And Watching For Pigs On The Wing

If You Didn't Care What Happened To Me

Jenny was too tired, too weak and in too much pain to accompany Abby and me on the hunt.  The best laid plans.  .  .and all of that.  So, Abby and I went and did recon all over South Seattle.  From Thornton Creek/Northgate to Judkins Park to South Beacon, we met our realtor and explored. We found no gold, lots of dross, and a bit of something in-between.  I called Jenny from each place, giving her my impression of each.

After we finished, Abby and I went and dropped a lot of money on gear for the dog, and grabbed lunch at Sprouts, a chain grocery store I used to frequent in my California days and which has established a beachhead at 130th and Aurora.

Jenny managed to get up around 1145 and go to lunch with friends.  She was weak and tired the whole time, I could tell, hearing it in her voice every time I called.  She came home and was feeling low.  Sad and angry her eyes were, her mien sad and quiet. 

Her anxiety built through the afternoon, such  that when I was making dinner, she said she was close to having a panic attack.  

Every few days Jenny will remind me that no one can understand what she is going through.  I think she means no one she knows.  Or no one who hasn't had a terminal disease. Or someone who has been diagnosed with PDAC.  All are true.  And it explains why I am so poor at comforting her.  But, also, I may be the next best thing for her in that regard. I am watching her go through every emotion, every phase.

You Know That I Care What Happens To You

The pain came again tonight, Jenny writhing, nervously pacing, moaning in agony.  I finally convinced her to seek pain relief. Then I got her to take the walk she was too sapped to take earlier.  She came home in a better state, and after a few minutes went peacefully to bed.  

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