Partly, it's the constant flow of visitors -- Nancy got here Wednesday (last Wednesday, now -- she left today), Carl left Thursday, Pat and Kerry arrived Friday, and Mom, Dad, Katie, Ellen, Sara, Colleen and Ann were here yesterday. There was mulching and raking and cooking and cleaning and we even managed to get my office at work ready for the new paint and carpet job next week. There are also the visits by Dede, Sam, Seth, Lee, Marcy, Janet and JJ (and I'm sure I've forgotten a couple). I got to chat with everyone, I think, and everybody hung out with dp at one time or another, but it still kind of feels like it all goes on around us.
There's also the weirdness of waiting. Behind us is a little over a year of battling with cancer -- four surgeries, three months of chemo, and forty-one radiation treatments, and ahead, the imminent death of a woman who's meant a lot to all of us. Right now, though, we're in between, hanging out and reading Harry Potter (We're getting close to the end of book 6 now!)
Finally, there's the concept of jumping in the dungpit -- once you're in there, it's not as terrible as it looks from the outside. I remember trying to empathize with what I thought at the time was the horror of others who've been in similar situations, but now that I'm there, I'm reminded of what Sam said when he moved to Cedar Rapids -- "It's not that bad." dp is not in pain -- there was a bad headache on Monday, but that seems to have been a one-day deal. She's also not zonked out on painkillers -- we've learned that aside from being available when you push it, the PCA is also doling out 1 mg/hour as a baseline, but she's pretty used to that now. Some days are better than others, but every day is still worthwhile.
There are a bunch of photos showing the highly-presentable Woods, but for today, all you get is the the chemo-cap models...
6 comments:
Just wanted to let you al know that I got home safely-1:00 AM my time.
Funny you should mention that it all goes on around you. I think that's what I was reacting to the other night, when I asked if you two were tired and ready for us to go. We were sitting there talking about our lives and activities on one side of the room, and a few feet away you and Diana were talking quietly, participating in this truly intimate event, that we are part of and yet not part of. The love of your life is dying, peacefully, thank God, but we're sitting there talking about the weather and kayaks and legal writs.
What a strange mix of the profound and the mundane!
And then there's the idea that equates living in Cedar Rapids with dying of cancer. That's one for the Chamber of Commerce.
I can only imagine the waiting for you. Although, Diana is peaceful and comfortable knowing what is coming is horrible. I went through it with Mom and it was only for 8hrs. It sounds like you are making the most of the moments you have with Diana. You have a wonderful support network. Continue to count each day and each person as a blessing. You are in my thoughts.
After what you and Cranium man said I don't think Cedar Rapids has moved up on places most wanting to visit.
Molly Berg
I spoke with Kevin last night and offered to come down and hang. He respectfully declined, saying it had been a long day and that he felt Diana was probably going soon. He reported that she was awake on and off all day and herself. He sounded tired and fine, overall.
Olive is there and it's quiet. We have all said what there is to say. Or not said it, and that's fine, too.
What happens happens in its own time. Peace to all of you. s.
Thanks for the update Sam. Kevin, tell dp I love her, and you, too.
For more than 30 years Diana has supported and encouraged me in whatever my endeavor. I am honored she has called me her sister and friend. I seriously don't want to imagine, even now, my life without her. My love goes with her as she moves on. I hope it will help light the way for her. I hope I have enough of her in me to light my way as well.
Love and best wishes to us all.
Post a Comment