March 4, 2009

Art is back in the hospital.

I knew it would happen, its just well....the 1:00 am phone call to 911 was not part of the plan. The call to a dear friend to come stay with the kids was not part of the plan. The passing out. Been there, done that. Was so not part of the plan!

Poor guy.

Massive indigestion for an hour.

Followed by vomiting.

Followed by fainting and waking up to the confusion of me, saying "Honey? Honey?"

There was no panic. I knew what needed to happen.

I was the premidonna on the phone.

"Um, is there any way they take him to Cedar Sinai?"

"Oh and please, no sirens. My children are asleep and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Thanks so much for coming! Um, could you turn your radio down, please."

And I wanted to say "Can you walk on your tip toes? My kids will surely notice the clunking of your heavy boots." And "Fellows, please. Let's keep it at a whisper." (Ever notice, men don't whisper!)

They couldn't take us to Cedars, however, after they checked him out, they did offer to put him in the car for me.

The 10 (major freeway route in LA) is delightful at 2 am.

The ER room was even delightful. No gun shot wounds, heart aches or fall out from bar fights.

At 4 am the tested him.

Lying down. Blood pressure 98/60

Sitting up Blood pressure 90/60

Standing Blood pressure never gotten cuase he started to pass out again.

Congratulations honey! You get to to stay!

And for a parting gift, you Kim Hamer get this lovely bag with "Patient Belongings" written on it. Your absolute favorite!

What it should say is:

Caution:

Person carrying this bag is not stable.

Their loved one has just been admitted to the hospital.

To add to their anguish, we have inserted this little string, masquarading as a handle,

that will dig into their hand when they pick up the bag. Giving them phsyical discomfort to go along with their emotional comfort.

Please stand back at least 20 feet.

Another day in our lives. This one with humor, a touch of saddness and whole lot of resignation. This is our life but it is a life. I am grateful.

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March 2, 2009

“Where should I go?” Art asks.

He’s standing in the living room, on his crutches. Chemo fog having lifted a bit this morning.

I look at him and start to cry. This morning, I can’t figure that out for myself and now I need to do it for you?

I slam my office door.

I slam my head against the wall.

Great….I just hurt a sick man. Wow….now I feel f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c!

The guilt rises and as I open the door and see his face, the anger takes over.

I have to choose between his needs and mine.

Feels like I’ve been doing that for a really long time. His needs always come first. The duty-fucking-ful wife.

And now, when I’d like to be able to choose, with love, to care for him, I find myself resentful and full of anger...again!

I reach in, groping for the peace, the calm, the will to get through one more day. To get through this moment.

And all I feel is dry, grainy sand. My well is empty.

“You can’t give from the well if the well is empty.” I made up that saying to help new mothers. Damn, now I have to pay attention.

My well is empty, bone dry. Been living on sludge and grim, scraping the residue from the walls, fooling myself into believing that it will be enough and I’ll find the water source tomorrow. Scarlet O’Hara and I. Tomorrow.

Now, I have no idea on how to get the waters to flow again. I don’t have the energy to figure it out. No idea what I need. No idea what will help. No idea. And I’m drowning

But this time I know I won’t drown. My ancestors, chained to the innards of a boat, lying in their own filth, not enough slack or room to sit up, only to come to a place that was more harsh. They survived. They watched their spouses come near to death too. Others turned to them and said “Where should I go?”

The answer that echoes inside of me? The answer I imagine some of them had the courage to give?

“I don’t know. Just hold my hand. We'll find a place.”

After I write this, I go to him, and extend my hand. Thankfully, he takes it and together we end up in a place.

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I could use some comments tonight (0r tomorrow). Fill my well.

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March 1, 2009

"What's it like to be on chemo?" I ask. Yesterday was his last day of a three day chemo regiment. He is IN the fatigue. He asks me to come and sit with him. "What can I do for you?" "Just stay here and keep the confusion away." he responded.

What's it like to be on chemo? I asked him.

A: I imagine a lot of weird little things, like I'll be asleep and think I have to sleep in this particular fold in the sheet or in a very particular spot on the bed.

There are these little things zipping and racing around in the dark. They're not bad, they're good. They just zip around.

K: Right. One of the side effects of one of drugs is hallucinations. Do you see them now? In the light?

A: Well yeah. If I look down or out the corners of my eyes I can see them. Oh man, my head. It doesn't ring, it's just fuzzy. It's like it's covered in lots and lots of blankets that I can see through. It's like being in a fish bowl.

K: What else makes this so hard for you?

A: The sleeping interrupts. I'll be having a thought and like then I'm asleep. I can't focus for very long. Well, you know, I can't read or watch a movie.

K: How does your body feel?

A: Oh God, my body. (He groans with a smile.) Heavy. It feels heavy, draggy, doesn't want to move. It's like it doesn't know what to do. It's like everything is passing me by. I can't do anything about it. Not in a bad way but it's just flying past.

Getting dressed...I have to think about for a while before I can do it. Oh man. I have to think about the act of sitting up. Like right now I can't think about it cause I'd just fall asleep. I can't, like, I can't focus.

K: Do you like it when the kids come in here?

A: I love it when anyone comes in becuase its a distraction.

K: A distraction from what?

A: Just this fog. This fog that I'm in. Oh man.

K: What?

A: All I want to do is to lounge here with you and talk and it feels like I can't do that.

There is a pause. I don't respond. His last words are said with his eyes closed. 10 seconds later, he is alseep again.

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Helping Hands Tip

Do their laundry on a specific day, once a week. Fold and put it away too!

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