kvetching up

Entry 1 I have rearranged my cardiac rehab back to 8 a.m., after the RN I work  with called and reported someone outside of the department had inexplicably changed the appointments on Friday and some Mondays to 10 a.m. He couldn't figure out why this was so, and I had no explanation--no clue really.  I left too late on Monday, got stuck in traffic and arrived 10 minutes late. I got my cardio in, but just, barely managing to do any weight lifting. I had chest pains last night--transient really--more like a pain in the arse, scary but not worth going to the doctor about as passing as they were. There was no shooting pain down my arm, just a short, sharp, shock in my chest. If it happens again, I will consult my doctor.  I went to my GP about the late night glucose drops that have been reported by my monitor. My doctor's fill-in while she is on vacation gave me a rudimentary answer--if drmy sugars drop into the 60s or below, eat something and check again in 15 minutes. No sh...

 Entry 1.    9:09 a.m. Apparently, while I was out yesterday, Willow escaped the yard, as I have been worried about for some time.  She ran up about 4 blocks and fortunately did not get to a busy road before they managed to trick her into getting back home. The regular daily routine is to let her run out in the yard, sans leash, early in the morning, trusting the invisible fence will keep her in.  Ironically, when they chased her back to the house, they had to struggle to get her to cross the invisible fence line.  They warned us, if she is motivated she will cross it. They also said that problem is rare.  We need them to crank up the feedback on the collar, now that she is horse-sized.  Anyway, I went into the yard with them this morning, which is where the above shot was taken.  Standing in hoar frost isnt something I've done in a long time.  Willow began looking up and out of the yard, the first sign she may test the defenses, so I qu...

 Entry 1     1:39 p,m.   I am in a meeting right now. It's 30 minutes.  Jenny and Moni are out, not sure where. Jenny's fentanyl patch has kicked in, and it is quite evident. It has impacted her response time, when you talk to her, her balance, her judgment. Along with the fentanyl, the palliative care doc told her to keep taking her other meds. She was on lots of drugs before, now it is so much I am concerned.  I suggested she not use the fentanyl patch anymore, after she told me the pain in her side is unimpacted by it--the reason she is using the fentanyl patch.  I hope she will reach out to Dr. B about this, but it doesn't require his approval to get off the drug. I mentioned judgment is a big problem. You may recall that Jenny was telling her friends a week ago when she found out that additional help was coming, how she was worried about seeing Eric.  It seems to be top of mind for her, even impaired. This morning, she texted Moni a...

 Entry 1    4:16 p.m. We have Jenny home .  She is tired, weak, malnourished, in pain, but remarkably in good spirits. The surgeon did a second nerve block procedure when they did the stent procedure, but the pain persists. The C/T is clear where the pain is of anything that might be the cause. The oncologist, Doc P, who visited Jenny again last night, is baffled. Mind you, the pain is real, so real that only 20 mg. of oxy, a dose of dilaudid and muscle relaxants managed to get the pain to a tolerable level just a few minutes ago.  While at hospital, Jenny called me crying, and I hurried as fast as I could to see her--there was a slight problem with my Jeep being covered with snow that I had to address first. I had hoped that I could talk to a doctor, but none ever arrived once I got there. Jenny had already been discharged, and was just waiting for a transporter to get her downstairs. I am going to reach out to the palliative folks with whom which we have a mee...

 Entry 1     9:36 a.m. I am at work. Jenny texted me to tell me pain woke her up and she can't get out of bed. I called her and she couldn't stop crying. I tried to comfort her by acknowledging the hell she is going through and telling her I love her, but my words are about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. The suffering just keeps washing over her, and here I am, ineffectual.   I called her friend Heather, the one who just cancelled or postponed her trip to London to be around to help Jenny. She is on her way over. Leiney is with Jenny now, but it's too much to expect her to do on her own. Please let Jenny make it through her birthday.

Entry 1     10:00 a.m. The Game Is Afoot On or about Memorial Day I cut my foot with a shard of decorative glass that I stepped on in the basement while doing laundry. It fucking hurt. I had Jenny pull out the shard,  a la Androcles and the Lion.  I thought she had gotten all of it. Unfortunately, the wound didn't heal, nor did the pain subside. So, last night, after much prodding, I went to urgent care.  I couldn't bear much weight on the foot.  The x-ray showed a foreign body.  The PA who saw me decided to numb my foot and remove the debris.  Mary, Holy Mother of Jesus did the three injections into the ball of my foot hurt.  I was warned, but wasn't prepared. Fuck, who could be?  I screamed and clutched the handles of the birthing bed they had placed me on, and made sounds like I was being stabbed to death.  The needle was incredibly long, went incredibly deep into my foot.  I moved, involuntarily, from the pain of each ...

"What The Actual Fuck?" Entry 1     10:06 a.m. I reached out to the care team over the weekend via email, given Jenny's current state of pain.  I want to stress, before I describe the latest event, that this suffering is happening to all of us, not just Jenny.  She is experiencing horrible pain and lethargy.  The kids and I are dealing with our inability to help, standing by helplessly watching as she doubles over in pain, crawls on all fours, begs for death.  Her lethargy makes it hard to plan anything. So, at 10 AM, the nurse from the palliative care team calls in response to my e-mail.  They would like to see Jenny, they tell me.  I go to Jenny, who is just out of the shower and toweling off, and tell her they would like to see her at 12:30 or 1:30.  She, annoyed with me says, "I didn't know they were calling. " I remind her of the email I sent, and that she read.  She told me she has scrabble with friends today and can't go....

Entry 1 Blind Faith, God's Grace, Nothing Else Left To Impart Its after midnight. I couldn't prepare myself for the anguish, the despair of these last several days.  Another night of pain, another night of being unable to help, utterly useless. Listening to the pleas of a person who has been with you so long that she is part of you, begging for the end to come, pleading for the agony to cease, tells you she wants it all to end.   You would do anything to make her better, anything to bring relief.  And then, it happens again, the next night, and the next night, and then again a few nights later.  She suffers. She pleads. You try and comfort her to no avail. You both edge toward the realization that when this pattern stops, things will only be worse.  

Entry 1 And We'll Hate What We've Lost But We'll Love What We Find Jenny has seemed sicker the last week or so.  Her long afternoon sleep, yesterday, did end when my sister arrived for dinner.  However, Jenny had zero energy all evening. She felt terrible all night, both physically, I had to attend to all of her needs, and emotionally, she felt guilty she couldn't help.  I comforted her as best I could, and tried to assuage her feelings of guilt.  She has never been sick like this so far out from chemo. Truly. Never. She was in utter discomfort; pain in her upper abdomen, in her lower back, and in her spine.  Pain relief was a Hobson's choice.   She could take more pain killers causing more abdominal pain in the future, but offering relief now, or take no more painkillers and suffer excruciating pain now.   Between 10:30 and midnight, the agony increased.  Convincing her to take meds at around 11 and again at 11:45, I otherwise was powerless ...

  Entry 1 Never A Dull Moment Yesterday I slipped and fell in the bathtub.  Earlier that day, Jenny had taken a soaky bath in epsom salts, and I didn't know she had used the salts, which made the surface slick. I jacked my shoulder muscles preventing a concussion or worse.  It was shocking how fast I went down and also how quickly I caught myself.  If I were in my 70s, that would have been it.   This morning, we got up early and proceeded with the quest for the grail, or given our budget, the plastic Solo cup. While touring a house, I get a call from Abby.  This doesn't happen.  I answer, and she says, "First, I want to let you know I'm ok."  Never a way a parent wants to have a conversation begin with a new driver.  "Okay, I say, what's going on?"   "I am in the park at the first exit off I-90. I just got hit by a U-Haul in the 1-90 tunnel and hit the wall."  The truck had changed lanes without seeing her, despite being t...

A Heart That's Full Up Like A Landfill Chemo bye-week.  Its quiet.  I am laying on the McCrosky mattress while Jenny is in the living room watching the Friends Reunion.   If I'm honest, things are strange here.  Not bad strange, just strange. Maybe we are just a microcosm of our times.    Snippets of the actor's voices waft into this room from the tv Jenny is watching.  Mixed with this are sounds of Abby's show that is playing  in the kitchen, turned up loud enough to be heard  over the whirr of the Kitchen-Aid , and the dog's nails clicking down the hardwoods  as he leaves the room, each step  sounding like a slim branch hitting a window as it sways in the wind. Alexander cutting the Gordian knot As I lay here collecting my thoughts, Jenny texts, asking if I think she should take more pain meds. Her pain is rising again.  I tell her I do think so if she is in pain, and suggest she discuss it with the palliative care docto...

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...

[Note Accident and Emergency is what the call emergency rooms in the UK] have you been here waiting long?  with the others whose evening"s gone wrong have you been here waiting long? --from Accident and Emergency by Lucy Wainwright Roche   What a weekend.  Can I even remember all the events, I'm not sure.  So, Ill just touch on a couple of things. Yesterday Jenny and I spent the day together all around Seattle and Renton, ending up at the Jacob Lawrence Exhibition at SAM in the afternoon.  We went with Jane and Mike.  I like SAM much more than I used to, both its standing and traveling exhibits. Benedict Arnold In the evening, we continued hanging out, watching What About Bob, one of the great Bill Murray movies, with Leiney. We were out again this morning, Sunday, the two of us running around before we met with a financial advisor, who us helping us understand how to better plan for retirement, and who was impressed with what we have done so far.  T...

Why? I can't sleep. Therapy was today, well last night, given that it is now Wednesday morning.  It started out well enough, with the therapist taking our emotional temperature.  It's been two weeks since we met. "Everything is fine, "Jenny told her.  I generally concurred, and then promptly shat in the punchbowl. I reminded Jenny and informed the therapist that Jenny was very angry that I am not in the bed and not willing to give her the affection she wants.  Instead of me needing to go into explanation, the therapist took over.  She explained to Jenny that I have made it clear for months that I am not able to provide that.  I will care for her, but she is having an affair, and I am not okay with that, and have consciously uncoupled so that I could care for Jenny with less pain and hurt.  The therapist, I kid you not, suggested Jenny find two pillows and a wall and push her back against the wall while squeezing the pillows to simulate a hug. I think i...

Look at the sun sinking like a ship Look at the sun sinking like a ship Ain't that just like my heart babe When you kissed my lips ? -from Meet Me In The Morning by Bob Dylan It was a lovely Saturday.  I saw a friend yesterday. Vaccination has its benefits.  I planted seedlings in the garden, went on a long walk, spent the evening with the family watching Adventureland, and had lovely strawberry shortcake for dessert. I fell asleep early, slept soundly and dreamed of buying and rehabbing a home and office in Riverside. The office was in a Marina off Allesandro.  This is odd because Riverside had ocean front property in the dream.  Maybe the great quake finally dumped L.A. into the sea.   Jenny was suffering tremendously from pain last night.  She really wanted to make dinner and spent a couple hours at it, making biscuits for the strawberry shortcake dessert and a lovely pasta carbonara.  Unfortunately, standing on her feet, relatively stationary,...

It Hurts, It Hurts So Bad.  .  . 3:44 a.m. I walked in the door last night at just before 10 to find Jenny in a ball on the floor--between the giant ottoman and sectional--agonizing pain in her hip. I had ridden to acting with the student driver.  But, let's back up. Jenny had chemo yesterday.  Her friend Jennifer took her.  It was uneventful and she received chemo.  I, as always, prepared the house for her arrival to make sure she wanted for nothing and would be comfortable as she endures the aftermath of all that poison.  Sometime before she came home, she texted, saying the doctor suggested she try Aleve for her hip pain.  Aleve.   She asked me to pick some up for her while Abby was at acting.   During the text exchange I realized she would be alone after Abby and I left for acting.  Leiney was elsewhere and had therapy at 5 and kickboxing later, and her sister Moni had bailed on chemo because she had so much to do (Wit...

"Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!    Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,--act in the living Present!    Heart within, and God o'erhead!" from A Psalm of Life by Henry Wordsworth Longfellow Sunday is lovely.  Its close to 10 p.m.  Jenny is soaking her aching hip and back in the tub. I just returned from Safeway with Abby, who rested her forehead on my shoulder while we were there.  A banner moment, perhaps not, but such a rare occurrence it has to be acknowledged.  Jenny woke this morning with horrible pain.  Horrible. The pain woke her.  She medicated and then came to see me.   I worked in the back yard all day. Mowed, scooped, edged, pruned, turned over flower beds, added fertilizer.  Planted wildflowers, sunflowers, corn, pumpkin and a sole perennial. It was glorious.  I'm especially happy that the wind chimes hanging from the willow are now making music again.  The yard is a place that Jenny can spend with...

“And some things that I want to say Aren't survivable Or advisable Like, "Happy Birthday heroin But God, how I loved you And how I still do." -Lucy Wainwright Roche  The Ever Burgeoning Day Its Wednesday.  I want to remember these good times, from back in July 2009, in our family home.  By now things were a struggle.  Leiney was well older here than when she suggested to my mom that Jenny and I get a peace table like she used at Giddens.  Still, this was clearly a happy day.  I have to say, I wake up every day with a growing sense of doom.  I know that in a month, six months, a year or more, the foundations of this family will be shaken.  What we are experiencing now is like living in a house full of gnats.  We will be living in the center of a hornet's nest soon enough.  I would like to think that life is a farce.  But, that is true only insofar as much as The Joker is a farce. There is nothing funny or humorous about losin...

Sorrow -- Van Gogh 1882 I want to fix her. I want to find a cure, a way to stop the suffering.  The agony is real. Ceaseless. The fear corporeal. Tonight, I started receiving harrowingly sad texts as I sat in Abby's car at YTN.  My heart broke into a million pieces again and again with each message.  I found her at home in the bathtub for the third time today, abdominal cramps from the cancer leaving her ashen and bereft. It took 3 visits the the bathroom to coax her from the now tepid water, which she had been in for over an hour.  I pulled the plug, and got her up, wrapped her towel around her. Dried her off.  The sorrow in her eyes leaving knife wounds wherever they came to rest on me. Mostly, she stared vacantly into space, not resolute, not resigned, not stoic.  Lost.  Even asking to no one in particular, "Is this what it was all for?"  "Can this really be it?" "Why?"  I left her alone in our cramped bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, aft...

Jenny apparently thinks I have treated Sheila and Jennifer Murray poorly.  At least that is what she said to Sheila. Sheila doesn't give a shit, and concurs with Jenny.  This is unbelievable. Jenny said she was surprised that I care so much.  What the hell? I feel every visit to Jennifer Murray's, every text to Sheila or Jennifer or Eric   the pinche motherfucker is a betrayal. Today I saw his portrait on an electrical box.  I have a fantasy of creating a bumper sticker that says this man is cheating on his wife and putting it on the box, on the front bumper of his car. I hate that she is still seeing him and will not stop.  Its so painful. I hate that she is sick, dying in fact, and want her to be happy.  But how do I live with this?  I love her.  I want to care for her, and want her to care for me. She only complains about me. I saw a text complaining that I said I was going to, on occasion, be in the living room to work. I have a roll...