Weathering the Storm

There's a storm brewing tonight, ready to make landfall in the coming hours. I've been wondering just how strong a storm it will be. Are we ready for it? Have we done all the needed preparations? Will our power be interrupted?

But why am I fretting over something that hasn't happened yet? Today was such a beautiful day. Sunshine, cool morning, a crystal summer shower. A day to revel in.

I've be doing the same thing with LucyAnn and her treatment. Fretting. She finished her first round of chemo today and has done remarkably well tolerating them. Only minor side effects. She was enjoying her feeling good, reminding me how poorly she has felt the last many months.She reminded me the importance of celebrating the moment, whatever tomorrow may bring..She reminded me that we will weather the storms and how we will cherish each moment whatever it brings..

Blue Highways

I had lunch yesterday with two guys whose partners are also going through chemotherapy. They called it a "fraternity", one which you would rather not belong to. It was nice to talk and get thoughts on caregiving and what I might expect.  One of them made an analogy of how it was like being on a slow paced country road while the rest of the world was traveling through their lives on the Interstate, Our friends and loved ones will occasionaly take an off ramp to travel with us for awhile, offering their help and companionship. Right now the on ramp for us in the fraternity is still a little ways in the distance. For now we will keep our eyes on the slow country road ahead, navigating any bumps and potholes along the way.

Comfort

Last night LucyAnn was feeling a lot of head and neck pain so she laid back against me on the couch and I gave her a head massage. Brief tears came to me as I felt how comfortable and familiar the 32 years of being together has made us, our bodies and hearts having become an extension of each other. I felt privileged to be able to provide at least a bit of comfort for her. I think one of the hardest things for me going forward will be to watch LucyAnn experience the pain and discomfort of side effects of her treatment and to know that I can only do so much to relieve her pain. But I will do what I can.

Depth of Field

Pinpoint focus. Those are the words that come to mind as I think about these last two days. All that is around me is blurred as my focus has been attending to LucyAnn for her first two days of chemotherapy. Even as I felt this strange surreal feeling as I walked into the chemo ward of the cancer center, within me I also felt this to be a place of healing, a place of love, a place not to be feared  but a place to fully embrace, as the kind and caring nurses and staff welcomed and fully embraced us. The chemicals to be infused, not poisons to be feared and resisted, but instruments of hope and healing to be celebrated and welcomed with open arms. Liquid healing light permeating every cell in LucyAnn's body to kill all the cancer cells and bring  her body back to an optimum state of health.

Grief and Gratitude

I was feeling a little sadness thinking about how so much seems different now and grieving for the loss of "how it was." Silly really when I think about it. Everything is always changing day to day. But this dramatic change feels different...more in your face different. Tears of grief turned into tears of gratitude and hope. Remembering that LucyAnn is on a journey of healing and renewed strength and wholeness. But looking from the beginning of this untraveled road the trek looks daunting, its unknown twists and turns unsettling.. My focus will be to continue step by step, only occasionally glancing further down to keep perspective. And to hold LucyAnn close, supporting her all the way.

Perspective

On our walk this morning in the neighborhood a 20-something women jogged past us:

LucyAnn: "A lot of people our age and older can jog like that...makes me feel old."
Barry: "A lot of people never even make it to our age. I guess we're somewhere in the middle."

A Blog for Only My Dearest Friends

"No one tells you it's all about to change. There's no proximity alert, no indication that you're standing on the precipice. And maybe that's what makes tragedy so tragic. Not just what happens, but how it happens; a sucker punch that came out of nowhere, when you're least expecting it. No time to flinch or brace."
From Dark Matter: A Novel
Blake Crouch

I decide to start this blog to share my thoughts and feelings about going through this time with LucyAnn and her cancer. Your are my very closest friends which I hold most dear and who I trust with my most deepest thoughts and feelings. I have no idea how much or what I will post but it just feels important to share whatever come up with you. Just to know that others who I love will know. I feel at times scared and frightened about my ability to cope with this. Will I have the strength? Can I be there to support LucyAnn as well as taking care of myself. At other times, when I can stay in the moment, feel hopeful. I will share, not to burden you, but to unburden myself. And maybe to lean on you a little emotionally.

So that's my first post. We'll see how it goes. Thank you for being there. I love you all.

Barry