kvetching up

I think Jenny intended to punch me in the kishka tonight in therapy. What a load of horseshit. I learned several things that were of interest as we sat through her self-pity. I'm losing my patience, but it is self-pity, to be sure. I don't begrudge her sadness over her illness. But this nonsense over the words I exchanged with her abettors last week is just too much--just too much. Tonight she lied, abjectly, saying she was going to lose the help of these schlmiels because of me. Mind you, Heather was here today and no one turned into a pumpkin. Albeit, she remains a shit in my eyes. Heather spent the day with Jenny. Jennifer Murray is here tomorrow. It's all a bunch of nonsense. I think her fear of abandonment makes her just act out. With the therapist, Jenny was so oblique, never saying exactly what the issue was, I was forced to explain what happened, unapologetically. The therapist was unfazed, saying that I had felt the need to speak my truth. Jenny never mentioned she...

 Entry 1     8:35 p.m. Clearly, someone didn't get the memo on Wednesday's child. Fortune telling rhymes might have served me well. Tuesday's husband who reads his wife's phone on Wednesday will be spending much needed time alone. It was a fun day.  Let us recap the afternoon's events.  I have been stewing. It is what I do these last few days. In the last week I have had several conversations with people, specifically Heather, Jennifer and Jeanne, telling them that I do not consider the people helping Jenny carry on this affair to be friends of the family, friends of the children, or friends of mine. They are welcome to come to the house, because Jenny wants them there, but don't expect respect from me. I won't be overtly rude, but I expect you won't interact with me, nor I with you.  Also, to be clear, I told each of them, anyone abetting this affair will not be welcome at Jenny's memorial. There were definitely some thrusts and parries omitted, but...

Entry 1 11:57 p.m. Every minute becomes exponentially harder for this family.  Jenny's shortness of breath and lack of energy is a mystery the oncologist can't crack. Jenny's love for el pinché will live on long after she is gone. The teenagers thinking its too hard to open the dishwasher door invariably put their dishes in the sink adjacent to the dishwasher. Buddy has cracked the code, and now walks through the invisible fence barrier with no hesitation. I have slept alone now for 16 months. The list of things, from petty to profound, that are taxing seems to grow like black mold on drywall after a flood. Jenny did come home with a walker. It is inexplicable why it took so long, when that was the only above board task they tackled while gone for 3 hours.  The walker store, hmmm.  30 minutes away at that time of day.  I'm pretty sure, given her lack of mobility and shortness of breath, she wasn't test driving dozens of walkers, and the line to buy durable medical e...

 Entry 1     9:03 a.m. Jenny is away at VM to do blood work, in advance of the chemo regimen which she begins today. The chemotherapy is called GTX, and consists of 3 drugs: gemcitabine, a taxol derivative, and capecitabine. The capecitabine is in pill form, and is taken daily. She also receives an infusion once a week for three weeks. Then she has a bye week, no pills, no infusion. It is 12 weeks in total. The treatment regimen, which I believe I discussed in an earlier journal entry, has been around for a very long time, since before the breakthroughs that increased the 5 year life expectancy to 2.9 percent. 2.9 percent.  Gemcitabine has been the go to drug for treatment since the 1990s, but doesn't do much, truth be told. It isn't completely ineffective, but most people die at 4.5 months on the regimen, so, it doesn't do much. 5-FU with cisplatin is the wonder treatment, that works until it doesn't. The alternating between the gemcitabine regimen and the...

 Entry 1     11:16 a.m. "They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent; adders' poison  is  under their lips. Selah." -Psalm 140:3 A liar lies. You shouldn't expect them to do otherwise. A fool tries the same thing a thousand times and fails, but never walks away.  I am that fool. This morning I tried to talk to her once more. Not about the facts, initially.  I asked, again, that she not lie to me.  She began glowering.  Stuttering. Stammering. Her face turned red. Very angry. She moved from stuttering to lying. I said, "I'm not asking you to stop the affair. Just don't lie to me."  "It's not an affair, we are just friends."  I pointed out the times I knew they saw each other. I pointed out that she lied to me on September 14, when I called her at Jennifer Murray's, and I heard a male voice.  I called it a date--the term she used to describe it--and her response was about as informative as the low moan of a landline dia...

 Entry 1     12:54 a.m. West Side Story was pretty good. Jenny made it far more entertaining and albeit, worrisome, when she started hallucinating during the movie.  That was new. Her rapid weight loss, combined with the increased strength of the meds she is taking is making for very interesting times. She thought she was in the movie she told us, and you could tell sitting next to her. When Riff was killed, I thought she was dying. When Tony and Riff are in the basement of Doc's pharmacy, and Tony was gathering cans, Jenny thought she and Leiney were gathering cans.  Wild. I let her sisters know this happened, and told them if she tries to drive, I will stop her, something I was unwilling to do before now. She will kill someone. It is plain as day. Tomorrow Becky, Jenny's Trumper friend who she went to high school with and who lives in Vancouver, is coming up to see Jenny.  She is bringing her husband, who is a chef, who will cook for us. Some small s...

Entry 1 Woke up at 1.  Almost 3 now.  Can't sleep.  Looked at her CA 19-9 results.     37746.0

 Entry 1     1:49 p.m. I am taking care of the dogs, have emptied and refilled the dishwasher, managed to dress myself and packed 3 boxes, all with my arm in a sling. I tried to pack with two arms  but that was stoopid.  I absolutely love all the physical chicanery y body has played on me these last few months.  The mind-body connection is real. We hired movers. Nevertheless, we are so excited Jenny has invited people to come move boxes over between the time we close and the day of the move.  I even rented a van for a few days before moving to transport boxes.  With my arm and shoulder malfunctioning, and a possible heart problem, well, I am not sure what I should and shouldn't be doing, other than changing my diet completely. Having a new puppy has been a great occupier of my time. I have potty trained her, taught her to sit. If there were ever a custody battle, I'm the primary, hahahaha.  It thrills me. I haven't had a puppy since I wa...

Entry 1     7:57 a.m. " She's So Many Women, He Can't Find The One Who Was His Friend" I'm going to a cardiologist next week.  Even absent an MI, something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Heart problems run in the family.  Killed my uncle.  So, I now have a cardiologist.  Moving up in the world, also, just around the time I receive my AARP card.  Perfect. I am typing with one hand.  it isn't terrible.  It does allow for fewer typing errors.  I will make an appt. to get an MRI on my shoulder and back today. I feel like some old engine that's lost its driving wheel . Meanwhile, Leiney is working two jobs.  She went from camp counselor to door knocking for Amnesty this week.  12 hour days.  Outside,  Wrangling kids and engaging in political conversations. She is exhausted, but in heaven.

We went to a funeral today for the mother of the husband of Jenny's best friend Amy.  It was a sweet ceremony.  The attendees sang " It Is Well With My Soul ," a favorite protestant hymn of this atheist.  Penned in 1873 by a Chicago lawyer who first lost his wealth in the Great Chicago Fire, then his four year old son, then his four daughters on a ship that sank in the Atlantic.  He was inspired and wrote the lyrics as he neared the place the ship sank that took his girls' lives.  It puts things in perspective.  I may need to stop kvetching.  If only I had faith in something. I may be wrong, but it felt entirely like Mark, Amy's husband, was utterly rude to me when we interacted. I suspect Jenny's lies to Amy have changed the way he feels about me. We had always been warm and friendly toward one another.  Jenny went to the funeral without covering her head.  She is so brave.  I want that fortitude.   Looked at some homes last n...

I'm coming to the edge of the widest canyon My companion's dear I'm starting to question my manifest destiny My claim to this frontier I'm coming to the brink of a great disaster End just has to be near The earth spins faster, whistles right past you Whispers death in your ear Don't pretend you can't hear Don't pretend you can't hear -from Manifest by Andrew Bird The morning brings with it another day of excruciating and unremitting pain for Jenny.  The pain meds take forever to work, if they work at all. The pain, a phantom that moves around her lower extremities, is likely from her tumor. Referred pain, pain caused in one part of the body that shows up elsewhere, isn't uncommon.  She is so miserable, I just want to solve this, so she can be comfortable. Jenny has commonly, like today, awakened from pain in the dark hours,  and gone to the kitchen seeking pain relief.  This early morning that didn't work, so she arose again in the light, just a...

  And then the other shoe drops.  .  . Jenny went to Jennifer Murray's after therapy ended at 1:30.  Murray had another friend over, someone else with stage iv cancer.  When she arrived home, she was, not surprisingly given how the day has been going, morose.  She rushed to her bedroom and threw herself on her bed, sobbing.  Not unusual.  Happens weekly.  I have no answer to this.  I do my best to first give her distance, and then give her comfort.  I followed that pattern.     Prone on the bed, she tells me she wishes she were dead now.  What is the point, she asks. "I am just going to die anyway."  She then begins a list of lamentations, of which I am not unfamiliar.  She is completely overwrought as she lists them: She is going to die; there is no point; she gets no affection.  She sleeps in the bed alone.  Exeunt Geoff, who retreats back to the couch. Glum I begin entering the above, and h...