I can’t say it has been easy
to write about someone else’s journey, which is why I am trying to emphasize it
from my point of view. I don’t
understand what it is like to have your voice go up and octave over night and
try to cough the next morning without enough power behind it to clear your
throat. All for no apparent reason,
then carry on like nothing happened.
But I’m trying. Lately I’ve
had some conversations with Miki to understand what is motivating another pain
pill or why she can’t do more than 3 reps of a seemingly easy exercise from the
physical therapist. That is why
this trip includes both of us, but she’s in the driver’s seat. She is the one that understands what
she feels through the steering wheel as she rounds a corner and feels the road
as she accelerates ahead. She is
the one that hears a slight change in the pitch of the engine and decides to
pull over to look under the hood.
But to be in the pit crew, I have to know what is going on in order to
support the effort. Okay, enough
comparisons of Miki to a car…
It’s MY BIRTHDAY today!!!
Enough about me! Now back to her. Actually, as friends and family have
sent their birthday wishes my way, I received some pretty sweet gifts today,
not to mention some sweet treats left on our front porch early this morning
(thank you very much, you know who you are). For example, Miki has felt less of the debilitating pain lately
that has kept her horizontal for almost two months. This means less pain meds and in actuality she is off all
meds now except one that is to protect her kidneys during chemo. That in itself is a pretty nice gift,
don’t you think? She also had more
of a twinkle in her energy today, before it got siphoned off through the day’s
activities. That was a pretty nice
wrapping on the gift. And to top
it off…we showered together! Okay,
bring the heat down a bit. I got
to wash her hair. Her new
hair! She cut her almost waist
length locks, partly in anticipation of losing her hair (if that happens). Now that it is within a few inches of
her scalp, it was much easier to lather it up and get my fingers through it
than the last time when it was 10x longer. And in order to keep most of the water within the confines
of the shower, I joined her. For
more details, it will cost you!
That was a nice big bow on the gift I got for my birthday.
 |
| Before scissors... |
 |
| ...in anticipation. |
Oh, I almost forgot…the THUD
from above. Do you recall I was
waiting for the other shoe to drop? I was referring to what side effects
may rear their ugly heads during this process. It appears so far, that it is pure exhaustion. When you can’t hold your head up for
more than a few minutes at a time…when you think you can’t make it to the
bathroom and back before sundown (and its morning)…or you have to sit down on
the top step of the staircase and scoot down one at a time…you are utterly
exhausted. Miki has become the
poster child for abso-friggin’-lute exhaustion. Its not pretty, its not attractive, its not glamorous, but
her hair is. The side effects from
chemo and radiation could be a lot worse, so I count this as another gift.
So unless the idiom referred
to above uses a three-legged person as it’s inspiration, Miki’s side effects to
treatment seem to be minimal at this point and we hope there are no other shoes
to drop. As birthdays go, it was a
significant one. Not because I am
another year younger, but we spent another year together.
My Zen from Home: Wow. When Miki and I went to her radiation
treatment today, we settled into the waiting area with approximately 8 chairs,
4 on opposite sides of this small room facing each other and a small TV mounted
on the end wall. The first two
visits, I think we saw one other person waiting their turn to be zapped. There must have been a blue light
special today, because it was almost standing room only. There were two wheel chairs, a gurney, a
woman with a walker, and 6 of the 8 chairs filled. Granted, 4 of the people there were supporting those there
for treatment, but 2 wheel chairs, a walker and a gurney. It was like a puzzle when the furthest
one from the door was called to get their treatment. But that is not the point. The point is, that we were almost literally face to face
with other cancer patients and their supporters (if they had one). We
are now those people.
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