Uh, yeah... still pissed. Actually, I wasn't pissed last night, so much as I was hurt. I just got off the phone with my mama. She's very worried about me and really wants me to go to group tonight... she said I just "need to lose the F word... most people find it really offensive". Sorry mamasan... no can do. Well, I could... but I won't. What I find so disturbing is that anyone in this kind of support group would find a word... any word... offensive. Really??? Every single one of us watched our husbands suffer hideously and die of this disgusting disease. CANCER is what I find offensive. It reminds me of a scene in the movie "The People vs. Larry Flynt". Anybody ever see it? He's the guy who founded Hustler magazine. He's a fairly disgusting and pervy guy, and I certainly didn't go in to that movie expecting to think of him as a sympathetic character. But guess what... the guy made a great fuckin' point. He took his battle with The First Amendment all the way to The Supreme Court... and won. The scene that really stuck with me was one where he was trying to rally support for his cause. Many people were trying to ban the publication of his magazine, calling it 'obscene'. This was the early 70's, so Vietnam was front and center in everybody's brains. He had a screen behind him flashing images of war, and asked everyone to define the word obscene. As the horrendous, real, raw and bloody images came on the screen, he said... ,"what do you consider obscene? Is THIS obscene to you?" Trust me, I have no interest in Hustler Magazine, but his point was well-taken.
I'm not crazy, people. I see a real correlation here. These morons are going to tell me that my language is offensive or obscene??? I don't think so. I'll give you some real examples of offensive and obscene... David being physically restrained by a burly male nurse 24/7 as he fought his way through liver failure-induced psychosis; needing to have 4 to 6 LITRES of bile drained from his abdomen every couple of days, because the TWO drains he had surgically implanted just couldn't keep up; his nail beds going from pink, to yellow, to purple as his body finally shut down; the indignities he suffered as they continually changed his bedsheets and chucks pads because he couldn't control his bladder; taking my son to say goodbye to his dad... knowing it was the last time he would see him alive; David finally realizing he was actually going to die, only about 30 hours before he did; his slipping into unconsciousness, while the bile seeped from his mouth and his nose constantly during his final 24 hours... shall I continue??? Watching this 41 year old man, my husband and the father of my children, literally wither up, fade away and die before my eyes, was absolutely the most obscene and offensive thing I have ever witnessed in my life. I wouldn't do it any differently though. The simple fact that my boys know that I NEVER abandoned their dad gives me great comfort. And as hideous as it is... bearing witness to another person's journey to death is the last great gift you can impart to them.
As far as I'm concerned, no more support group for me. Yes, I'm incredibly disappointed, but these are the ABC's of me, baby. I am who I am. This journey has made me who I am. I won't apologize for it, and I sure as FUCK won't change who I am for someone else. Believe it or not... I LIKE ME.
S
Trying to survive and thrive, through the most difficult time in my life.
Welcome!
So here's the Reader's Digest version for those of you who are new to my blog.... My 39 year old husband, David, was diagnosed with a hideous and deadly cancer in April of '08. We were told he'd likely die in less than 4 months. Obviously, that diagnosis turned us inside out and shook us to the core. At the time, our boys were 12 and 4... can you say 'fucking nightmare'??? I spent the next 14 months being his 24/7 caregiver and advocate... never leaving his side unless it was to get the boys to or from therapy or their cancer support groups. Cancer and the hell that it brings became our universe. And yet, I was able to get myself to a place where I was depending on my faith.... existing on a plane of pure gratitude. I focused my energies on recognizing the blessings that cancer had brought to our lives... yes, there ARE blessings that come with such a dire diagnosis.
Things were good. David miraculously entered remission in April of '09. I was looking forward to the next few months being our 'summer of healing' as a family. And then my world stopped. He left me... left US... on 6 June 2009. And FYI... he told me he was ending our 18 year marriage in a note. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had left me for a 'friend' who also happened to be married. Nice. The next few months are a blur... I descended into a deep, dark depression, and David's vicious treatment of me didn't help. He was running as fast as he could from everything associated with cancer, and that included me... our family, our home and the entire life we had built together. Things went from bad to worse when his cancer returned with a vengeance. He began treatment once again, and I had to dig deep to help him and make things as easy on him as possible. I even offered to have him move home so I could care for him through his treatment. As it turns out, it was a good thing he didn't take me up on that. The hateful way that he treated me during that time would have made caregiving for him an unbearable situation. I KNEW he was dying... nobody else did, because he fed them all kinds of bullshit... but I knew. Because of that, I focused on the boys and made sure they were with their daddy as much as possible.
His final months were a living nightmare... a kind of pain and darkness for which there are no words. No human being, no matter who they are or how they lived their lives, should have to suffer the horrific pain and endless indignities that David did. In spite of everything, I was with him constantly, much to the chagrin of his girlfriend and his mother. 'Too fuckin bad' was my theory. I wanted my boys to see that I NEVER turned my back on their dad. And I didn't. I continued to advocate for him in the hospital... fighting to get him the meds and the specialists he needed. I was there during his final moments of consciousness. I took Reilly to say goodbye to his dad, just before he slipped into that state. I was there when he died. I ID'd his body at the funeral home. I planned his funeral and his Celebration of Life. I placed his ashes in the wall of the Columbarium at the Naval Academy. We had spent half of our lives together, and though I was no longer in love with him, I did those things out of respect for the life that we shared and the family that we created.The 6 months since he died have brought more changes. I struggle daily to untangle the financial disaster he left me, and I'm fighting like hell to keep our home. The boys are now 15 and 7 and trying to learn how to move forward in their lives without their daddy. I had to get a part-time job after spending 15 years as a full-time mother, and I'm doing everything I can to trim the fat so we can afford to stay where we are. My boys NEED the stability and comfort that come with remaining in our home and community, and staying in their schools. To that end, I will fight with every fiber of my soul to ensure that those things happen.My greatest blessing is that I now have an incredible man in my life... a man who is thoughtful and loving, strong and sensitive, hilariously funny, and who loves me just the way I am. He is authentic. He knows who he is and is completely comfortable in his own skin. It certainly doesn't hurt that he's 11 years younger than I am and sexy as hell. :0)Yes, my boys are struggling in many ways... the therapy and support groups continue... and I still have MUCHO 'death business' to handle. That said, I am starting to believe that there might be a happy future ahead... for all of us.The past almost 3 years have been quite an emotional roller coaster, to say the least. Writing has been the most important part of my day, every day, since this journey began. I am once again being put in a position where I have to learn to survive... spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially... you get the picture. My hope is that I can hold on to my faith, find a moment of joy in every day, be the best mother I can possibly be, and hopefully... one day... emerge back into the light.December 2010
What I find really offensive is the way other people take it upon themselves to decide whether someone else's behavior is acceptable. I call it the Oprah Complex. Everybody is under the delusion that I give a fat FUCK what they think. And they really do believe it is their place to let you know. Last I checked, I am a grown adult, and I make the decisions as to how I carry myself: good, bad or indifferent. I have paid consequences for my choices and I am prepared to live with that. I mean, what is appropriate when dealing with illness and death? If I want to climb a tree and howl at the moon, by God, that's what I'll do. And, I won't feel the need to explain it. Obviously, I am not recommending a person walk around being continously inappropriate, I've tried it; no good can come of it. Still, you have to draw the line somewhere or you will eventually end up living someone else's life. Uh, no. I certainly understand your choice to leave that group, though maybe you should attend one more meeting, make sure you use the most colorful language you have and see if you can't get one of those Peter Puffs to tell you to your face what's on their mind. That bugs me too. At least have the balls to tell me staight up how you feel, if you must tell me. You are so honest and full of life, they don't know what the fuck to do with you. Look for another group. There have to be more. Start your own. I was so sad last night thinking about you...........hope you remember your own strength and power. T.
ReplyDeleteI like you too :)
ReplyDeleteaot
r~
which is worse FUCK or CANCER?
ReplyDeleteWell FUCK CANCER!!!!
ASSHOLES!
Good advice from Toni, find a new group, you truly are a joy to be around, can't understand a group like that. Their loss. Stay in the sunlight sweetie. E
ReplyDelete