Walking Softly Toward Eternity's Woods
Entry 1 9:12 a.m. "Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made." -Edgar Allen Poe, The Masque of the Red Death Last night in therapy, we talked death. We talked life. We talked cancer. We talked and we talked. Jenny cried. It was an entire session dedicated to this topic or these topics. It was not intentional or planned, but because I brought it up at the beginning of the session. Jenny, as my last entry noted, was despondent for a time yesterday, suffering from uncontrolled pain. She expressed her desire to stop treatment. It's a regular occurrence, but hard for me. It isn't time to contemplate that, and I know she doesn't mean it. I also know that should or when she arrives at that point, I will support whatever decision she makes. In the interim, I struggle with how to deal with these declarations. My tactic is to say nothing and comfort her. It isn't pe...