Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Where pity arrives at the party and we dance together... badly

Awoke with something heavy weighing me down... other than my own girth. Couldn't really put my finger on it. In spite of missing Kristin last night I really did have a great time at Karaoke. I'd forgotten how much fun it is to do BNL with Tim. The overwhelming numbers of sorority and frat members did make me want to invest in vasectomy gift certificates for all of them... yes, girls too. They could give one to a friend.

Had an early appointment with my oncologist. No real change from last week. We're waiting for the cancer to grow back to it's original strength and start chemo again. The surgeon does not want to do surgery. I guess, better said, the surgeon and tumor board don't feel like surgery is a viable option for me. As I left I went in to say, "Hi," to the chemo nursing staff who have been so wonderful to me. Leaving I realized what this weight, this depression, was.

I'm mourning my losses... again. Some are new and some are old.

It hit me again today that I will never truly know the joy of holding my child in my arms. I'll never read her (or him, but for the sake of this story it's going to be a girl) a story before bed, intimidate her first boyfriend (or girlfriend, whichever), dance with her at her wedding. Cancer has robbed me of that. I will never get to see my amazing and beautiful wife holding our daughter after giving birth and tell her how proud I am.

I feel like I'm losing some friends. At least for a while. The nursing staff at chemo are a bright light in my week. I don't see many of my "friends" any more and don't have a job to interact with people. They kind of filled that roll. And they're really caring, loving and fun. I miss them already.

There are ego issues overwhelming me. When I applied for disability and had to quit my job I didn't realize how useless I would feel not bringing money in. Our bills are overwhelming. Even with the help we've received, we can't keep up. We could if I was working. But I'm not. I feel bad for every dollar I spend because I think of how hard Kristin is working and how useless I've become. I'm hoping that when the disability checks start in December (December 31st to be exact) I'll feel better. But I doubt it. It's a guy thing. I know it's stupid. It's still there.

More stuff is lurking in the cobwebs of my very beleaguered mind. Normally I fight this stuff like Batman on the Clock King. But today I'm letting it happen. I feel the need to feel some of this stuff. Like if I repress it I'll explode.

I guess it comes down to this: I don't want to die. Not yet.

Sorry, the next post will be full of joy and "wisdom". For now, go hug somebody. (Maybe someone you don't know on the street. Then run away. But run fast, they might have a tazer.).

1 comment:

Jennifer said...

This was the first time I checked out this sight and read what you have had to share with us all about your Cancer and just life in general. Was not sure what to expect. Can I just say that you are so brave and so wonderful. Going through something like Cancer is something I have never experienced myself nor have I had anyone close to me go through it. I am a Parent and I have to say it broke my heart hearing your pain from not being able to share in the journey of Fatherhood. You would make a Daughter/or Son proud with all you have to offer. The love you and your wife share for each other is exacty what a child needs to see and learn from. You may not be a "physical" parent to any child but know this my friend. Your actions, your love, your friendship with others and that gigantic heart that you have...children WILL learn from you by example. No matter if they are yours or not. Think of it as you parenting the world! Your the best. Let everyone see that, especially the children:-)

Lots of love,

Jen W