Saturday, August 20, 2011

In the water

Thankfully the reason I have not been writing too much lately is that Wash has been feeling "well" for the past few days so I have had the chance to spend some time with him.

Aside from an unpleasant run in with a newly developed melon allergy this week I've been holding well myself.

Wash has still been "fuzzy" on time - he has a hard time telling the 'how long has it been...' part down with his brain. For him a visit from a year ago feels like yesterday and something he watched an hour ago he might not remember but from when he first saw it in 1989... his sense of time is distorted.

Brain cancer is an odd thing. I have been trying to hold it in my mind how much I need to actively appreciate him as well, not just bemoan my own lack of appreciation. I've told him how I feel, and we have a system where I can be honest with him. I have to remind myself to listen to that same care and give back to Wash for his help, when he does and can remember.

We had a nice spur of the moment date the other day. Decided to go visit the little diner where we spent time as boy and girl friends and got engaged. (Wash publicly proposed with a ring there, we proposed marriage to each other a few weeks earlier at IKEA) and grab some good ice cream. We ended up with fried pickles and a banana split- in two.
It was simple, bad for us but good tasting food, and with sweet sounds on the jukebox playing.

We've managed to get out to the aquarium weekly, still finding things about it to love, watch, explore.

He's almost made it two years with a disease that kills all but 2-3% within 18 months.
It is so powerful and so scary at the same time. Every day I am thankful he is still here, but most nights I fall asleep worrying he will not be waking up the next day.
What is "luck" really then?

Today luck to me feels like the taste in your mouth when you wake and realize that the person you love next to you is still breathing and not dead or gone. That relief tinged with terror at the knowledge that the fear could come true at any time.


  1. Whenever I read G. K. Chesterton's quote, "The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost" ............ well, it simply means more to me as I get older, you know.

    I'm 61 and my husband is 63, (with him having a controlled chronic illness and a minor heart condition); so we're not even in the "Young-Old" category yet, (i.e, 65-74); but our thoughts of losing each other are more frequent now, of course, than they were when we were in our 20s.

    You & Wash genuinely have the type of love that G.K. Chesterton describes ............ but you SHOULDN'T HAVE TO realize it while you're in your 20s, though, i.e., you should ideally (be able to) be AT LEAST as old as my husband and I are, before you have to deal with that "loss possibility."

    Life, (as you & Wash sadly already know too well), is just so-damn-unfair. Cancer has taken way TOO MANY of my past patients; and also way too many of my family members/past co-workers/friends TOO SOON ............ I *HATE* cancer, I really do!!

    Your & Wash's doing all of those "simple" things together, (Above), almost seems like ............ little sparkling specks of *diamond dust*, you know ............ (i.e., which are SO PART OF that larger, awe-inspiring "diamond" of your & Wash's love together, Tashi.)

  2. Hello from Canada. I just clicked on your donate button. My husband's brother lived with brain cancer for 14 years - so your fight is familiar to us.... Unfortunately he lived in the USA and the care wasn't the same as what he could have gotten here. I am so sorry that every day is such a struggle but happy that you can grasp those few hours that are so precious.