I miss, I believe, I love, I quit
Last night as I was trying to fall asleep I was writing a blog post in my head about all the things I miss. I miss live music in my living room. I miss wandering. I miss finding signs. I miss obsessing over what I'm going to cook for the next concert. I miss my sister, Judi. I miss my parents. I miss my little boys. I miss, I miss, I miss. Then I started thinking that sounded like a song I knew. I puzzled over it. Buzzcocks kept coming to mind. Then I decided I was confusing 'I miss' with 'I love' and I was thinking of Tom T. Hall so I let myself drift off.
This morning I still had the Buzzcocks in my head so I went online and realized I thinking of I Believe. That led my brain a little further down a path and I remembered another song. I couldn't think who it was but I finally figured it out: I Quit by the Meat Puppets. I googled '"cantaloupe + mickey mouse" song lyrics' to figure that one out. If I were more talented I could do a great mashup....I believe, I love, I quit....
Here's my inspiration...a mashup of Abba and Pete Shelley that I pull out every so often.
The last few days have been a tad rough. Ernie was doing ok but on Wednesday he started feeling worse....nausea, vomiting, fatigue, not wanting any food. I go on high alert as I don't want him getting dehydrated for numerous reasons...number one being that I don't want him back in the hospital.
Yesterday we dragged him to his scan. He's gotten so weak that he had to stop and sit down numerous times before we got to nuclear medicine, then through a labyrinth to a waiting room. It was a little six person waiting room in the basement of Carle. He got his injection. We then had to wait three hours for his scan. He was so sick he opted to just stay in the waiting room. I suggested we go to the cafeteria which is also in the basement, or upstairs to the Starbucks, but it was just too much for him. So we sat. And sat. He did a crossword, occasionally dozing off. He has yet to truly perfect my father's technique in which he could fall asleep while doing a crossword, wake up and calmly fill in a word. THAT was impressive.
He finally got his scan, which took an hour. That can be a long time to lay on a table, particularly while in pain and experiencing wretched symptoms. Five hours after we arrived at Carle we arrived back home. He promptly started vomiting...and that's with no food in him. Sigh. He slept and eventually I got him to drink a vanilla milkshake made with Boost and after that some water with electrolytes. That was pretty much the day. Then up in the night numerous times.
This morning, as a special little birthday treat (my poor boy....I've been so focused on getting through each day that I have nothing for his birthday...fortunately we're not big gifters, but just the same, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERNIE! I got you a trip to the hospital and the cancer center!) he had yet another scan. This time I had someone push him in a wheelchair while I trailed behind with my walker. JFC. How are we here? Anyway, his scan got done pretty quickly from a somewhat charmless tech. I felt so bad for the older man next to us as she talked to him. I wanted to shout, "for God's sake, he can't HEAR you and he's worried about his wife...could you SPEAK UP?" Ugh. Just painful. We asked for another wheelchair and somebody came with one and guided us through the labyrinth to the main waiting room, then we had to wait for another person to come and take us upstairs and to valet parking. I thought about trying to push the wheelchair myself and have him carry my folded up walker but it just seemed like too much so I trailed along again. I almost cried with relief when we got to the bench by valet parking.
Next he had a blood draw in the Cancer Center. It seemed crazy to drive across the street but he certainly couldn't make it walking and I don't know that I could have as well. We headed to the South Clinic and he promptly started throwing up. We sat there for a bit and then we turned over our car and went into the Cancer Center with Ernie still clutching his vomit bag. It's amazing what you don't care about when you're really sick. I'm very pleased with my purchase of vomit bags. Something tells me I'll be buying more.
Not too much planned for the day. We had hoped to go to dinner at Fries and Peanuts with Owen and Trinity (Leo's out of town) but that is not to be. Hopefully I'll get a bit of food into him. He said he'd try another milkshake later.
As we drove away from the Cancer Center I told him that no matter our challenges, I'd flirt with him again at Record Service or Mabel's in a flash. He just looked at me and shook his head.
A while back, in conversation, I said to my friend Renee, "I couldn't love him more," and she said, "Oh, yes, you could," and I know what she means now. It's as though every step we take through this mess, I love him more.
Happy birthday, baby.
Top: An old birthday picture from 1993, when I kidnapped him for his birthday and took him to Nashville. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....