It is Christmas. You don't like Christmas. In fact, the more I wanted to celebrate, the more you disliked it. There were times when I felt you didn't want to do Christmas at all. I think it is somewhat natural for people become less and less interested in it as they get older. Maybe it's their children leaving home and the excitement of children in the house diminishing. Maybe it's fatigue with the whole thing. Maybe it's feeling manipulated by retailers and a materialistic society. Whatever the case was with you, you didn't enjoy it. I can imagine you spent this day gambling if you are feeling well, or watching TV if you are feeling ill.
I woke at 6:20 this morning and decided it was not acceptable to be awake that early on Christmas. I pulled a pillow over my head, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Then I started to have a dream about you. In it you had been in some kind of care facility. It didn't look like a hospital; it looked more like a stately old home with many bedrooms. You were being discharged. You looked sweet and vulnerable, like the person you are when you are on your best behavior. I was there. But you weren't going home with me. You were going home with another woman. She was prettier, more energetic and had a better personality than I. She and I chatted. She was very nice. I could see why you would want to go with her rather than with me.
Suddenly Carmi was there, and it was not you who was being released, but my dad. Carmi was going home with us. You had already gone home with that other woman.
Then the dream ended and I awoke feeling sad, lonely, abandoned, rejected, and isolated. Why did I have this dream on Christmas? Who was that other woman? Was she your gambling addiction? Is she better equipped to take care of you than I? Why did I feel so unempowered in the dream? There is a part of me that's confused about why you chose a divorce after we had been together for so long. Because you had chosen divorce over protecting me, I have a sad person inside of me who feels rejected.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Memorial
You have been very ill for about a month now. Next week you'll turn 66. Last year you went on Medicare and it has been a magic bullet for you. It has enabled you to seek and receive medical treatment anywhere you want. You have gone to virtually every medical facility in your area. And here too. You have just spent several days in the hospital. They tried some procedures to stop your internal bleeding. Did they succeed? I don't know. But you are alive and, as far as I know, you are winning the battle against pancreatic cancer.
I DO know that my friend and colleague doesn't have the same access to medical care but has been resourceful in getting into medical trials and experimental treatments. She has valiantly battled her cancer off and on for the past seven years. This week she turned 45 and it was probably her last birthday. The day before the doctors told her the last PET scan was not good. It showed her tumors multiplying and growing at an alarming rate. She began a new treatment, a trial, but they say she doesn't have the time left. This treatment takes several months to build up in the body and do its magic. She doesn't have the luxury of time required. They say she is dying. I say, "Unacceptable!"
I DO know that my lovely friend's good, kind, generous and altruistic husband left this earth last week, a victim of metastatic cancer, being mercifully granted a peaceful death, not the usual death of a cancer patient, drowning in watery lungs. He had ushered so many people out of this world in his work with hospice, God must have granted him mercy. He deserved it. He asked for a hamburger, fell to sleep, and died without suffering. But he was a good man who had dedicated the last fifteen years or so of his life to serving others and treating the homeless and the terminally ill. He didn't have access to much medical care. He had one choice: Kaiser. He couldn't go elsewhere. He took their one-size-fits-all treatment. It metastasized. He died. He was remembered fondly at the service this week. What a loss. Unacceptable.
I DO know that my friend and colleague doesn't have the same access to medical care but has been resourceful in getting into medical trials and experimental treatments. She has valiantly battled her cancer off and on for the past seven years. This week she turned 45 and it was probably her last birthday. The day before the doctors told her the last PET scan was not good. It showed her tumors multiplying and growing at an alarming rate. She began a new treatment, a trial, but they say she doesn't have the time left. This treatment takes several months to build up in the body and do its magic. She doesn't have the luxury of time required. They say she is dying. I say, "Unacceptable!"
I DO know that my lovely friend's good, kind, generous and altruistic husband left this earth last week, a victim of metastatic cancer, being mercifully granted a peaceful death, not the usual death of a cancer patient, drowning in watery lungs. He had ushered so many people out of this world in his work with hospice, God must have granted him mercy. He deserved it. He asked for a hamburger, fell to sleep, and died without suffering. But he was a good man who had dedicated the last fifteen years or so of his life to serving others and treating the homeless and the terminally ill. He didn't have access to much medical care. He had one choice: Kaiser. He couldn't go elsewhere. He took their one-size-fits-all treatment. It metastasized. He died. He was remembered fondly at the service this week. What a loss. Unacceptable.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Bleeding
Laura and Kyle are being attentive to you. Even though you live over 100 miles away, those sweet kids are driving out and spending time with you, running your errands, cleaning your house, washing your sheets. You live in a large place but you don't like it there. You want a settlement with me so you can buy yourself a nice house with a view. I'd like a nice house with a view too.
You need blood transfusions. There's blood in your stools. You are very weak and you can't hold down much of the food you eat. You had asked if we could take care of the dogs for a couple of days while you go to the hospital and get some tests to try and figure out the source of your bleeding. You were going to bring the dogs by on Monday. On Sunday evening you called Kyle. You said you were too weak to drive yourself in to town. Would he come out on a bus in the morning and drive you in? He's a good guy; he said yes.
Kyle and Laura left the house around six. She drove him downtown. He had to be at the station an hour before his bus left. He got out to the desert at 11:00. Where were you? You had gone to the hospital out there to get a transfusion. You would be picking him up at about two or three in the afternoon. Laura said no. He wasn't going to go running out there to help you and then sit around and wait four hours for you to pick him up. The whole 'dropping of everything' ' rushing out to accommodate you' which in a normal person's world would be a big effort, one that would be appreciated by most of the rest of the world, was staying true to your form. You ask someone to make a sacrifice for you and then you act like they should make countless more accommodations for you without batting an eye. You had a friend pick up Kyle and take him to your place. He ran your errands for you and then picked you up at the hospital. You were tired. I hear that getting a transfusion can be exhausting. You came home and fell asleep immediately. Then you started telling Kyle that you didn't want to drive back here. You had changed your appointment with the hospital here. You were coming in on Tuesday now. You wanted to stay out in the desert overnight and then drive in early in the morning. What part of 'traffic' do you not understand? Laura reacted very intensely to that. She got on the horn with Kyle and told him this was a pattern of yours. Ask for big favors and, once they have started, just ask for more and more. There was a time when that felt like spontaneity to me. I loved it; it fed into my sense of adventure. But after a while it becomes an inconvenience. There were so many times I had other plans that would be interrupted by this capriciousness. It got old.
You and Kyle came in late that night. You had gotten the picture from Laura. She didn't like your behavior and she wasn't going to let her boyfriend get sucked into it. We got the dogs. You stayed at David's. You went to the hospital here. They said---or you said they said-----that you have some kind of bleeding that will heal itself in a couple of months. In the meantime you'll be weak and you'll need blood transfusions. You stayed for three more days. On Thursday we had a deposition in your attorney's office. It was a long day. It was mentally exhausting. You took Laura out to dinner that night.
You are thin, you are weak, your body is not cooperating with you. You called Kyle and asked if we could keep the dogs for another week. You have some 'medical issues'. I'm worried you are dying and your body is disintegrating from the inside out. I'm worried that the tumor is still so large that it is continuing to choke the superior mesenteric artery thus cutting some of the blood supply to your intestines. Again, I am sorry you chose divorce. It would be terribly unpleasant to live with you while you are suffering so, but I would have done it. I told Kyle I was wondering if you were feeling despondent and suicidal. You came by to say goodbye to the dogs yesterday. I asked Kyle if he noticed any finality in that. Are you going to take your life? You said you would if you found yourself dying and in great pain.
You need blood transfusions. There's blood in your stools. You are very weak and you can't hold down much of the food you eat. You had asked if we could take care of the dogs for a couple of days while you go to the hospital and get some tests to try and figure out the source of your bleeding. You were going to bring the dogs by on Monday. On Sunday evening you called Kyle. You said you were too weak to drive yourself in to town. Would he come out on a bus in the morning and drive you in? He's a good guy; he said yes.
Kyle and Laura left the house around six. She drove him downtown. He had to be at the station an hour before his bus left. He got out to the desert at 11:00. Where were you? You had gone to the hospital out there to get a transfusion. You would be picking him up at about two or three in the afternoon. Laura said no. He wasn't going to go running out there to help you and then sit around and wait four hours for you to pick him up. The whole 'dropping of everything' ' rushing out to accommodate you' which in a normal person's world would be a big effort, one that would be appreciated by most of the rest of the world, was staying true to your form. You ask someone to make a sacrifice for you and then you act like they should make countless more accommodations for you without batting an eye. You had a friend pick up Kyle and take him to your place. He ran your errands for you and then picked you up at the hospital. You were tired. I hear that getting a transfusion can be exhausting. You came home and fell asleep immediately. Then you started telling Kyle that you didn't want to drive back here. You had changed your appointment with the hospital here. You were coming in on Tuesday now. You wanted to stay out in the desert overnight and then drive in early in the morning. What part of 'traffic' do you not understand? Laura reacted very intensely to that. She got on the horn with Kyle and told him this was a pattern of yours. Ask for big favors and, once they have started, just ask for more and more. There was a time when that felt like spontaneity to me. I loved it; it fed into my sense of adventure. But after a while it becomes an inconvenience. There were so many times I had other plans that would be interrupted by this capriciousness. It got old.
You and Kyle came in late that night. You had gotten the picture from Laura. She didn't like your behavior and she wasn't going to let her boyfriend get sucked into it. We got the dogs. You stayed at David's. You went to the hospital here. They said---or you said they said-----that you have some kind of bleeding that will heal itself in a couple of months. In the meantime you'll be weak and you'll need blood transfusions. You stayed for three more days. On Thursday we had a deposition in your attorney's office. It was a long day. It was mentally exhausting. You took Laura out to dinner that night.
You are thin, you are weak, your body is not cooperating with you. You called Kyle and asked if we could keep the dogs for another week. You have some 'medical issues'. I'm worried you are dying and your body is disintegrating from the inside out. I'm worried that the tumor is still so large that it is continuing to choke the superior mesenteric artery thus cutting some of the blood supply to your intestines. Again, I am sorry you chose divorce. It would be terribly unpleasant to live with you while you are suffering so, but I would have done it. I told Kyle I was wondering if you were feeling despondent and suicidal. You came by to say goodbye to the dogs yesterday. I asked Kyle if he noticed any finality in that. Are you going to take your life? You said you would if you found yourself dying and in great pain.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Did You?
Yesterday Kyle had to call you to ask some questions. What ensued, of course, was a fairly long conversation. You had missed Laura's 21st birthday because we were in Idaho. You sent her a Happy Birthday text. There wasn't much else you could do.
In the conversation with Kyle, you said you were not feeling well. You aren't able to keep food down. That sounds familiar. It's how your disease was first discovered. Is this your cancer metastasizing? Are you there alone? Did you know this was coming? Did you listen to me when I asked you who you thought was going to take care of you when you were ill? I asked you if your gambling buddies were going to give you your morphine shots and you said that wouldn't be necessary. You said it wouldn't come to that. But that was before the judge had you take your guns down to the police station. Did you think it would come to this? Did you think it wouldn't? Who knows, maybe you just have the flu.
I am sad you are ill and I am not part of your life anymore. I wanted to be there for you until the end. I had made a commitment to you and I was going to see it through. Even though you weren't a very good husband, I know you love me more than you've ever loved anyone else. I know you love Laura more than you can describe. So what is this? Did you know when you locked me out of the house and lied to the police about me that this would happen? What was your plan? Were you going to beat cancer and live forever?
Did you ever think this would happen? And more importantly, did you WANT this to happen?
In the conversation with Kyle, you said you were not feeling well. You aren't able to keep food down. That sounds familiar. It's how your disease was first discovered. Is this your cancer metastasizing? Are you there alone? Did you know this was coming? Did you listen to me when I asked you who you thought was going to take care of you when you were ill? I asked you if your gambling buddies were going to give you your morphine shots and you said that wouldn't be necessary. You said it wouldn't come to that. But that was before the judge had you take your guns down to the police station. Did you think it would come to this? Did you think it wouldn't? Who knows, maybe you just have the flu.
I am sad you are ill and I am not part of your life anymore. I wanted to be there for you until the end. I had made a commitment to you and I was going to see it through. Even though you weren't a very good husband, I know you love me more than you've ever loved anyone else. I know you love Laura more than you can describe. So what is this? Did you know when you locked me out of the house and lied to the police about me that this would happen? What was your plan? Were you going to beat cancer and live forever?
Did you ever think this would happen? And more importantly, did you WANT this to happen?
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