Since we got home from the hospital, David has been walking up and down the driveway throughout the day to keep moving and keep potential blood clots at bay. He is eating when he doesn’t feel like it. He is doing breathing exercises when he doesn’t feel like it. He goes to doctor visits when he absolutely doesn’t feel like it. He stays on top of his meds so the pain doesn’t get too unbearable while worrying he will become dependent on them. He gets up and puts one foot in front of the other every day. He showers and has to rest a while. We go to an appointment, and he is exhausted. I can tell he is feeling blue. Deep, royal blue not light baby blue. He is very tired. So tired all the time. He seems even more sad the past few days. On the way to an appointment, he may be full of conversation, then on the way home, there may not be much he wants to say. The emotional side of sharing someone you love with cancer is wrenching. Cancer doesn’t stop. It causes physical pain and emotional distress for everyone close to it. It changes personalities and moods. It changes one’s appearance and strength and wears down even the strongest willed person. Various friends and family ask me daily how David is doing. This is just a glimpse. That is what I see. I ask him ten times a day…Pain? Feel bad? How bad? What does it feel like? What can I do? What do you need? I hold his hand. I hold his head. I hold him. I would hold his pain if I could. One hundred times again and again. He is brave and strong, and I could never do this. Be what he is. Go through what he is going through.
People ask how I am doing. It is the same honest response every time. “Tired”.
Tired of him feeling pain. Tired of him not feeling like doing all the things he loved doing. Tired of seeing him beat himself up because he thinks he should be stronger. Tired of worrying how long we have. Tired of worrying about doctor visits and opinions and wondering if we are doing the right things. Tired of worrying about how much cancer costs and having front desk people say “Are you aware of your bill?” Tired having to hold back from saying “Of course we know. Send ME the bill. Call ME, but don’t you dare say another word to him as he is dragging himself in for another one of these appointments.” Tired of missing him and he is right beside me trying as hard as he can to be brave and to be a fighter against an unpredictable, malicious opponent. Tired of being so determined to start the day with a positive attitude then failing before I get my socks on. Tired of catching momentary glimpses of his magnetic, funny personality just to have it stolen away again by pain that never truly goes away or brain fog caused by the chemo he had six weeks ago. Tired of missing his laugh and corny jokes and the way his eyes get those crow feet wrinkles in the corners when he smiles so genuinely that it just makes me feel like a silly teenager again. Tired of knowing what it feels like to be brought to my knees in helplessness when he thinks no one can hear him vocalize the pain. Tired of the tears that come at random and inopportune times throughout the day that I try so desperately to stop. Tired of having a good day only to have a sudden realization pop into my head telling me we can’t make long term plans anymore. Tired of battling these thoughts. Tired of knowing none of this is helpful or the right thing. Tired of knowing this is when I need to make a gratitude list. To be thankful. To seek sunshine instead of rain. To do my best to live normally. Consider more productive things. Tired of not knowing how to be successful at that. Tired of feeling so much anger and envy and sense of loss even while we are still right here in this fight. Tomorrow is another opportunity to do better, but right now…I am tired.