She's dying. Not in a figurative sense. Not a metaphor or a philosophical note. She has cancer. We thought it was just cervical. The docs treated her for cervical. It was in her lungs too, throughout treatment. They just didn't see it until a couple weeks ago. We should have known, she was too tired, too hurt, during treatment. She didn't respond well, didn't recover as fast as they thought she should. She lost too much weight, too fast. But, they didn't see the lung cancer until they did the assessment, the one that was supposed to tell us how well she had responded to the radiation and chemo. That was when they saw the nodes. They had grown during treatment, instead of shrinking. Nearly doubled in size over two months.
So. She's actually dying. Right now. She's currently laying on the day bed, trying to sleep while the TV is on. Mythbusters. She's watching Mythbusters and dying. And everything that I've brought to the table, all my calm, all my research and study, my precision strikes on the various tiny crisis that have erupted during her fight, non of it can save her. Nothing will help her turn 47 years of age next June. Nothing I do will stop her from leaving me. Nothing puts her pain or my panic aside, even for a moment. I can make no argument. Never in my life have I ever been so anemic, so impotent. I have no violence to offer this, and I cannot stop the screaming in my head and heart.
Keep the faith Dave. Carpe diem.
ReplyDeleteI have good days and bad days. Some days it's both. The trick is not to let the bad out weigh the good, keep the truly great moments sacrosanct. It's difficult. The disease violates every part of her and I just want it to leave her alone for a few minutes, just let her rest. Let me believe we're going to be alright for a while.
ReplyDeletedo you have an active support network, or a faith-based community around you two to turn to?
ReplyDeleteHey Violet, I missed this earlier.
ReplyDeleteWe have a tremendous network of friends. Together these folks have managed to come up with meals, necessities, transportation, even paid 3 months of our rent.
To be completely candid, I leave them alone. In my head, fear is a contagion. If I give it to them, they could give it to Tati. They might not be here for her when she needs them. I have to barf this junk out in a safe place. And I have to tell you this place has done more than I ever imagined it would. Writing about Tati and the way we began, holy hell,...magic. I will be writing more. A lot more.