kvetching up

 Entry 1.    5:11 p.m. Up since 4:33. Tinnitus ringing in my ear, drowning out the stillness. 

 Entry 1     8:42 a.m.  I am in my office. Many people around, all from my team, waiting for the staff meeting to start. I am excited to gtfo of here.  The commute took 45 minutes--I can do it in 10 on a Sunday.  I don't miss coming to the office. I am glad to see other human beings that I work with, IRL, however.  I showered, shaved and brushed my hair this morning, a chore I do less frequently at home since the advent of COVID-19 work from home mandates. I am surprised I could tame the wild shock of hair on my head given that the last time it was cut the leaves had not even started to change color, nor the night become so much longer that it was noticeable.  I am filled with a sense of dread today for what is coming. I looked at the horizon, filled with Seattle skyscrapers as I was driving in, and was struck by the indifference of the universe . Dansul Mortii, Guy Marchand, 1485. I think having our own danse macabre in the form of this canc...

 Entry 1     4:04 p.m.  After 6 days off, I'm looking forward to work so I can have a break. Mike helped me stand the tree up last night. Today the lights went on. I was about 400 short of a complete strand of lights, a living metaphor for my sanity. Tonight, after dinner and Advent, we will decorate the tree. I am tired. Chicken tacos for the omnivores and smart ground tacos for those who don't eat meat are on the dinner menu. This makes me happy. What is going to stay with me for a long time after this is done, is how bone tired I am. Jenny lost another lb. yesterday.  She has been eating small, high caloric meals, several times a day, to see if we can work around the lack of appetite. She isn't taking her megesterol, the appetite stimulant, for reasons I can't fathom or explain. I ask about it, and she shrugs it off.  Yesterday was so hard, but now I have an explanation. Jenny's ACUPUNCTURIST told her to cut back on her pain meds.  This, at the...

 Entry 1     6:11 a.m. Dogs are whining. I'm drinking yesterday's coffee--still warm in the Back when Buddy  had a little Marlon Brando flair. decanter--trying to have a few moments of peace in the dark.  I love these dogs. Yesterday, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, they slept until 8:20. It truly is the season of magic. They would have slept longer today if my bladder hadn't forced me out of bed after being awake for an hour fighting the urge to get up. Christmas tree  shopping today. This should be fun. I am sad Leiney won't be with us for the first time in 18 years, as we pick out a tree. She has to work. But the days of The Santa Train, Santa's lap and handwritten letters to Santa are consigned to the black hole of remembering now. There is something powerful about being alone, awake in the wee small hours of the morning , Crate mates. sitting in the dark. I felt it as a kid, when I would go out each morning at 4 a.m. to deliver the PI and...

Das Gravy Boot. Technical Difficulties, Pls Stand By. Entry 3.    4:40 Glitchy app today. I have posted 3x and the first two went *poof.*  Jenny is not doing well. She ate a full meal last night, but lost it all later.  Today, she has been barely functional. I did get her to Macy's Furniture Store, but it was all she could do to walk the store. She has been in repose the rest of the day. We went to Macy's trying to find a sideboard.  We looked elsewhere, but eventually settled on Ikea--it was an emergency. Our house does not have space to display all of our Christmas gifts. Ikea had one we could order and pick up curbside. Nothing special, but it will do in a pinch..  We have 10 bins, and several boxes of things, 31 years of accumulated junk. Given Jenny's ill-health, everything and everyone is going all-out to make this holiday memorable. It's more for the kids than Jenny, if you think about it. So Abby, in her stubbornness and lack of faith in my mechanic...

Thanksgiving Bounty. 147 lbs.  Jenny dropped another lb. I was downstairs on the sectional, proud of myself for preparing the turkey and stuffing, and dealing with an elderly dog's digestive challenges--you really don't want to know--when I heard sniffling behind me. It was Jenny upset about her weight. Her cancer.  She is fearful this is her last Thanksgiving, she said.   Leiney was at the store getting herself a hot cocoa and me a latte. I thought it was so sweet that she was so insistent, until I heard the garage door open and went and saw her driving Jenny's car away. I can't begrudge her ulterior motives, bless her for getting me más cafe.   Jenny is in a better space now.  28 people are expected this afternoon.  There is much to do before Family card ♦️♠️ game. then, but I am soaking first. May you have a wonderful Thanksgiving surrounded by friends, family, and dogs (where applicable). 

  Entry 1     5:16 p.m. Jenny weighs 148.1 lbs., she told me this morning. I took it well, in front of her. After a morning of excruciating pain, she went to fetch Leiney from Bellingham.  Rocked from her rapid weight loss, I went to Safeway. Ostensibly there to get cream cheese for some concoction Abby is making, I instead engaged in retail therapy, buying holiday signifiers like a poinsettia, a pie for tomorrow, vodka for the lavender drinks I will make, cardamom bitters, Lifesaver books, and so on and so forth. I cried while shopping. That hasn't happened for a time, like ever. Last night in tandem therapy Jenny expressed upset that I told her in last week's session that whether she stops seeing Eric or not is immaterial. I am not interested in rapprochement, in rebuilding. She is right, I did say that and have been saying it for 15 months. This is nothing new.  I didn't suddenly get angry or upset, instead I had an overwhelming sense of sadness at her s...

 Entry 1.  8:59 a.m. My shit sleeping habits have returned and coupled with my early rising. So, asleep at 2, up at 530.  Dogs didn't wake for another hour. I spent the gift of time planning the day. It's the day our housecleaner comes and he was arriving at 8:00 a.m., an hour early.  So, the plan was already made for me.I I had to go clean. I find it humorous that when you have a house cleaner you have to clean the house in advance.  We are a much neater family with Leiney in Bellingham and Abby is down in her lair.   Thanksgiving, Stanwood 2017 . Imagine knowing you are living on borrowed time. When I say borrowed time, I don't mean the kind most of us have. We all know we will die some day, maybe even today. But the way most of us deal with it is to live in denial, to put it out of our minds. Contrast that with living with a terminal illness, one which you know should have killed you a year ago. Every morning, you awakened by horrible abdominal pain...

Entry 1   9:25 a.m. Yesterday, Abby and I spent the afternoon together again. This is good because, for the second day in a row, we were out. We went to Old Burien, a place that I have regrettably neglected. Abby said it reminded her of a downtown on a small island. She is thinking Vashon, I would wager, where she has spent some time. We shopped for Advent and Christmas gifts for her mother and Leiney. Most everything was closed. It was Sunday. Even so, we did hit two great shops in the 1/3 mile stretch, a bookstore and some gift shop which I was skeptical about, but am happy to say helped us almost complete my Advent shopping.  Abby was hilarious the whole time, and actually laughed at a terrible pun I made. She never, and really it's understandable, laughs at my puns. But she had a  deep genuine laugh. So, when I can make the teenager laugh, I feel successful.  Typical teenager that Abby is, she was not dressed for the cold. As she has done since she was about...

 Entry 1.  9:54 a.m. And you get a cocktail, and you get a cocktail, and you get a cocktail. . . Today I am off to Total Wine to get alcohol for our Thanksgiving celebration. With more than 2 dozen people heading our way, and only one minor, I am glad that they can set aside their culinary differences and converge at the bar. My Limoncello is still steeping, and I will find a cocktail of sorts to make with that. I tend to drink either scotch or Manhattans. If you know me, you know that I drink about as often as Trump admits he is wrong about anything. I will inventory the neglected liquor cabinet, and go from there. Jenny is doing alright. Her pump comes off this afternoon. I don't know if she has seen her numbers, but she told me quietly this morning, just before Leiney came downstairs after waking, that she is scared. It sounded to me, having known her for years, the fear wasn't just general, "I have terminal cancer and am scared" fear. We will talk after Leiney is ...

Up at 5:00 a.m. with the muttlings. Let them out. Gave them treats when they came back inside. Cleaned the kitchen, made coffee, chopped the bread for  Thanksgiving stuffing, fed the dogs, checked on Abby and then Jenny. Then, I went to work. At work, I had  3 separate bargaining sessions. At 3:30, I switched the meeting to my phone from my computer and participated in bargaining for the next 2 hours and a half, as I drove to Bellingham in Friday night rush hour traffic.  Got Leiney, went to Haagens to shop for advent gifts, took Leiney to dinner. We got home about 9:00. I fetched the mail, let the dogs out again, stayed with Willow outside while she sniffed every square inch of the lower patio. Came in, said goodnight to the girls and Jenny then came upstairs. As I finished disrobing, the nightly pawing came at my door. Willow and Buddy visited for 10 minutes, until Willow, as per usual, left of her own volition. If the night follows form, I will escort him out in about...

Entry 1 11/18/21   Virginia Mason stops measuring at 132k. Jenny's CA 19-9 is above 132k. I hate all of this.

 Entry 1 8:20 a.m. The Persistence of Memory. Dali, 1931. I am at my desk. At work. Not kidding. We are having an in-person staff meeting, or so I thought. I am the only one on the floor right now, 40 minutes early for the meeting. Checking the calendar, it says its a teams meeting, with no room attached. I was at the meeting when the interim director announced this would be an in-person meeting. He isn't the best at communicating, so if this changed, I can at least say I had a day at the office. Also, if it wasn't COVID, I could go check on Jenny, who is shortly to arrive at VM for chemotherapy. So, the in-person is now on the 29th. I remember the agreement now that I am sitting in my desk chair.  This is an off-day for me. I have been scattered like my mother would get at times since last night, when Abby didn't arrive home on time from her acting gig. Her phone went straight to VM. She didn't answer my texts. She is generally very prompt at arriving home on time. Eve...

 Entry 1 10:07 a.m. I work all day, every day. It's how I make my money. I do the chores. Its what I do. What I don't do is take Jenny's behemoth for a walk each day, as she needs. I am up with her each morning, tending to her for several hours each morning, and then intermittently for the rest of my waking hours.  This morning, at 5:30, I stood on my stoop with a hot cup of coffee as the dogs, mostly Willow, cavorted through the yard, did their business and sniffed and snuffled everything in site for 15 minutes. It was her first frost . Buddy went back in after 5 minutes, as a good old man dog should. Willow, exploring her first frost, wasn't interested in returning. I let them out again, because in the morning they go out over and again, around 6. In between, I prepared their morning treats. This is daily. It allows me to get some peace for a very few minutes while I drink my coffee. This first treat is a dog bone in a puzzle. One for each. That took a very short time...

I don't know what kind of world you want to live in, but when I learned that Dido's Lament was originally performed by children for children, well, I am glad that wasn't my education. I suppose it may have been intended as a cautionary tale for wayward women of the 17th century, as the indoctrination into the patriarchy always starts young. But, wow.  When I lived in Manhattan, I must have owned 20 different versions of Dido and Aeneas by Nathaniel Dance-Holland. Dido's Lament (and more than 5 versions of Gloomy Sunday). It is the most arresting aria. Jessye Norman's version is my favorite. She also was a friend of Derrick's, my professor, who had Norman's autographed picture hanging in our office. I am not a student of opera, and had no knowledge of Henry Purcell nor English opera until hearing Norman sing. Hmm. Go figure.  This is going somewhere.  Maybe.  Dido, bereft that her beloved left her, builds a funeral pyre and throws herself on it. The Gods, Ven...

I went radio silent , you may have noticed. I started drafting a journal entry a few times, only to check myself. Thanks to those who have reached out. I am fine. I had individual therapy on Friday. Even my therapist is bored with my life. We ended early at 40 minutes. It gave me pause.  It prompted me to reflect on what I am doing right now, both in my interior thoughts, and those I express in my journal. While my situation is hard, incredibly so, I am struck now by the obsessive-compulsiveness, the single-mindedness I show. I am too focused on the wrong things, on being wronged, on the sadness of losing Jenny, on our relationship, our interactions, the epistemology of our words, vis a vis one another. And more. It's incredibly narcissistic. Solipsistic. Tedious. Boring. Why read this dreck? Why write it?  Mind you, the day to day travelogue entries, we went here, we did this. all mundane run-of-the-mill stuff, is almost interesting because it changes--there is action. The m...

Entry 1     8:46 a.m.  Ani DiFranco was my favorite artist for several years in the 1990s. Not so much anymore, but there was a time.  In 1997 she released a double-live CD, Living In Clip.  Clipping is distortion from an amplifier--the cause of which isn't important here.  Of one thing I am certain. Since August of last year, I have been living in clip--everything has been and remains distorted, doubly so.  That I am living in a world made distorted by terminal illness and an ongoing affair, was again last night made clear in our tandem therapy.  I offer a huzzah for the therapist who two weeks in a row saw a side of Jenny that I think she is finally understanding. It was very much a discussion about death and dying, magic and loss. Magic because we talked about God. Loss, because we talked about the end. In an incredibly smart move, I had 3 fingers of scotch right as the meeting started, in a high ball glass.  It was enough to keep m...

Entry 1 4:00 a.m. I'm not sleeping . " Boots of Spanish Leather " on heavy rotation in my head.  After arriving home last night, I hid away in the office with a glass of scotch. I read journal articles and worked on yesterday's journal entry. I wasn't brooding, exactly. I was just overwhelmed. This morning I am awake, sleepy and unable to get back to sleep. Jenny is on my mind. I am very worried about her. I can't stand this suffering. What comes next is worse. We are riding the train to destination fucked, with lots of stops for misery and regret along the way. After a year and a quarter, I am spent. I can't fathom how Jenny feels. One blessing, the dogs are asleep. Damn it. They beckon. Buddy is as subtle as a hard on in stretch polyester slacks.

 Entry 1     4:00 p.m. I thought that the dog alarm clock wake up at 4:37 a.m. was going to be the nadir of my day. The Gods must be laughing. At just after 9 a.m. Leiney calls.  She is on I-5, near Mt. Vernon, having just spun out and hit another car and then bouncing into the cable fence in the median.  She stopped facing the wrong way.  Despite going over 60 miles an hour, and slamming into another car, her airbags did not deploy.  The good news is she wasn't injured, nor was the driver in the other car.   I drove to Mt. Vernon, Jenny along for the ride. On the way, Jenny was on and off the phone with Leiney.  Jenny and Leiney must have embraced for 10-15 minutes when we got to the Mt. Vernon SBUX, where the staties dropped her off. I learned that when the police arrived, they suggested she drive it the car to a collision repair place. She was in no shape to do that. Nor was the car. The tow-truck driver had arrived, and told t...

Jenny was away at a party from early afternoon well into the evening yesterday.  She spent time with Leiney and I when she got home, watching a television show. She was really on her phone about the entire time. She did eventually put the phone down. She was so spent after the long day, and especially since she is still hooked to the chemo pump, that she fell asleep holding the phone. We got her to bed, and Leiney and I hung out for a couple more hours watching television. Today, both girls were out--Abby had acting and Leiney worked.  Just after Abby got home, Jenny took a three hour nap.  Her chemo pump didn't come off until 5:30, and that along with poor sleep wiped her out. I woke her at 5.  She got up around 5:30 or so, giving her enough time to take the pump off before going to see The Eagles this evening with Jennifer, the same person whose party she attended yesterday. She did have lunch with Abby today, which isn't nothing. Tonight, I took the girls to ...

11/3/2021  Entry 1     10:13 a.m.  How do you balance the need to care for one who is dying and who is carrying on an affair with protecting yourself? How can one maintain a good rapport with the terminally ill Lotharia when you have empathy and sympathy for the person's suffering but antipathy for the cheating behavior (and all of its accompanying baroque garish behavior) at the same time? In this yin-yang state of love and hate, there is much gray. I am a person that sees nuance, and takes to heart what one of my professor's said time and again, that a person is far more than just the sum of the bad things they have done.  I understand that. I love Jenny. I do. I always will. And, I see the good in her quite often, although I seem to reserve my time here to kvetching. She is more than just the bad things she does, is more than the sum of the parts of her personality as directed toward me.   I spend my days worrying about her health. I spend my d...

Entry 1     11:55 a.m. Carcinoembryonic Antigen, or CEA is one of the two key biomarkers measured in the diagnosis, prognosis, and treatment of pancreatic adenocarcinoma (PDAC). Between August 12 and November 4, 2021 a 363% increase has occurred. Between the last measurement on October 21, and November 4 is a 30.6% increase. Any measurement above 5 ng/ML is generally indicative of cancer. Continuing increases are indicative of tumor growth. Work is so busy, I won't likely have time to enter more today.

Today   Compare and contrast.

I need a vacation. I think I will take one soon. Go to the sunny climes of Southern California, and find a pool to lay by, and someone to bring me drinks every 15 minutes.  Styron wrote Darkness Visible, about his battle with depression.  I am thinking of writing Madness Invisible, about a man married to someone who is stark raving mad, but only he can see it. Think "The Emperor's New Clothes" in reverse.   Poster on The Lower East Side,  summer of 2017. Tonight, as in, right now, she is angry with me because I won't solve her car problem. I could solve her car problem. I could go out, get the paperwork out of the glove box for her warranty to see if the tires are covered. She insists they always are. I am not sure how she knows it, but she seems to know it. Because of this, she wants to have her car towed to Lynnwood Honda to get her tire fixed. Ok. I am not cheap, and not a spendthrift. But, we have chemo on Thursday, and our primary vehicle has a flat. My car...

 Entry 1     5:09 p.m. October 30, 2021 Dealing with racism, it's a daily thing.  My therapist often wants to discuss race with me, ancillary to therapy. I may make a statement in passing, and she wants to challenge it on empirical, not therapeutic grounds. I don't ever bring race up as a topic for discussion. She doesn't get it, and frankly, I don't want to work in the salt mines relying on her clouded miner's light to shine  on something that she doesn't understand. I won't engage in such discussions with my therapist, who I adore, but who thinks she can debate me despite my actual expertise in the area, Having been taught by and then working as a teaching fellow in in  critical race theory for the founder of the discipline, I have some small knowledge of the field. Today, my therapist tried to engage in and then shut down such a discussion, when I kept knocking down her obtuse and ill-informed (and frankly, cliché and uninteresting) opinion that it ...