42.

We spent the end of his 42nd birthday laying in bed eating ice cream. I could tell you it was good. Good in a way ben and jerry only understand. Pfish food good. We did a complete post-mortem on the doctor's appointment that I didn't get to go to. White count at 170,000 is not good. We knew that. The tests start Monday and don't stop. It's like a carousel at a carnival. The one that scares the littles with it's music and constant revolutions. He's going to have some hard choices to make once they tell him what his options are. I already know what he will chose. And I know I won't like it. I told him that whatever we find out next week I'll support his decisions. It's not easy to let someone you love go, ya know. But I can't force him deeper into hell because I'm selfish. The truth is I'm not ready to let him go. I doubt I'll ever be. But it's time to grow up and see that it's not about me anymore. It never really was. Maybe it is the way it was always supposed to be.