Halloween always begins a series of “triggers” for me. Halloween, 2013 was the last good day. The last normal day of our lives.
You never know something is the last until it is.
November 1, 2013, I had just arrived NYC to run the marathon that weekend. Connor had flown in a few days before to spend Halloween with Craig. It was supposed to be a fun family weekend filled with broadway shows and dinners and race day.
We went to one of our favorite Cuban restaurants in The Village for dinner the night we arrived and Connor and Craig met us there. When Connor walked in I could tell he didn’t feel well.
It was later that night that he told me he didn’t feel well. I hurt all over, Mom.
The next morning we went to emergency room in NYC. And 8 hours later we left with a CD that contained Connors full body scans that were not good news. His melanoma had returned and was in every organ in his body, except his lungs and brain. It was in his bones and had even metastasized to his left eye. The ER doctors didn’t know how he was walking around. He hadn’t presented anything on the outside of his body until a few days prior, when a black freckle showed up under his eye.
The ER told us to leave NYC immediately and go to Stanford. We didn’t leave. Connor asked if we could stay until Monday which was when we were supposed to leave anyway. He didn’t say the words out loud and I didn’t say them out loud but I know he wanted to stay because he didn’t know if he would ever come back. And we also both knew that while we were there we could still pretend that everything was “normal”.
Connor said run the marathon, Mom. I didn’t run the marathon. I just wanted to be with Connor.
We stayed in NYC until November 4th. Craig had rehearsal. Connor hung out with us. We all had dinner together. Connor didn’t feel well but he tried. He had pain meds from the emergency room that were managing his pain.
November 4th Connor and I flew the 8am to SFO. We didn’t even pick up my car. We left it at SFO and cabbed it to Stanford ER. When the ER viewed his scans our room suddenly became a flurry of action. Doctors, nurses, dermotologists, surgeons, oncologists, all running in and out. By 9pm we had settled into a room and what would begin a long painful and horrifying experience. I kept begging Connor to stop googling “metastatic melanoma”.
November 5th we began to let people outside of our family know what was happening.
November 6th, 9 years ago today, we shared it on Facebook.
It’s never far from my mind. Never. It’s always tucked away in there, permanently etched in. It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up... still….what was happening on this day in 2013. I know exactly what was happening. Because it’s part of Connor and me.
Today I’m so thankful that we didn’t follow doctors instructions and stayed in NYC. I’m glad Connor had that weekend. He was so brave.
I miss him. And life carries on and on.
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