Revisit Angry Depression

My husband now has a list of medical conditions that could make any physician scratch their heads. His PCP last week had to deal with his newer condition of Depressive Anger.

The least little thing will set him off now.

It was a pretty bizarre evening last night. I had made a cake and a pretty decent supper. I know eating supper together has always been pleasant for us. Well not last night.

MDD, Major Depression Disorder has come back something fierce. At first I thought it was acceptable because of his issues with the Pulmonary Emboli in both lungs and the hospital stay and the pain in the knee from the bursitis that was excruciatingly painful..
However he said he 'hurt all over' everything hurt. [I've learned over the years that MDD causes the body to hurt all over...it is a sign that he is going into a very bad place.]

He had a major fight with his daughter and yelled at his mother on the phone last week.

Instead of leveling off, the internal and external anger has become more pronounced.

Living with MDD is interesting. You need to have thick skin and emotional walls of concrete.
I set him off in a rage yesterday after working outside for hours, I came in to check on him and to make him something to eat.
I walked into the bedroom to see if he was okay and would like something to eat.

He blew up.
How dare did I interrupt his nap?
Why couldn't he get any sleep around here without someone bothering him?
He got up and tossed the covers aside.
I'm tired and I wanted to sleep so I could shower! And you won't let me!
I replied that I'd been outside for hours and ....how was I to know? I knew the nap for a shower wasn't really a reason for sleeping. Showering had become another new issue for us. Before I could assist him with showers while he was recovering. The last time he did a major portion of it by himself.

The fact that he did not care if he was dirty or smelly and would fight my suggestions for getting washed up was a huge indicator of his depression.

YOU just won't stop bothering me!
He came up and began to poke me with his fingers and imitated as best as he could my voice:
How are you? Do you want something to eat? Can I get you something? Why don't you take a shower? Want to wash up? NAG nag nag!

He poked and poked.
I'm going to wake you up every 30 minutes tonight, see how you like it.

I stood still and silent. No arguing with Depression Rage or whatever you want to call it.
I silently wondered if I could get him in the car and take him to the VA Emergency Department. Sundays were generally bad days for that. And the thought of a 2 hr drive with Rage in the other seat was not anything I wanted to consider.

He went on to other small inconsequential things that I have done over the week. One of the items he was furious about was that I was selling one of my older cameras. He simply went on and on.
I remained silent as One, it was my camera. Two I rarely used it anymore, and Three how did it matter in the larger scheme of things?

Silent. You can't argue with The Transformed Man. Once that ball of anger gets rolling it keeps getting larger and larger.

Last night we went to bed.
He pulled the covers off me.
Then waited until I put them back on.
20 minutes later he started poking my shoulder and asking Are you Awake? How do you like that?

It was juvenile, I admit. But I knew he'd fall sound asleep soon.
I decided to move a bit later when he fell into deep sleep.

I don't understand why his PCP didn't ask for intervention when he argued with her earlier this week.

The scary part of this? I responded with nothing. His tirade never even phased me.
After his oxygen delivery today I will risk asking him to go to the VA ED.

Conversations

From October 13th's 'Journal'

Conversations with Rich can sometimes be pretty difficult.  He is not always open to saying what he is really thinking.
He can be a very difficult person to read.


Dr. Faris asked how he was doing.  Of course Rich answered "ain't worth a shit."  This is his usual tag line and has been since pre cancer diagnosis.

Dr. Faris replied, "Help me understand, that fellow which is you...I hear up the hallway..." he gestures to the hall outside his office on the Mental Health floor of the VA, "always sounds robust and happy.  I can hear your laughter when you stop and talk to Chris in his office."

I sit back and wait quietly for Rich to answer this.  I've noticed the same.  While he is 'visiting' with VA employees, or for example other folks, he gets caught up in the conversation and so many people have commented 'what a great fun person he must be!'  

Rich is quiet for a split second.  "I'm pretending," he replies. "I'm not happy, I'm just acting."

My brow furrows and I try to watch Rich and Dr. Faris at the same time.  Pretending? 
I can't stop myself.
I blurt out.

"I believe then that you need to receive the Academy Award for Best Actor in Any Situation. You didn't have a good time at Jersey Valley?" 

I am referring to meeting with another couple the weekend before and how my husband and my new friend's husband had so much in common as did the 'girls'.  
Of course the ice breaker had been her beautiful red Mustang that both of our husbands- who had gone through incredibly nasty treatments for cancer- admired.

Rich shrugs.  I am floored.  On our way home we'd talked about how much we enjoyed our visit with Sue and Nick and their dog.  I look over at Dr. Faris who is watching carefully.

"So...," Dr. Faris says. "Richard, you never enjoy engaging with other people? Is that what you are saying? You are then the best actor in the world?"

A big sigh comes from Rich. "Yes.  I'm just acting out trying to be normal."

"What gives you satisfaction or peace?  Something like fishing?" Dr. Faris watches.

"No. Not even then, but I love fishing." Rich looks straight at Dr. Faris.  "My only peace will be found when I am dead."

I want to stand up and walk out.  I am shocked by his statement and I want to ask.  "Wow, don't I mean anything to you, doesn't your family mean a thing to you?"  I'm pretty sure that isn't exactly what he meant. He goes on and on about the grand kids, his daughter, my older son and my youngest son's children.  I know he is not pretending when family is around.  I know this deep within my heart and soul.

I wonder if my bewilderment and anger show.  I then remind myself that I am dealing with a man who has just gone through a very tough cancer treatment and suffers from PTSD.

I am left wondering if he truly believes that statement or if that is just what he feels today.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today we visit with the Palliative Care doctor, it should be very interesting.

One day at a time.

Finally after weeks and weeks of seemingly never ending appointments we have gotten a week of 'peace'.

I took some time to be unavailable to work.  No, I do not get vacation nor do I get paid.

This week I got the Subaru in for a oil change, tire rotation, and over all check up.  The vehicle continues to perform well for us.

I was able to take Morris to the vet to get his overdue rabies shot.  I was able to get us both in for haircuts.

Until this week our schedule is such, that I have been working or we have been driving for follow up appointments in Madison.  We simply have been overwhelmed since he was first diagnosed.

So we concentrated on some farm work and catching up on other things.

We did some tree chopping. Brush piling.

Clearing out the dead ash trees...
These were things that had needed to be done.

We will be 4 months out of treatment come October 15th.
How does it feel?

His salivary glands may never be the same.
His energy level may never be the same.  This was explained by more than one doctor.  
Yet Rich feels as if he should feel 100% again.

He has lost a lot of weight after treatment.  I bought him new 'skinnier' jeans today.  Down two inches.

But we have really good days and then days not so good.

Yesterday was partly good and partly not so great.

Is this our new norm?

We follow the motto given to us by the girls at the infusion clinic and at the radiation clinic.

One
Day
At
A
Time.

The Day After the Pet Scan Uh-ohhh

Dr. Witek called Rich the day after the PET scan.

"Our techs were going through your PET scan again and I need to know Rich if you've been having trouble with your eyesight?"

Rich said yes, but we of course hadn't linked any vision changes with anything other than the possibility of normal aging eyes.  The eye doctor had found cataracts too.  We'd told Dr. Morris about that the day earlier and he said that radiation could increase the time frame for cataracts if a person were to get them.

Apparently 'they' found 'something' in the occipital lobe of his brain.  The something was something they wanted to identify very soon.  Dr. Witek had put in an order for a CT scan of the area.  The 'techs' had wanted an MRI but Dr. Witek opted for the CT scan as Rich is very claustrophobic.

There was a knee jerk reaction in our household.  Our good news had turned into a 'Something'.  An unknown.  

We had to go to the VA for Dental, Swallow Clinic, and Mental Health yesterday.  Rich's Dentist did prep work for putting in some teeth to replace those he lost before the radiation therapy started.  Since the Dentist can't place a post in the jaw for partials, he had to make a work around. Radiation in throat and head makes the jaw bone brittle and no teeth can be pulled for about two years without causing huge issues.

Our appointment with Dr. Faris was perhaps the best appointment of the day.  Dr. Faris deserves a nod and some applause as he probably went way past his quitting time to hear Rich out.

He let Rich talk on and on about the Old Days and how he could do anything and everything.  His main complaint is of course how terrible things are for him because he has no energy.  After a long while Rich said out loud, "Maybe I am just getting old and I can't do the things I used to."

There it was, out in the open at least in my mind.  He is not 19 anymore nor 10 foot tall and bullet proof.  He admitted it.
I think it can be very difficult to face the fact that your life is not as it once was.


Dr. Feris discussed Palliative Care for Rich and he actually considered it. Palliative Care is not Hospice but is defined as special medical for people with serious illnesses.  It involves working with a special medical team that focuses on providing the patients with some relief from symptoms and stress from serious illness. The goal is to improve the quality of life for both the patient and the family of the patient.

I asked Rich on the ride home why he was always very negative when people asked how he was.  He didn't really have much of an answer.  I'm of the belief that if you always say you are not well, you will be unwell.

As for the Uh-Ohhh?  It is there and for the moment I am going to cope with it in the only manner I can.  Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, and don't freak out.  No knowledge is more fearful than having knowledge.

I know it is weighing heavily on Rich's mind.  But he told Dr. Feris yesterday that he didn't care, he was not afraid of it after all he has gone through.
We can all put on brave fronts in front of other people can we not?

3 Months Out/PET Scan today

Shall I say that I am up early and worrying and have been worrying for about a week now?

The dreaded and much looked forward to PET scan is today at noon.
Results will be at 3:30 PM with Dr. Witek delivering the good news.
I'm sure they knocked out the throat cancer.  We are trying to only think positive but are prepared for the other diagnoses.

Rich has said if IT isn't gone,[cancer has become an IT now in the house], he would consider a simple option but could never subject himself to the hell that he/we went through again.  We'd seek palliative care.

Radiation in high exposures do cause some radiation sickness like symptoms.  The radiation can attack your red blood cells, affect your intestinal system, and the blood cells that produce bone marrow.

Rich is still recovering from his treatments.  The Carbone Cancer center used Tomotherapy which:

"An important distinction between tomotherapy and other radiation treatments is that past methods exposed much larger areas of the body to higher levels of radiation distributed from fewer angles. Tomotherapy, with its ability to deliver lower doses from many different angles, affects very limited areas of healthy tissue and results in fewer side effects." 
From the Tomotherapy Radiation Univ of WI Madison



 So the next few hours and days will be interesting and hopefully very joyful ones.

One battle after another

What in the world to do?  

We made our radiology appointment yesterday.  Rich was wobbly on his feet and still very stressed out over the reaction he'd had last week to the second line of chemo that he'd received.

We were late for our chemo appointment as both RAD and Chemo were scheduled for the same time.

Nurse Jackie noticed right away that Rich was in a wheelchair [he didn't feel he could walk safely to the Infusion Clinic].

Rich is a veteran with PTSD issues from the Vietnam War. The stress of chemo along with the health issues of going through chemo and radiation therapies at the same time were taking a huge toll on his emotional status.  Enough so that when we got to the Infusion Clinic that Nurse Jackie realized that we had a pretty huge problem.

If a person is extremely stressed and emotionally distraught, chemotherapy will only worsen any healing that can go on.

Nurse Jackie recognized what was happening with Rich and immediately began to assess him.  After some phone calls and a conference with his Chemo Oncology doctor, Dr. R, it was decided the best and safest thing to do was to get him admitted to the Mental Health floor where he could get some help yet still be close enough to be treated with Radiation.
Along with that he could get help with his emotionally distress so he could be prepared for on going chemo, which he does want to continue with.

It seemed like an easy enough and simple enough plan.
6 hours later we were still awaiting a decision.
The mental health people didn't want him because he had a PEG tube and used a CPAP at night.
He was taken to the 4th floor and they didn't really want him as he had been labeled as having mental health issues.

We finally got him settled on the 4th floor and Steph and I went home.

As of noon today his attending nurse on the 4th floor felt he should be kept on that floor because of his past issues with chemotherapy.  But the powers that be decided he should be on '2B', Mental Health.

No one but his nurse has had interaction with him.  The admitting physician came in and gave him a quick once over and since he was not ill enough, thought he could be transferred.

No one from Mental Health has seen him either.  A man in pain from ongoing radiation and extreme anxiety from chemo, left in a room with his thoughts of confusion and more anxiety.

It leaves one to ponder what the Veteran's Administration has in place for veteran's who have both medical issues and mental health issues.  At this point it seems that they have no good protocols in place.

The VA works well, when it works.  It needs constant shoving, pushing, calling, and nagging when it comes to letting someone fall through the cracks.

At the moment, I am at home trying to push, shove, nag, and get answers.  My wish would be to sit with my husband right now and offer him my support.

The male nurse we met a couple of weeks ago in the Emergency Dept stopped me yesterday and asked 'Who is supporting you?'  I nodded towards Rich's daughter, Steph.
Truly though?

I feel as though I am in free fall without a safety net myself.

I am only left with questions that are unanswered and doubts that linger.

Last week I nearly lost my husband to an Anaphylactic reaction, this week I lose my husband to the inner bowels of the VA hospital who seems to 'not know' what to do with him.

I know I can't bring him home right now, and at the moment I am too exhausted to drive 2 hours one way to be with him.


The severity of his Anaphylatic reaction last week on a scale of 1 to 4 was a 4, this told to us by his chemo doc yesterday.
I can probably say with some confidence that my stress level at this moment is off the charts.

I feel helpless and frustrated...and exceptionally drained.

Yet, tomorrow is another day right?

I'm Counting the Days Now...

Maybe I shouldn't count days, maybe I shouldn't look forward to when I can have a day for myself.

Yesterday was another extremely long day.
It started well.  While I was doing chores, Rich started to feel nauseated and instead of taking his meds he waited until I came in.

Another side effect from Chemo hit him at the same time. Ewww...Diarrhea.
Not a pleasant subject but if we are talking about Cancer and everything associated with it, ... there it is.

I called the Infusion Hot Line and was told to give him his nausea meds and Imodium for the diarrhea.
I'd done the nausea meds and had argued with Mr. Patient about taking them.  After talking to the nurse it got...

Done.

We were nearly late for our appointment and but the bouts of diarrhea held off for 4 hrs.  He should have had another tablet after we got to the UW. Bad me, for not being able to keep everything straight and do all the driving and navigating from one place to another.

Mr. Patient and I got directed from the Infusion clinic to the ER at the VA.  Fluids and anti nausea IV meds were given and there was a kind 'lecture' about keeping up on fluids AND the feeding.

Blood counts dropped from yesterday so it will be interesting to see how it is come Tuesday.
Our day spent at the UW, the VA ER, and travelling was from 9am to 6pm.

After we got home Rich went directly to bed.  I was exhausted but went out to do chores anyway.  Heck they needed to be done.
The yard is getting too long and shaggy.

I fed the animals and tried to figure out how quickly I could move everyone to summer pasture.  It would cut down on my work by hours each day.  And as tired as I was getting, that would be a great thing.

Rich had his first IV tube feeding.  Actually it is just a gravity feeding to his PEG.  He had been a pretty poor patient about taking extra nutrition through Miss Peggy.

As nurse Ronnie had said, if he didn't start being a bit more proactive in his eating and nutrition, they would admit him to hospital.

Naughty me, I thought ... in the back of my mind.
Oh!  Really?  Please do!  I could use a couple of days to tend to all the things on the farm!

My Patient-husband can be a real grump and actually he has reason to.
He keeps telling anyone who will listen that he sure didn't bank on being knocked down by the Chemo like this.
Side effects from the Radiation Treatments will make their presence known soon.

The cancerous lymph node has gone from 3cm to 2cm.  At least that is what the doctors are saying.  This is good news to hang on to.


I checked the calendar and counted it up ~ after today:

25 more Radiation Treatments.
5 more Chemo Treatments.

Yesterday's lessons.  
Have pull up adult diapers on hand in case...
Make sure patient takes his anti nausea pills and stays with it.
Make sure patient eats.  Make sure patient takes Jevity.
Pack your car as if you were a pharmacy and add water bottles, clothes, and notepads.

For the CareGiver:
Go to bed.  Sleep. 
It is normal to be frustrated.

All the caregiver information I read is to get someone to come in and give you a break.
This isn't really possible when your day is taken up by travelling and farm chores.  
But I will be addressing those issues very quickly.

Today is Friday.  I hope it goes well.

Prepared for this ride?

Our weekend was busy.  We had company for which I am grateful as Rich loved holding Gunner who is a newborn.

Here is the Cliff Note Version of our last few days since Friday which went well.
~~~~
Company.
Rich wore himself out being the 'host with the most'.  He took our guests to lunch and stayed up most of the day when he should have been resting.

That evening he said he'd do chores while the mom of the children took her wee ones and went to Walmart in town for diapers.  I took her husband out for a lesson on long exposures.
I enjoyed that immensely after working all day.

We came home and NO Rich.  He was in the bathroom. He said he'd felt dizzy doing chores, weak, and thought he wasn't going to make it back to the house.

I helped him to bed and get undressed.  Later I brought him water when he said his mouth was so dry.  I tried to give him some Biotene to rinse with as it was prescribed for this very reason.

Let us just say that his extra activity and his treatments knocked him totally on his arse.  
He kept telling me that he felt strange and he couldn't describe it.
Then he would say he felt like if he ate he might throw it up.  I told him that was nausea and to take his nausea medicine.  He flatly refused.

Sunday wasn't much better but our visiting friends said he ate cereal and an egg scrambled but nothing else.  He was drinking water though.
~~~~

Monday.
We spoke with the Social Worker for Radiation Therapy. Jackie told Rich that he'd lost 6lbs over the weekend and she was concerned.
We discussed the weekend and she said that food having an off taste was fairly normal for this.
She recommended that he start taking his anti nausea meds and begin PEG feeding with one can per day.

Let's cut to the chase.
He ate a good lunch.  Then spent the rest of the day in bed.
I got him up to eat.
He came downstairs and told me he wasn't eating.

I made a chocolate malt with 'Ensure' mixed in.  He drank two glasses.  Then announced his intent to go to bed.

I brought out the Jevity and said that he needed to have one of those before bed. 

The look of anger on his face was a new thing for me.  He swore and then told me to 'get on with it'.  I helped him pour the liquid into the tube and then held it.

He kept getting more angry, the 'liquid food' wasn't going down fast enough for him.  Patience was not something he had very much of.  He pushed it down and then told me to put the rest of the Jevity in the fridge.

I dumped it and tossed the syringe.  Okay, let me rephrase that.
I didn't just dump it...I dumped it and then threw it as hard as I could into the recycling bag.

If he'd had the strength, he would have stomped up the stairs to bed.  I helped him undress and turn on the CPAP and Oxygenator.

I asked him if he was going to take his night meds.  He waved a hand at me.

Really?  Is this how it is going to go?  He will be sweet and nice when talking to the nurses and mean and cranky when we are alone and refuse to really do what he is supposed to?

Day 4 of Radiation.  Day 6 since first treatment.
And I wonder truly if I am prepared for this ride.

Anger Emotions Tired Changing

Pretty much, the title says most of it all.  We are going day by day now, one day at a time.

Treatment was supposed to start on Monday.  I made phone calls to the Coordinator of Care at both the VA and the UW Hospitals and they both concurred on this.

We were told that we'd get called by Thursday or Friday at the latest. I spent Thursday doing things around the house.  By late Thursday I took a short walk into the woods while Rich slept.  

His surgery from Monday was still bothering him.  He couldn't pick heavy things up or bend over easily, but we were learning how to flush Miss Peggy the PEG tube.  It looked to be healing quite well.

By Friday morning I was tired, so bone tired that it felt like it took all of my strength just to do the chores.  I didn't mind the rain.  But I did mind feeling as though I were dragging and elephant along through the mud with me.

I'd been reading the literature sent to me by the Caregiver Coordinator from the VA.  I was suffering some Caregiver burnout and here we hadn't even begun to start the 'tough' stuff.  How in the heck was I going to make it through weeks of Radiation and Chemotherapy and be kind and understanding?

Could I do it?

We'd already been seeing that in the fact that both Rich's emotions and mine were running wild circles around each other.  He'd be up, I'd be down. 

I wondered if I was truly going to be up to this task before me.  We still had no true idea of what we were getting into.
We'd heard a lot about 'how tough' things were going to get or 'could' get, or 'might' get.  It all depends on the individual.

Enough was enough.  Rich asked me if I wanted to go car shopping.  I jumped at the idea as it was better than sitting in the house thinking gloomy thoughts on a gloomy day.

We went to LaCrosse and took care of our transportation issues. We have been frugal folks for years and we had decent vehicles but the Subaru was having mechanical issues.  In fact it seemed as though they were going to be non-stop at this point.  Fixing it completely would be about as much money as it was worth.  It was 13 years old.
Rich did something I never expected him to do ... not ever.
He bought me a brand new Red XVCrosstek made by Subaru.
He made it clear that he was buying me a new car.

It may seem very imprudent to those who don't know us.  But traveling 190 miles a day was going to be too iffy with our aged vehicles.  

We were both exhausted when we got home from LaCrosse Friday night.

This morning I was getting ready to go outside and do chores while Rich was talking to his mother on the phone.  She must have asked something about the PEG tube.

Rich replied that he had to flush it ... then he had to do some more reading about it.  We both had some questions for the doctors on the follow up appointment.
He then said, "Well she doesn't help me at all, she says I'm on my own, ... ornery old heifer! Yep, here I am, left like an old sheet hung on the line to dry..."

I closed the door and stepped outside.  I was fuming.  How dare he say that?
I did the chores and filled water tanks along with buckets.  I moved bales and prepared everything for the evening chores.  I had to go do a 12 hour overnight shift and he was going to have to work through chores on his own.

When I got back inside, I'd calmed down a bit.  I was still ready to bite someone's head off.  But I held my tongue.

Rich picked up the menu from Iguana's Mexican Street Cafe and asked me a question about what pico de gallo was.  I gave him a stare, it could have probably peeled the paint job off from our new car that we would pick up Monday night.  
Iguana's Mexican Street Cafe is owned by the fellow who sold us the car, it is his and his wife's business.  

He must have figured it out.
"What?"
I grimaced, "Do you have to be so mean about it?  I don't help you at all? What about what I do here, what about," ... I tossed my hands in the air.

His mouth formed an "O".  Then he nodded.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I just with all of this..." I shrugged.
"I know and I hope you know that I was joking, I was kidding."  He thought for a second then said, "With what we are going through, I'm guessing we are going to go through a lot of this.  Boy, it is going to be hard."

We.  We are going through.  That was the key.  It wasn't just him, it was us. In a way it was changing our relationship and I think for the better in some ways.
We were beginning to think more of each other's personal feelings.  We were recognizing our ups and downs.  We were changing, our marriage was changing.

Communication & Being Direct

Rich made it home safely.  We spent yesterday talking and getting some ground rules set up for the upcoming weeks.

I was about to go out the door to do chores.  He was in the other room.

As I put on my coveralls I asked him when he was going to 'flush' his PEG tube, or as we call 'her' now Peggy.

He was still very sore from the surgery and it was hard for him to move to bend over and get things. 
I'd helped him get his clothes on and put on his shoes when he got up.  We both knew that he'd feel better in a few days, but for now it was something that needed being done.
And well, I was beginning to understand a bit of the upcoming role I'd play in the next few months.

So his answer to my question was very vague...he pretty much didn't say yes or no and then mumbled something about he "might need some help with Peggy".

So I asked him directly if he wanted my help and needed my help before I went out and started to do the chores.

He said yes.  I told him that he needed to be direct from this point in.  IF he needed help, he needed to ask that of me directly because I couldn't decipher what he needed when he was vague.  If he wanted assistance for something to say so and not just assume that I would figure it out.

He laughed and said, "OK, I WANT you here right now, this instant!"

We both chuckled at the humor.  "Not quite that way," I directed him.

We flushed Peggy and when I got in from chores we'd change the dressing together.

During the time I was outside he made multiple phone calls to the VA trying to get some other items taken care of.  

As I made my rounds of taking care of hounds, mules, donkeys, and the Dexter Cattle, I thought how quickly our lives had changed in 5 short weeks.

My mind then went into the chores and enjoyed the noises of the outdoors. Robins, Redwing Black Birds, House Sparrows, braying mules and donkeys all took over and my worries were put on the back burner while I worked.

It took about an hour to get everything done my way.  Rich does chores his way, I do them my way.  Mine takes longer because I am always doing them so I don't have to come back in an hour or so and do watering.  
I puttered around and took my time.

When I got back inside Rich was ready to change his dressing on Peggy.
We worked together, he could do it himself, but I think he just wanted me there as his back up.

He explained what he was doing and we reviewed his swallowing exercises as well as 'how he would feed himself' when it got to the point where he wouldn't be able to swallow even pureed foods.  

"The nurses said that I am going to get pretty sick," Rich said.  
I nodded, I already knew that.
"I wonder if there is anyone around that I can hire to help with chores. I can't have you trying to do it all."

"Thank you for thinking that," I said.  "I won't be able to do it all.  Not at all."

Baby steps.  A few feet forward a few steps back.  We were starting to learn a new way to live life together with a new method of communication.

We both agreed that it wasn't going to be easy and we wouldn't always be polite with each other.
We'd have crappy days and we'd be nasty with each other.

And then we would have better days also.

After the Teeth Pulling & PET Scan Notification

From my journal April 6th

Crazy.  Our days and nights have been a bit of hell.  Rich sits and stares out the window.  He goes from being angry to being sad and depressed within hours.

He won't admit it, but the oral surgery did hurt and he'd refused meds for the pain.  Tough guy.

I've made shredded meat stews and other easy to eat foods for him.  I avoid the chips, a food he loves.  I suggest he try and Oreo cookie dipped in milk to soften it.
He waves me away.

"Life sucks," he finally says to me.  "I should just ...," he stops and says nothing, then gets up and walks out of the room.

I try to get him to watch a program on Netflix.  He shakes his head and mumbles that he is going to nap.

I need to go to town and get some ice cream perhaps to cheer him up.  My Grandmother always said that Ice Cream was the cure for everything.

I have a list of simple groceries to get.
I park in the Jubilee parking lot and am suddenly overcome by grief or emotion.  I sit in the Subaru unable to move.  I want to cry I want to scream and throw things, I want to be... I don't know what I want.

Tears slide out the corners of my eyes.  I wipe at them and stare off for a bit taking breaths.  
Why should I be upset right?  What right do I have to be emotional?  I do NOT have cancer.  I am not the one who has IT.

My mind goes blank and I wait for a bit to get things under control.  I step out of the car and shut the door.

I start towards the store.  When I get inside I cannot recall what I was there for.  
I grab my list out of my pocket and find myself wandering around somewhat aimlessly.

When I come home with ice cream Rich's face lights up like a Christmas Tree.

The phone rings and it is the UW Hospital calling.  They have scheduled the PET scan for the 9th of April.  A nurse will call us with details later.


Well there we go.  We made another day.

Outside I find a beautiful crocus that has opened.