This blog entry is about my feelings today because it is the second anniversary of the surgery date. I am sad today. This entry is not intended to generate sympathy in any way, shape form or fashion. If you chose to read this, you may cry. I have. This is my blog about my feelings and my blog title is at a standstill right now. I am not moving on. I am remembering.
It does not seem like two years have passed but they have. In ways it seems like twenty two and in ways just yesterday. I still hear you walk around the house, I still smell your cologne, I still hear the TV remote fall to the floor. But it's not you, it is just a memory. Two years ago at the time I am writing this entry, I was getting to visit you for the first time after surgery. You were awake, smiling even. I had the picture of the grandbabies we made before surgery placed at your bedside. There were many, many people waiting to see you. Some of your sisters (Sue, Beverly and Roger, Teresa and Tom) were there, Nick was there, Brother Steven and Kim, Brother David and Betty, Keith, Bobbie Joe, Jimmy and Norma with Aidan, Kathy and Sandy.....all of us waiting to see you. And in the ICU were old friends of mine, one was taking care of you and he said everyone could see you for a few minutes a couple at a time--so we did. You wanted to talk to them, but he wanted you to rest.
After the last visit of the night, I came back home for the night. And those friends listed above stayed so I would not have to drive that distance alone. Dr. Hampf had said you had a glio so I looked it up because I couldn't remember everything I had known about it. I didn't like what I read. I prayed for it to be a stage III so at least treatment might give us another year or two.
You spent the rest of Tuesday in the ICU, all of Wednesday and that night in there and they let me stay with you that night. That was something they rarely did. I was grateful. You got to move out on Thursday. We took walks, but you were a little short of breath. Everything looked good though. You had no hair. I teased you about being bald.
Friday morning came. Dr. Hampf came in and sat down. He had difficulty coming out with the diagnosis. Then he said it. Stage IV. He said with chemo and radiation we might get a year. Without both therapies, 3 to 6 months would be a long time. He let us come home with all your records. Appointment after appointment would be made. The long journey was just beginning. You told him if you could not be cured you only wanted to be comfortable and no heroics. He said he would abide by your wishes. You made me promise that too. Your speech was good. We got all your stuff loaded and I brought you home. Over the next few weeks you thought you could do anything you wanted. Never mind that you had just had major brain surgery. I let you do what you wanted as long as I knew you were safe at it. The month of December is a blur. Near the end of December neighbors lost their daughter in a terrible accident just a few days from Christmas Eve. We went to the funeral home on December 23. Then we went to the Mexican restaurant to eat before church. On the way home from church, I got deathly ill (food poisoning verses stomach virus--just the thoughts of a burrito make me ill even now). I was blessed to get call on Christmas Day since I was still sick! We spent a short time together at my parents then you went on to your sisters. That is where you wanted to be. I was a bit selfish. I was so afraid it would be your last Christmas and I wanted you to spend it with me. I didn't say a word to you though. I let you go on over there and after presents at my parents house, I came on to Teresa's.
Your appointment with the Oncologist did not go as we had hoped. Radiation would start just before New Year's eve. There would be no Chemotherapy available because of other problems you had. The anemia would prevent you from receiving chemo. He said the Chemo would likely kill you before the cancer would. Dr. Smith said a couple more months even with radiation would be a long time. I am not sure to this day that you heard that. And I am glad you didn't because you had fight in you. If you'd heard that, you might not have.
Church services were special to you as long as you could get to them. And you testified. And I will never forget those. They are part of what keeps me going.
I love all y'all
To be continued................
