Empathy For The Bedeviled

 Entry 1   2:13 p.m.

Jenny's friend Jeanne, who apparently thinks I am terrible to Jenny, (I've read the texts) is here visiting. I have always liked her.  She is one of the therapist friends who was giving Jenny advice after I found out about the affair.

First, the good news: The pain is gone. The celiac plexus (also known as the solar plexus) nerve block procedure working more efficiently and expeditiously than expected. Jenny seemed quite pleased with this when I checked on her early this morning. 

Jenny woke up severely blue with terrible anxiety.  I coaxed her up, made her eggs, and got her meds for her. Leiney and she watched television--how many episodes of Jane the Virgin are there? It feels like years worth of binging material.  Leiney left before 10:30 to go work in Olympia for 5 days, and Jenny retreated to her bed.  I know she did, because almost as soon as I heard Leiney leave, I heard Jenny sobbing and rushed downstairs to see what was the matter, only to discover she was in her room. I went to her. She was inconsolable, I could see.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her leg and she told me she was wracked with anxiety and unable to function knowing she is going to die. I comforted her as best I could, kept her company, spoke words intended to sooth. But she knows she is going to die, and she hasn't made peace with it--I'm not sure I could. Suggesting Xanax to address the anxiety, I acknowledged that even 1/2 a tablet would knock her out. She didn't want that. I  suggested and then got her to smoke some pot as an alternative to taking Xanax, which would have knocked her out. Willow jumped up on the bed, and uncharacteristically snuggled Jenny, and then rolled on her back so Jenny could rub her belly.  It was very sweet, and worked at least some magic, as Jenny's mood did seem to marginally improve. I gave Jenny her new vape pen, and she took a couple pulls on that, coughed, and relaxed. I left the room to go to a meeting.

About noon, after my 11 o'clock meeting.

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