ARCHIVES - 1996 to FOREVER

That seems to be every day lately.

When Reta nd I got there this morning, she had eaten a little bit of her breakfast, not much at all.

She wasn't making much sense, all in all... and appeared to be very weak.

Jan got there about 10:00 or so, and Reta and I came home for a while a little after noon.

Jan called as we were eating some of Morty's' fine brisket and potatoes, Karen was wanting to know where I was... so we got there about a half-hour later.

Karen was sitting on the bed, and she told me that she just wanted to go home.

Her mind seems to be operating at about a six-year-old level, dammit.

She started crying, and I held her and started crying too.

This whole fucking thing is just so wrong, so very fucking wrong.

A doctor came in about 16:30 and talked with me a while... she thought that Karen might be having a relapse of the urinary tract infection, and said that she would order a UA... if it was indeed that, she would get her started on antibiotics, and she thought if there was an infection, that could be the cause of the confusion.

The other possibility is, of course, metastasis to the brain... but one of the nurses told me today that they can often treat that successfully with steroids on a temporary basis, of course. The confusion could be caused by pressure in the skull, and the steroids could help with that.

She is just really tired of being sick and tired, and sometimes she knows that she is confused at other times.

This whole thing is torture to me... and other people who love her, of course.

Reta is staying with her tonight, and Jan and I will relieve her tomorrow morning. Reta is such an angel, I am really lucky to have her.

All of my life, with one notable exception, I have managed to surround myself with remarkable good-hearted women... a lot of that has been luck, of course, but I've really tried to stay away from the other kind.

Karen was having a lot of trouble with coordination today, she spilled her milk again, and that started her up once more on wanting to go home, to run away, somehow, from this awful disease that's eating her up, piece by piece....

I knew going in, nine months ago, that this was going to be hard. I had no real idea how truly hard that it is.

And I am not the first husband to lose his wife this way, and I won't be the last... but damn... does it have to be this way?

Fuck cancer. Just fuck it.