These are journal entries from the beginning of our odyssey. I will spend the next few entries catching up to where we are now.
Today at 1:30 pm I thought “He’s dying.”
At 4:30 pm, I thought, “He’ll live.”
At 5:27 pm, I began to prepare myself to be a widow.
At 5:42 pm I was making plans for us to return to France in 2010.
At 9:31 pm, after reading Quantum Healing by Deepak Chopra, I was making plans to move Art and kids to Boston for alternative treatment.
At 11:19 pm, I can’t see through the confusion.
I want to stand on a side, plant my feet - hips width apart, cross my arms and declare “This is what I know to be true!”
The truth is I know nothing. Well….shit.
Art’s continues to be more lucid after his chemo treatment last week. His white blood cell count is .02….meaning the man has nothing to fight off any disease with.
When we visit, we need to put on gowns and gloves.
He’s lost a lot of weight, not just weight but muscle mass. His legs look like those of Somolian refugees, only the WAY wrong color.
I took Ezra to visit him. Ezra was so stoically happy to see him.
After the visit, I picked him up and carried him the down the long hall to the elevator.
His cousin Mary came for a visit today. They grew up down the street from each other. Her energy brightened Art.
I was jealous.
“Why can’t I do that for him, too.” I thought.
Then I remembered. I am playing the wife of the cancer patient/martyr.
Worried, weight of the world, unable to find time for herself but stoic role
I am giggling.
I am good at that role!
I am tired of that role.
I am weary.
Weary trumps energy much of my time.
How to shift that, is the question I will sleep on tonight.
His O2 saturation rate is at 96% which is good when you look at where it was!
Pallas said “Is daddy going to die?”
I surprised myself with my calm response. No hysterics, no tears. I stopped and looked at her and said
“I don’t know.”
She said she was scared.
I said I was too.
I said, “The best we can do right now is pray and love daddy a lot.
She said “If he dies, will you remarry?”
“Sweetheart,” I said, trying not to hug her to death, “let’s focus on daddy who happens to still be alive.”
She smiled and said “Well, I think you should marry a brown person next time!”
I was laughing too hard to ask why.
I so love my children
My middle sister arrives tomorrow! My take-control-organizing queen sister is coming. I will sleep well tonight.
Helping Hands Tip #102
Commit to taking out their garbage on garbage day for one month.