Make the World Go Away

 Entry 1     7:06 p.m.

She doesn't have much, if any, of her faculties left. Those moments of lucidity that do come, bring with it the screaming fear of loss and death. She is too strong for the cancer to take her quickly. Instead, she is haunted by demons, and fantasies that make no sense. I can't say what the point of life is, and I can't say this isn't living, because she is breathing, putting together subjects, verbs, and direct objects in correct order. However, what comes out of her mouth makes no sense, nevertheless. It is killing me. She mostly recognizes me, but this morning was calling me Joe Circus, an appellation I suspect I have earned. 

I got a two hour massage today. I could barely communicate with the person who beat the shit out of my body, but she did such a good job I gave her a 40 dollar tip. It is the first time in at least 3 years that I have had a massage. It is also the first time since COVID that I have allowed a stranger to be so close to me. It was weird. 

Jenny's sweetness has been so refreshing, it is the Jenny I loved back 30 years ago, before kids, before living together, before we broke our marriage. I love the kindness she has within her, the sweetness and light. And it comes pouring out, it is genuine and unadulterated, childlike.

My sister-in-law told me that her friend the hospice doctor--assigned to Jenny not coincidentally--has said she is young enough that death will come slowly. She could be in this state for several days or a couple of weeks. What kind of universe is this that it allows such suffering? It certainly isn't one guided by a benevolent God, who takes active interest in his creation.  If I am wrong, we will need to organize when we get where we are going to get better working conditions.

As an atheist, I have become more malleable and tolerant of people with beliefs that involve some higher power. I am even welcoming the spiritual counselor to return for a third time tomorrow. I missed his visit today, which wasn't terrible.  Yesterday, when I told Jenny he was coming, she flipped me the bird and grimaced. It was hilarious, she was channeling my mother.

On Saturday, when I understood clearly she is dying, I called Murray and told her to have el pinché call Jenny. She is lost, delusional, confused, and scared. If I were there, I would want the person I love the most in the world with me or at least talking to me.  He called, and I left the room for 30 minutes. Elvis hadn't completely left the building then, but he was backstage, looking for the rear entrance. I have been clear that the piece of shit isn't welcome here. I won't change my mind. But, I love her enough to know that this small gesture will help her be more at ease, which is all I have ever wanted.

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