The C Word - Another Year Gone By

The C Word – Another Year Gone By

As children, do you remember the years being incredibly long.  When school started in September, June felt like a lifetime away. In January, the recent Christmas already a memory and many long months until the next one.  As the years moved on, the years seemed shorter.  In college, just when you started it was time for midterm exams and then finals. 

Now, as we sink farther into our senior years, the years go by at the speed of light.  Or so it sometimes seems.  When things are going well, we wish time would slow down – and yet, when things are not so well we wish time would speed up. 

These past four and a half years have been one long roller coaster of ups and downs, highs and lows, a never-ending cycle of changing and adapting to life with cancer.  This past year is no exception.  

It started off on a rather even keel, the first few months just plodding along.  We forget that we need to pay attention to when time is good, because bad can quickly overpower us.  As we moved into and out of spring, with a CT scan showing more visible movement of the cancer, we found ourselves investigating standard chemotherapy for the first time.  I still remember when we first met Dr. Bastidas back in 2014, the first doctor to give us any hope.  As we prepared for the cytoreductive surgery with HIPEC (Heated Chemo), George told Dr. Bastidas to do everything he could with the cancer – “yank it out, cut it out, suck it out, crush it, destroy it.  Let’s just do it!”   That decision seemed easier than this one – because it held out more hope.

The thought of standard chemo was daunting.  Scary.  I wanted time to stand still – George was ready to leap forward.  Before we knew it, “chemo day” arrived.  Although it was a long day, it felt like it moved quickly.  Little did we know that a few days later we would eat our words – as the suffering began and the days felt long and unending. During the first five days of chemo, I had to stick to a strict schedule of medications, getting up in the middle of the night to keep nausea under control. Those two months (4 treatments) were the longest, most miserable days of George’s life.  For me, they were long quiet days while George slept.  Sometimes days would go by without any real conversation for me.  If I didn’t have my craft/sewing projects to keep me busy, I would have been miserable. 

When we made the decision to stop chemo four months earlier than scheduled, it was a relief yet somewhat frightening.  “Quality versus quantity” of life became our goal.  Yet my definition of quality is different than George’s – and I had to learn to live with that.  Quality does not mean normal – it does not mean fun – it does not mean that we achieve a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction.  Most days, quality just means making it through the day without an emergency. 

While we try to get ‘out of routine’ once in a while, as time marches on this becomes more and more elusive.  George can be doing great one moment, and crash in the very next one.  While most of the time I can deal with all of this, there are moments when I just wish for the old “normal” – for the days when we could just get up and go out and have some fun – go for a drive, a picnic, a vacation.  Of course, even those were tempered long before cancer came into our house as we had the responsibility to care for George’s mom.  It seems like forever ago when George and I dated and went and did things – the beach, a concert, a last minute picnic, a weekend away.  Forever ago….

Nowadays, “getting out” for me is a trip to the grocery store, an occasional movie date with a friend, a few hours volunteering at my old place of employment. Nothing more than a few hours at a time.  Some days, most days, this is enough.  I keep telling myself this won’t be forever – and I dream about the day when I can move about more freely.   I think if I couldn’t dream about what lies ahead – what lies beyond my life as a caregiver – I would go crazy.  Dreaming gives me something to look forward to.  Some may think it cruel for me to be planning for life “after” – especially since we don’t know when that time will come.  Those who know me, however, totally understand.  They understand that between caring for George’s mom and then caring for him, I have been tethered to my home for 13 years, held back from making any long-term plans – for that matter, even short-term plans.  For any plans at all could be thwarted by an emergency or other health issues.  We live in a constant state of “what if”. 

The last few months of 2018 have proved especially tenuous as George has issues far more frequently than he did before.  We seem to be going through a series of two week roller coasters, up and down and up and down again.  There are days we want to shout “Let me off this roller coaster!” 

Yet, as we finish out this final day of 2018, we are so thankful for one of the best Christmas celebrations we’ve ever had.  Even though we had to move the date and celebrate a few days prior to the 25^th, we were able to have a fun day with the family – the kids and grandkids.  I decided that rather than cook a meal (which would have taken time away from just ‘being’ with everyone), that I would take everyone out for dinner.  That turned out to be a great decision.  Not only were we able to share a laughter filled afternoon of exchanging gifts and being in one another’s company, everyone got to eat what they wanted (and even take things home).  I will always remember our Christmas this year.  I cherish the fact that George had a good day, that he enjoyed and took part in conversations, that he was well enough to go out for dinner.  I cherish the fact that our kids and grandkids were here with us, and enjoyed the friendly bantering that took place in our living room.  That was all heavenly to me!

Another year has gone by.  No matter all the crazy ups and downs, all the good and bad and ugly, all the love and laughter and tears… We made it through the year!

As we wrap up another year, we say “Amen”.  Four and a half years ago we never dreamed we would make it this far.  We don’t know if we’ll make it to another Christmas or not.  Only our God knows our days. Every day is a gift.  And we do the best we can with each day He gives us.