Thursday, September 21, 2006

Fat Lady Ain't Singing Yet

I told myself a lie. Yesterday, it caught up with me. Yesterday Art had a round of chemo. (The doctor didn't want to wait three weeks to begin again). A friend picked him up and at 8:15, Pallas was picked up and then I drove the boys to school.

I got home. The house was empty. It was silent. It was still. Completely caught off guard, the tears came. I was not really sure what I was crying about. Sadness? Yes. Emptiness. Yes. Lonliness. Yes. Gratitude for the daily offers of help? Most definitiely. But none of those reasons stuck. Anger came, thick and gooey like peanut butter. I cried harder. How could I believe that I could 'organize' this disease and all it's emotional ramifications away. How could I honestly try? Good grief, what control issues I have! I cried harder. I thought, in some stupid way, that if I took care of business, doctors, drugs, help, food, painting our bedroom...all of it, it would make it all better and the fear and anxiety would have no reason to rise. It would all be under control. How fuckin' stupid! How so damn stupid!

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous5:59 AM

    "The Fat Lady ain't singing" because there are a few more acts to go...
    "Stupid?" No, Kim. It's real and human. And we cry and pray for you guys because we feel helpless in not being able to better step up and aide you guys; to be a prt of the calvary that is trickling over the ridge to help you guys. It's easier to try to focus on the tangible "controlable" things than our emotions.

    It's good that you cried and got some of that thick, gooey ichor out of you. It will come back, but you will have to drain it before it drains you.

    I'll try calling you again today.
    ginnae stamanis