If you have read from the beginning of this story, you would know that both Mark and I are coffee lovers.
We use to slip away between Sunday School class and service to 7-11 for coffee. (Sorry Pastor Nate).
One day, I knew our relationship was getting serious when Mark started taking me to Starbucks. The one we use to go to has since been closed, moving to a larger building. Funny, that building is now a five minute walk from our apartment.
I remember when Mark went to Iraq the first time. I use to get a pound of coffee from Starbucks to send him and sometimes, it was just given to me outright in thanks for his service. Even now, I from time to time get a pound of coffee to send him and even recieve my latte on the house.
I know many people knock Starbucks, the price mostly, but it has many sweet memories for me. How often Mark and I would just sit and talk over coffee without feeling rushed or hurried. Starbucks is just a wonderful place to meet folk, read, study or just comfort a friend.
Even now, when Mark calls from Iraq, he is drinking a cup of the Starbucks coffee I had send him. And I am enjoying a cup along with him.
Think I will make some right now...
It was quite a week.
Mark realizing that there was something indeed wrong and the worse part; it was cancer.
As I think back, Mark was in the beginning stages of the cancer when he came home for R&R in April.
His being over tired was more than just coming home from Iraq. He first notice the lump on his neck in June and reported it.
Same report was given when he came home, but no one thought it serious.
The fight just to get him back on activty duty so he could get paid while being treated is a story in itself and since it isn't a pretty one, I shall not share it. Let's just say I did a lot of praying.
I remember talking to Mark one morning. At the time the doctor thought he was stage 3 or 4. Since I use to take care of Cancer patients, he had lots of questions. I was sick; for I knew with stage 3 or 4 he would have a major fight on his hands. He asked if it was stage 5.
I didn't want to anwer.
Stage 5 is when I show up at the door; as the hospic nurse. I assured him I didn't think he was that far for he would be a lot sicker.
But inside, my heart was breaking.
That Friday, Mark had his surgery. Traffic was awful, but I made it to the hosptial just before he went down. I kissed his forehead and told him I loved him.
He needed to know.
Mark told me he loved me too.
Hours later, I ran into the doctor we had seem earlier in the week. The operation was over and Mark was in recovery, The tissue send down and rushed tested. It was indeed non-hopkin lymoha and thankfully it did not spread for the liver was clean. So the stage will be downstaged.
When I went uspstairs, I learned that two of the doctors had spoken to Mark's parnets. But none of the doctors had not told them any of what they told me. They were not told their son had cancer.
And it wasn't my place to tell them.