In Your Hands Now

Okay, it was not a good beginning for me today. Within minutes of waking up, I told Steve I was praying to die within 7 days, tops. I can no longer bear this unceasing pain, this life of imprisonment in my weak and failing body. Then I cried, both through and because of the pain, the nausea, and the neverendingness of it all. So he held me and softly kissed my cheek, telling me it was okay, I was free to leave him. "Don't try to hold on for me, Honey."

Does it break his heart? Of course it does. Does he want the best for me? Yes, and death is the preferable outcome at this point. He is so strong and brave; I could not do this alone. He invariably knows what drug to give me, and when to give it. Rubbing any part of me that hurts is his specialty. Leaning over to kiss my face always comes at the most opportune times. Drinks arrive before I ask for them. Movies I love are offered before I even think of them. Steve is the other half of me. He just knows.

We almost separated twice, back in the days of youth and stupidity. And no, I cannot recall why. I only recall a half packed suitcase. That's how important it was, as in 'not.' I suspect most marriages go through that at some time. Most friendships probably do also. We love our friends, our spouses, and our families, but some days they just make us want to smack them. Putting ourselves last is the surest way to overcome those moments. Me? I can never be higher than #2 on my own list. Much lower if anyone other than Steve and I are involved. Add Morgan and Sam? I'm #4. And so it goes.

This morning I seriously thought I'd have trouble keeping my promise to Morgan, that one about not dying while she wasn't here. I was spiraling down so fast. But tonight I feel...well, not normal, but less deathy. But I also know that I can no longer take pills. They stick in my throat. I have to drink anything so slowly that thirst cannot be quenched. No solid foods, only soft ones. Today I had apple sauce, pudding, a creamsicle, a few shakes of Ensure, lots of juice, and maybe some mashed potatoes. Oh, and a bit of very soft deviled egg without the bread. It all went down. True, it totaled about 1 cup of food altogether, but I ate it.

I'm staying up late, since I want to wake up late and not have to face that horrid food thing again tomorrow. Yes, it makes me cry. I'm starving to death, but feel no hunger at all. I've been promised that I shouldn't have to suffer. Well, it's already too late for that! But I know what they mean. They'll take care of me, keep it to a minimum. Steve will do anything anything he is allowed to comfort me. You know, morphine, oxycodene, all sorts of strong drugs.

So, yes, I do want this to end. They all know. They just keep pouring on the love, doing whatever they can to bring me joy. I'll be able to wave to them that last day, seeing them smile, laugh and cry as I go away. Steve will not be whole for a long time, but he will recover and he will survive. Take care of them all for me, will you? They're in your hands now.