old has had to go through all this as well.  Somehow we all manage to get up in the morning and keep going, but it has been hard, so hard.  Other things have happened that aren't blogosphere fodder but have worsened the burdens we have carried.  It has been a true Annus Horribilis.

But in the good news, my eight year old is healthy and adjusting to the rigors of third grade, I still have a job, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my scans will be clear and I will be deemed an offical Cancer Survivor. 

Begone, Annus Horribilis.  We need some happy news around here. 

This is a picture of my cat sleeping in a dog cave bed.