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

11 March 2011

It's my sweetie's birthday!

Good morning noodles. Today is a fab day... my Finn's birthday! I had to wait until he fell asleep last night to put up some decorations. I wanted him to have some birthday smiles when he got up at 4:30 a.m. Eeeew.... I wasn't even sure that would be possible! I am happy to report though... success! He was definitely surprised and loved it! This is what he found on his bathroom mirror:
This is what it says... "Happy Birthday to my RED HOT SWEET TART! You are my LIFESAVER and we are MENT to be together! Your KISSES send me into ORBIT! We always have so much FUN. You KRAK me up and make me LAFF. Your JUICY lovin' is GOOD N PLENTY and you ROCK my world! You may be a NERD, but you're my SUGAR and I love being your CHIK! You are a STAR in my life TOOTSIE, and you are my very own HOT TAMALE! I will love you always... NOW & LATER! 

I may have fucked up in college, but at least I learned to make a DANG CUTE candy story board! This is at the top of the mirror...

And he even found these when he opened the door to the loo...

I had fun doing it for him and I'm so happy that he started his day with a smile... probably because he realizes what a goober I am, but whatever... it worked!

There has been some more interesting fallout re: my support group. I got a private note from a friend yesterday. I know she meant well, but it actually came across as pretty condescending. It was a long letter, but here's one snippet that really stood out, "I think the group has a lot to offer you. I think you have a lot to offer as well. I think you can do it without swearing for one hour a month." Wow. Really??? Gimme a fuckin break. I actually manage to get through my daily life acting and speaking like a regular person... I'm not an idiot. You think I walk around at the kids' schools dropping the f bomb or going to restaurants telling the servers to get me a fuckin coke??? Hmmmm... I just had a thought... maybe my foul language is the reason I'm still looking for work. Do you think I should go back and take all of the profanity out of my resume??? Puhhhleeeez. The other part of it that seriously pissed me off, was the pronouncement that this friend and others had previously discussed my colorful language. Interesting. I've been told since day 1 that our group was a safe zone, and that all discussion was private, completely confidential and stayed within that room. Evidently that's not the case, since there were clearly group members talking about me behind my back. NOT cool. 

I came across a very interesting article posted by The Mayo Clinic yesterday. Get a load of this:

Benefits of Support Groups

"...people who have participated in support and bereavement groups say the experience gave them an emotional connection when they felt isolated from friends and family. A group can provide and share information ranging from disease research and new medications to how a bereaved person can cope after a loved one's death. People involved say this exchange of information is one of the most valuable elements of participating in a support or bereavement group.

Moreover, support and bereavement groups offer people the opportunity to release powerful emotions they may otherwise keep to themselves. Health care providers say support groups can improve a participant's mood and decrease psychological distress."

Hmmm.... at least that's what support groups are supposed to do.... NOT leave you feeling cast aside and gossiped about. 

Whatever. It's over. I'm done with it. The boys will continue to participate in their groups, and I'm happy to tell you that they both had wonderful meetings last night. :0)

Special thanks to all of you who offered your support and understanding... Toni, Robin, Spunk, Auntie Nut & Kristin. Your words mean the world to me. :0)

Better skiddoo... the job hunt continues. Oh, and let's not forget... I may have applied for a gazillion jobs, but I've only had ONE interview and I GOT THE FUCKIN' JOB. Amazing that I was able to control myself long enough to fool them into thinking I can conduct myself like an upstanding citizen who behaves in public. I know... I'm heeelarious. :0)

xoxo
S


***If you're told a secret, keep it.***
***Believe in the sacredness of a promise.***
***Be free to change and express yourself.***
***Rise to the occasion and fight bravely for what is right.***
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10 March 2011

Told ya...

I got a note from a friend today that I really want to share. She tried to post it, but it didn't work. She sent it to me via Facebook and she has some very painful truths to speak. She had just come across that article I posted from HelloGrief.org, and this is what she had to say:


Hi Shannon. I just rediscovered your blog and read a few entries. I'm so sorry that you are all still suffering, though I'm not surprised. This article is spot on. We are about to go through the 19th anniversary of Paul's mom's death (murder) and it is still extremely painful. Some people don't understand that it is not something that gets easier with time. You will have your good days and happy times but it never goes away. There is no expiration date. Even as new lives begin, there is still a huge hole in everyone's lives. When I had Isabel and then Dylan, I was happy to be giving Paul a new person to love but it was also one more person who would miss out on Martha's love. You and especially the boys will always have that void. You will always feel it. They will always feel it and their kids will go through it too. The good news is, there is life after death and there are lots of good days ahead, trust me on this!! As time goes by you will all have more good days and it is those happy times that get you through the rough spots. I still can see how very raw it is for Paul though, I'm not going to lie. Some moments he can really go there and feel it like it was yesterday. I'm sure it will be the same for you and your boys. I'm so sorry and I wish there WAS an expiration date for grief. Your family is always in my prayers. Love, Mary



It's not like I was happy to know that Paul continues to wrestle with the loss of his mom so many years later, but it does validate what I've been saying. Some of this shit will never go away. Yes, I am blessed in many ways... I have my boys, my incredible Finn, and his 2 kiddos that round out our new family. There has been much laughter, and much joy and I pray that there is still more to come. Unfortunately, none of that can take away the waves of shock, sadness, anger, fear and grief that continue to wash over us. Just sayin...


S
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Rainy Thursday...

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
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