He won't eat. He keeps throwing up and he is tired, and he says his stomach feels "tight." I fantasize about forcing open his jaws and pouring smoothies into his throat by using a funnel. I wonder if I can get him to drink something in his sleep. I buy yogurt and soup and watermelon. I eat what he won't eat. I eat my pain. I eat my stress. If I eat, maybe he will remember to. I wonder when the last time we had a somewhat normal meal was, was it two weeks ago? But even that meal wasn't normal.
I can't make him eat. Even my nagging has gone too far. But I can't bear watching him waste away. I can't bear this.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Back to abnormal
I'm back from a business trip, and it is like returning to a nightmare. I hadn't recognized how draining and stressful the daily life with cancer was. It was just normal. And after spending 5 days away from it I resent going back to it. The grief of every day is exhausting. My frustration with everything and everyone is exhausting. I cried last night because I was looking at old pictures, and I could not remember the days they represented. So many days, so many memories that I have failed to keep.
To make it worse, K is worse. He finished up some radiation while I was gone, and he is exhausted. The Tarceva is making him nauseous, so he has to be on Zofran again. He has lost more weight. His eyes are yellower. He said that his blood number were moving in the right direction, but it seems like our life is moving in the wrong one.
When he first started Tarceva, he went into the hospital because his liver was starting to fail. It turned out he was on too many drugs that clear through the liver. He got on a much better pain management regimen, and that next week was amazing. He played with our son, he had a lot of mental energy. We booked our trip to Tahiti and made other plans for the future.
The contrast is scaring me. I'm extremely concerned that we are acting like we have months and months but we actually only have weeks.
I told my work that I can't travel again. I hate that I must submit to this. But I can't have these events hanging over me. The last two times K was in the hospital right before them, I can't be counted on. Eventually cancer will take everything, even my job.
To make it worse, K is worse. He finished up some radiation while I was gone, and he is exhausted. The Tarceva is making him nauseous, so he has to be on Zofran again. He has lost more weight. His eyes are yellower. He said that his blood number were moving in the right direction, but it seems like our life is moving in the wrong one.
When he first started Tarceva, he went into the hospital because his liver was starting to fail. It turned out he was on too many drugs that clear through the liver. He got on a much better pain management regimen, and that next week was amazing. He played with our son, he had a lot of mental energy. We booked our trip to Tahiti and made other plans for the future.
The contrast is scaring me. I'm extremely concerned that we are acting like we have months and months but we actually only have weeks.
I told my work that I can't travel again. I hate that I must submit to this. But I can't have these events hanging over me. The last two times K was in the hospital right before them, I can't be counted on. Eventually cancer will take everything, even my job.
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