So, lots of hissing and running.
It amuses Wash an' me. As does giving them some new cat toys covered in catnip. (Thanks Auntie Shannon!) Soon my step-bro will be back in town for a holiday and I will wrangle him into helping us shave Leto for the summer. Step-bro has a large cat he shaves as well, so it will be good to have help.
Heard some good family news last night as well; my (step) dad was let go from his last job a bit ago and has been trying to get a new one. Looks like as of next Mon hopefully he will be back at work, doing something that makes him happy. Sadly at the same time as this, my mum has had her work cut back again. I say this not as really that much of my own worry, just to more clearly point out that my family is separate and dealing with their own survival issues.
Wash has finally thought about it and declared that "before he dies" he wants a chance to meet Adam Baldwin, Joss Whedon, Jane Espenson, George Takei and some others. Basically the people geeks drool over at 'Cons.
I want to make this happen for him. Be it at the Phoenix ComicCon or maybe even SDCC. I just don't really know how. I would love input from my Dear Readers if they have some.
There is a reason this has taken on a new urgency for me. In the past 5 weeks 3 other people we know with GBM IV (in their 30's-50's) have had tumors recur. Seems one is going into Hospice, the other two might go through surgery. They are all at 18 months-3 years past initial dx date.
Wash has his next MRI at the end of the month.
No matter how well I might think he is, or others, or himself the truth is that with brain tumors by the time you know just by looking - it's too late. He will look fine until maybe 3 weeks before he dies. Such is the nasty nature of a brain tumor.
This is why it makes me wince and flare with anger when someone says to him he "looks good" or "looks healthy". Sure, he might. But he doesn't have skin cancer here, it is in his brain. No one is going to just look at him and judge him "healthy" or "ill"--- but they do. I suppose that it hurts so much because I see him all the time- his good moments and his bed bound days. I see him at times wake up and get his morning routine done flawlessly, and more often I see him when he cannot remember a word, or thought, or placement. I see him on a walk around the block and I see him when he stays in bed for 18 hours because he is physically still sick and has fatigue issues.
It breaks my heart every day.
Yet, I don't think I could make it through a day without knowing that at some point I will get to lie down next to my love and fall asleep being able to touch and smell him.
I cannot escape the reality of what is to come. Reminders of it flourish around me every day.
I often wonder how society would react or change if suddenly the majority of people realized that each day could be their last. Would you hug someone tighter? Say kinder things? Give more of yourself? Care less about material things and more in the transient world?
All going well I should be giving a friend a driving lesson tonight.
I can hate the cancer, and I do, but I am sincerely trying to learn to be thankful of the journey around it; the love it has exposed me to and the true kindness of other human beings; from the surgeon who worked so hard to remove the tumor and leave my husband's brain as whole as possible to the doctor on his panel who fought to have him get therapy instead of palliative care, to the friend who came and literally fed me and watched me rest after being awake at the hospital for almost 4 days... to the MedicAlert clerk who helped us to get free service, to the manager of a tire shop for repairing my tire fast and free so I could get Wash from the doctor's office, the random strangers who sent us loving Christmas gifts and postcards from all over the world. I have seen the love found in a business fraternity to unite to help try and ease the financial burden of one of their own. For the friends who used to be strangers until we shared stories and gained support.
Despite the viciousness of having to watch him - my husband's self - fade away, I am able to try and really hope for the Best in humanity. It has often let me down, but this journey has also shown me to not tire of trying to always think of Hope.