Everything I See Returns To You Somehow

Entry 1

Blind Faith, God's Grace, Nothing Else Left To Impart

Its after midnight. I couldn't prepare myself for the anguish, the despair of these last several days.  Another night of pain, another night of being unable to help, utterly useless. Listening to the pleas of a person who has been with you so long that she is part of you, begging for the end to come, pleading for the agony to cease, tells you she wants it all to end.  

You would do anything to make her better, anything to bring relief.  And then, it happens again, the next night, and the next night, and then again a few nights later.  She suffers. She pleads. You try and comfort her to no avail. You both edge toward the realization that when this pattern stops, things will only be worse.  

All the magical thinking, all the wishful thinking will not change the outcome. I listen to her apologize

every day for the suffering, for the illness.  I ask her to stop apologizing. She blames herself for the progression of the disease, tells you she isn't trying hard enough. You tell her this isn't true, that no one could work harder than she has, than she is.  The hazard of all the bullshit power of positive thinking her cancer  coach feeds her is the inevitable self-blame which arises as the disease worsens.  

And you see her life suddenly unmoored, drifting, moving in and out with the tide, the anchor falling away. The once steady, planned, and checklist driven life that provided predictability and certainty, that made life seem controlled, now pockmarked, hole-riven and sinking.  

Entry 2

It's 3:23.  I am in so much pain, the pulled muscles may be more than that.  I can't sleep, pain killers dulled the pain a bit, but not much.  My life is a three-ring circus.