Turning Double Tres

I turned 33 years of age last week.  For some reason, this seems like a very fun age.  I like the double threes.  But, it was not such a fun birthday and the current circumstances do not predict a super fun year.  I remind myself that maybe it’s not all about fun, but more about being content with the little moments that bring joy to each day.

The weekend before my birthday, my parents came down from Alma with gifts and massive amounts of food.  Ron was not feeling very well and spent the first part of the day sleeping, which gave me a chance to catch up with my folks and brother.  The sun was out and we did not have any agenda.  It was a nice quiet day at home, filled with eating, presents, Apples to Apples, and getting some help with household chores.  When Ron did wake up, my brother and I took the dogs out for a walk down the road, with me pushing Ron in his wheelchair.  This was the first time we tried the wheelchair plus dogs together.  To feel the sun and get fresh air, even if it was a bit chilly, was a joy for Ron and I was so happy to have him join us.  I miss having him on my regular dog walks.  Plus, it is never this nice around my birthday, so being outside in February and not being completely covered from head to toe in winter gear was a real bonus.  Sunday, Ron wanted to go for another dog walk, so we went into town and met Dustin at a paved park.  For the most part, he navigated the three dogs and I pushed Ron.  We still have a long ways to go for the dogs to behave well enough for me to walk two of them and push Ron, but I hold out hope that it could happen.  And, I want to put it out there that if there are any friends who would ever want to meet us and hold a dog or two (admittedly not the best behaved in busy parks with other dogs, but definitely not the worst, either), let me know and I will dial you up if we ever do another impromptu walk and need an extra handler. 

The Monday before my birthday was what has become the new routine.  I worked from home in the morning and took Ron to the hospital for his paracentesis in the afternoon.  When we got home, it was anything but routine.  My supervisor from work drove out to the house with her partner.  They brought with them a feast that was completely unexpected – a HUGE meal from Saffron, my favorite Indian restaurant, which a few coworkers had chipped in to get for Ron and I.  Plus, they brought out the most delicious birthday cake I have ever eaten.  And, to top it all off, many of my coworkers went in together to get me a very generous gift card to Amazon.com!  Now, I can supply the Kindle Fire that Ron got for me for my birthday with a steady stream of books.  I could not believe the kindness of my coworkers.  Initially, I reacted with shock.  Later, I cried.  Such good people I work with!

Ron was excited about the birthday food and had gone over two days without vomiting, so he partook of the Saffron, in small amounts.  Then he decided to have some cake.  He tasted it and said, “This is the best cake I ever had.  It is worth whatever comes next.”  Well . . . after a few minutes, the cake hit his belly and it was just too rich.  He was writhing in pain (from what he can only describe as “burning belly” – which was happening with everything he ate last week, especially rich foods), dosing himself with the liquid morphine hospice has given him, crying, and shouting, “No cake is worth this amount of pain!”  He eventually threw up and felt much better, though we were both disappointed that he broke a 60 hour puke-free streak we had been enjoying.  Then he passed out for the evening, which is pretty typical once he takes morphine and the anti-nausea meds.

My actual birthday, Tuesday, started out nice.  I slept in until 8am, having taken the day off from work.  I took my time drinking chai tea with honey, reading the Facebook, and eating a piece of that fantastic cake for breakfast.  I got a sweet hug from Ron when he woke up and then I headed out to get a hair cut.  My hairdresser found out it was my birthday, so she gave me an extra cute birthday style.  I left feeling so full of energy and wondering what the day would bring . . . maybe Ron and I would go to a weekday matinee, or go out to lunch or dinner. 

Then, I got home and reality sunk in.  Ron’s hospital bed and oxygen were delivered.  There is just something tremendously sad about turning 33 and having your hair done up nice and then coming home to learn how to properly administer oxygen to your dying boyfriend.  After that was all set up in the living room, so Ron can be right in the heart of the home, his hospice nurse came out.  And by the time everyone left the home in the early afternoon, Ron and I were both worn out.  He still offered that we could go out, but there were no movies we really wanted to see and I didn’t really feel like eating out anymore.  I just felt sad and I couldn’t stop crying.  Somehow all the people calling to wish me happy birthday just made me feel worse.  Because I wanted to be happy.  But I couldn’t.  I just couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried.  Eventually, I stopped answering my phone and instead just listened to messages while feeling guilty about feeling so sad.  Yet, how could I not feel sad?  It was just this weird conundrum of a day that should be happy . . . heck, the whole catch phrase is “happy birthday,” right? . . . but it really felt so sad.  Because Ron is really dying.  And I don’t want him to be.  But he is, and there is nothing I can do to save him.  The hospital bed, while so necessary and I am so glad Ron has it because he is much more comfortable and able to sleep now, is this very visual reminder of what we are facing.

The rest of the work week was the usual stress of balancing too much.  During the week, I talked to Ron’s hospice nurse about where things are at and where they are headed and when I should do what.  She recommended I take time off work to be with Ron . . . and to make sure I don’t have any regrets later.  She also recommended I do this as soon as possible.  Of course, no one knows when Ron will go.  No one can truly estimate his drive to be alive.  He could surprise everyone and already has far exceeded the time that they gave him when he was first diagnosed.  But, he has not been doing well lately and unless something big changes, time seems to be running out. 

I realized in thinking about all of this that I really do need to take time off.  I am constantly worried and anxious.  I am not sleeping well.  My brain is so full of appointments, scheduling visitors, things I need to pick up, and other logistical stuff that I am forgetting simple things at work.  I find myself unable to concentrate.  I start to question the meaning of it all.  When I meet or talk to the individuals I work with, I fear that I will make the wrong clinical judgment and it will negatively impact them, or that I will lose it and wind up crying in front of them or yelling at them or doing something else that is very uncharacteristic of myself.  I realized I have been holding on by a very thin thread.  At work, I keep my smile on.  I am cheerful when people talk to me.  When they ask how Ron is, I tell them honestly, but I do so in this detached way.  It is just not healthy for me to separate how I am feeling from how I am acting to this extent.  I realized I am becoming so detached from the really painful, uncomfortable things that I feel deep down, the sadness and the grief, that I am becoming afraid to slow down and feel them at all, even when I am not at work.  Yet I need to feel.  It is part of the process.  I just cannot keep holding everything in check like this.  I need to be me.  I need to feel how I feel without the workplace censoring.  I need to admit that this is seriously the saddest and most painful thing I have ever experienced and I am terrified of what comes next.  I need to accept that I am depressed about what is happening to me and Ron.  And while it makes sense that I feel this way, that it doesn’t make it any easier to experience. 

So, I talked to HR and talked to my supervisors and I will take time off, starting this Wednesday.  Tomorrow is my last day at work for awhile.  It feels so strange, and of course I am still worrying, because I am so far behind and not at all ready and I don’t see how I can just let it all go.  But, I need to and I will, for now.  And my team will step in and pick up my slack and I am so grateful for them.  I feel bad that I am making more work for everyone.  Yet I know without any doubt that if it were any of them in my shoes, I would be doing the same thing.  This is what a team is.  We all care about and take care of one another.  Again, I have to say, I could not be blessed with better coworkers.  They are just incredible in offering support, both to help out at work and to be there for Ron and I personally.

Ron had a very rough week last week.  He was throwing up daily and had no appetite.  He was weak and he was hurt.  Wednesday, he called off a meeting with the hospice chaplain because he felt so bad.  Thursday, he did not even have the energy to visit with his mother or sister after his paracentesis.  Friday, he was still vomiting, but felt up to meeting with a new social worker from hospice.  He also felt up to having our friends, Kara and Dan, over to visit.  They braved the snowy roads and brought us dinner and warm-hearted conversation on a cold winter night.  Saturday, Ron was finally feeling a little more energetic and he was able to eat some solid food and keep it down.  He especially cheered up when a car full of our Alma friends arrived.  We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting it up with Mitch, Cassandra, and Jessica.  When they left in a snow storm to head back home, Ron said he was sad to see them go, even though he knew he needed to rest.  And rest he did, sleeping the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday, even while our friends Kim and Chris came over for a short visit to check-in and drop off cookies.  It was a really good weekend of seeing friends.  And in between visitors, Ron and I got to spend a little bit of time snuggling, both on the couch and in his hospital bed, which I have to say is really comfy.  J

Whew - that was a lot of catch up!  Now that we are back up to speed and given that I should have more time on my hands from being out of work, I hope to update a bit more regularly, so stay tuned.