Ex_turned_caregiver, bracing for radiation #2

When he stands unsuported, he rocks back and forth from his toes to his heels a little like a drunk, compensating for the sense of balance that seems to have left him; the heartbreaking result of a newly formed met from SCLC to his cerebellum.

He wants to work. Still wakes up every weekday morning and puts on his work clothes. Only now, I have to drive him to his calls (he is a copier technician for a multi-national business machines company).

I watched him wobble into the office door, and I wonder if others would notice his instability. What if he falls? What if...? Oh, SHIT. Just close your eyes and try not to think for a few minutes. I'm sure he'll be out momentarily.

Sure enough, he returned. Breathlessly, he plopped into the passenger seat of his well-worn "work car," with its mere 225,000 miles.

"So how was it?," I asked. "It was unplugged," was his wry reply. "I knew it was easy, that's why we came here."

I had to laugh outloud.

We'd traveled 10 miles, spent 10 minutes, and the Genius Ex repaired this issue in less than a minute! IT WAS UNPLUGGED!

He had known that was the problem before we even left. But he got in his call, and his workday was not a total loss. It's a matter of priorities, I guess.

Tomorrow we begin 15 radiation treatments to The Ex's brain. This is palliative treatment. It won't save his life, though it may extend it somewhat, and -- according to docs -- make his time remaining a lot more pleasant. (Ugly details spared).

It is disheartening to know his voice is lost forever. When I first came back here to care for him last March '09, we bought a voice recorder, because a friend had recommended we do that, since she lost her dad and wished she had more recordings of his voice.

So we bought that recorder, and he never used it to record his voice. All we have left is his voice on the answering machine. Though it was frequently harsh, we already miss it.

Please God... You've been so kind, all this time, to allow us to be together in this great time of need. Please give us strength to endure what is left of this journey, let it bring us closer together, and please let us find light, happiness, peace, and an unplugged copier -- so it can be easy -- in the end.