Free to Love

Chapter 17

Mallory

I had cancer.

More specifically, I had stage IV inflammatory breast cancer that had spread throughout my lymphatic system. The lymph nodes that worried the doctor most were the ones in my neck, closest to my brain.

When I got the news, it felt like a death sentence. I couldn't fall apart, though. If I did that, Shawn would follow. I had to stay as strong as possible for him. I saved my breakdowns for times when I was alone; the shower was my favorite place to cry.

Dr. Thomas decided that we would tackle the cancer with a very aggressive first course of chemo. Normally, a person might get treatments with the drug I was using once a week for three weeks and then get a couple weeks off to recover. He wanted to do two doses a week instead. He said that the fact that I was young and healthy meant I could take the toxic reaction that went with chemo better than someone twice my age. This would work in my favor.

I just wanted to kill the horrible ugly cancer cells that seemed determined to ruin my beautiful life.

My first chemotherapy session was the week following my diagnosis. Shawn took me to the cancer treatment center where a kind oncology nurse explained the whole process. It wasn't that complicated. I'd be given the meds through my port. I'd then stay for a bit for observation. After that I could go home. If I had a really bad reaction, I needed to call my doctor or go to the ER.

Three weeks later, I'd completed the first round. It had been pretty terrible, but as I talked to other people at the cancer center, I realized I didn't have it nearly as bad as some.

On a chemo day I'd get treatment and go home and crawl into bed. I'd usually wake up from nausea. I'd been given meds for that, which I'd take immediately. If I was lucky, I only puked a few times. Shawn would try to keep me hydrated. I swear, he followed me around with water and begged me to take sips. The day after chemo I'd feel less sick, but I'd be exhausted. I'd sleep all day. After that, things were okay until the next treatment.

My hair started to fall out as soon as I finished round one. I had my dad buzz it off for me. Shawn had offered, but he was shouldering so much already. I couldn't make him do that, too. Karen and my mom bought me a bunch of cute headscarves, and I started wearing those once my hair was gone. I had no desire to wear a wig.

My parents were staying indefinitely. I know it made it harder on Shawn to have them living with us, but we desperately needed help with the kids. Karen and Manny were helping, too.

Gracie was confused by it all. We'd told her I was sick, but my baldness upset her. I didn't look like her Mama anymore. I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. She'd alternate between being very clingy with me and wanting nothing to do with me because I'd changed so much. I understood.

We celebrated Nolan and Gracie's birthdays with our families. It was simple but happy. Nolan didn't really know any better, and Grace loved the presents she received.

The playgroup moms threw Grace a little party, which Shawn brought her to. It was good for both of them to get out and be distracted. Shawn had come home from the party with two huge bags full of meals my friends had prepared. They were frozen and could be defrosted and heated up as needed. I wrote the group a long thank you note. I could have just group-texted them, but I wanted to write out my words of gratitude.

During my brief break between round one and two of chemo, I was feeling okay. Kris and Vera visited, though they stayed in a hotel since we had a full house. I went to their hotel to hang out so that it could just be the three of us. We watched movies and ate junk food all night, giggling and acting silly like we had throughout our time at the University of Virginia. When Shawn picked me up the next morning, I was exhausted, but it had been heavenly to feel like a college kid again.

I started round two.

It hit me a bit harder. I guess my body was still weak from round one. During round two I joined an online breast cancer support group that Dr. Thomas had recommended. It was great to be able to go on the forum at any time and know someone else was there. It was always active and the people there loved giving words of encouragement. Some of the people were survivors. Others were fighting it like me. I learned that some of the older posts and replies had been from people who had lost the battle. It was painful to think about that too much.

We convinced my parents to go home for a while once I finished the second round. They needed a break, and we needed our home to ourselves. I knew they'd be back, though.

Throughout all this, our dream house was being built. Shawn got daily updates from the contractors and tried to check on the construction in person once a week. I loved it when he did this because he'd take tons of photos for me to look at. I insisted that he take video footage of a walkthrough once the house was framed and the exterior walls had gone up. He narrated the video telling me about each room.

Shawn was a rock throughout it all. I knew him better than I knew myself, so I understood that this was destroying him inside. He was a worrier by nature. He kept those worries locked down and stayed 100% positive for me all the time. Every day he told me about miracle cases of IBC that were far worse than mine that had been cured, or as they say in the cancer world, were in remission. He'd show me pictures of healthy happy people who had survived. He'd find statistics that proved that the survival rate was climbing all the time. Sometimes I wondered if he was trying to convince me that I had good odds, or if he was trying to convince himself.

Shawn doubled-down on parenting during my treatment. He had to, since I was frequently out of commission, but he never complained. He spent every minute he wasn't taking care of me, focused on Gracie and Nolan. Thankfully Grace had finally potty trained right before my diagnosis. It certainly made things easier to only have one child in diapers.

I worried about my husband's career. I knew that he had decided to delay the album. Shawn never batted an eye about this, though it had to be hard to know he had a completed album ready to release. He'd also taken a hiatus from social media.

He was frequently stalked by paparazzi outside our condo. They were hell bent on getting the scoop on the mysterious family illness. His fans were so much more respectful. In fact, he told me he'd been recognized several times when he was out with the kids and his fans didn't approach him.

After a particularly scary paparazzi encounter with the children, I told him to release a second statement explaining that I had breast cancer. He contacted Andrew and the word was put out. The paparazzi were still loitering around our condo, but they no longer yelled questions at him. On the occasions they saw me in the car as we were exiting our building, they ignored us. I was glad since I really didn't need my friends and family in the U.S. to see photos of me on social media and in online news rags.