Catch-Up

I'm 'back'.
Though, I never really left. I've just not been sleeping much at all for the past almost week and I often cannot write after staying awake for four days.

I read a book series for myself. It was nice to have something I wanted to read, wanted to finish. I don't think I've had a "fun" read since Wash died. I have some books and novels to catch up on.

So, aside from the reading.

Things have been good and things have been tough.

The hard stuff first.

I have lost about a stone (14lbs) in the last two weeks. Not for really trying, or stress, but mostly due to lack of food. This is hard to be honest about, which is likely why I have not said anything, but I don't really have money to get food anymore. SNAP (either due to Arizona State frak-ups, or Federal [Congress] Frakery) has been reduced for me, and with no income, I'm trying to eat on about ~$20.00 for 7 days.
I have no grocery stores I can get to by myself or walking, and I have no funds for a bus pass, since they increased the rates back in March. I have the CVS and the Farmer's Market. Both have a small selection of foods, and both are pretty expensive compared to national brand grocery chains. I do have friends who take me to one of the stores a few miles South of where I live, maybe once or twice a month, but I'm still on a stretched budget. So, I've been averaging about one "meal" a day.
This I am sure is contributing to my tiredness.

I have a lovely friend who is also an animal lover who has been helping me to buy cat-food so the kitties are taken care of. I have a lovely reader here who sent litter as well, which we are all-ALL- very happy for. (Thank you, K.)

But, I have about $36 to my name, and $4 in SNAP food benefits to last me until well into next month. Which is hard. It is hard to be 26 years old and having to ask my mother for help to buy toilet paper, and peanut butter. I have not had much of any luck with finding a short term, or part-time job. Most business close or get smaller for the summer when all the students and SnowBirds leave, and the few who remain, or who move here in the summer before school starts have seemed to taken all the open jobs around here.
I am worried. I have no idea honestly how I am going to pay rent, electricity (it's in the 100sF now. Would you like to live in the sun with no A/C?) or my internet; which is mandatory for me now, as I'm doing some things to get ready for college this summer.

Wash had no life insurance. Neither of us had even health insurance when he was sick!
Side note: our appeal date for AHCCCS was originally on Oct 28th, 2009. I had applied in August when Wash was ill and I knew he needed a real doctor, not a undergrad student at the college health center, and we were denied. I often try not to think how many more weeks or months I might have had with him if the tumor was removed 3 months sooner than it was.
No funds, no insurance, no savings. The bit we had went to our wedding in March of that year; and the whole thing was done for under $1000. Once Wash was not working, not able to work, from the tumor none of us knew was there, my savings were gone to pay rent and food. His parents, before they blamed me for his illness -and death- did help us that summer. I remember Wash crying so much. I remember being told by his father that "this was the true Wash, you're seeing his real personality coming out. He is lazy and unmotivated." Which, really, was entirely untrue- however it was correct in that those were the symptoms of his tumor manifesting.
I try not to be angry about that summer. None of us knew what was really going on inside his brain. The tumor growing, killing healthy cells, pushing his brain- swelling inside his skull. He was not able to be honest with me, or his family, or his friends, or the few campus doctors he did see. None of us put it together until he was in the hospital on Oct 26th.
I try not to think about how it could have been different.
I often fail, but I try.

This May marks 3 years of me being "unemployed"- as my State and the Federal government do not recognize being a fulltime caregiver for your spouse as "employed". Though it should be. Caregivers at home help keep the patient's Quality of Life high, and help keep Medical care costs down by not needing a bed in a care-giving facility. Those of us doing it for the people we love though, we are not paid or compensated. Even though most often in a situation where one partner/spouse is needing the care and the other doing it; neither of them often has income, or enough, coming in. Try living as a terminally ill person with special dietary needs, medication costs, rent, and electricity on ~$800/month. Or less. Often less.
It's hard. It is hard to say to someone who is dying, "No you can't, we cannot afford it."

I've been doing a lot of processing of my feelings, obviously. Which lately has included a lot of tears. I'm not fighting it, and it hurts, but the pain seems to dull more quickly when I don't fight it.

Moving more to the good, now.

I got some sleep last night/this morning. [5am-2pm]
As I was lying down last night, I smelled him. On our-my- pillow, and his bear Hoban. That was a great comfort to me. Maybe that helped. Or, maybe I just hit my wall of not sleeping more than 3 hours since last Thursday.

He would have been so happy and excited for me.
I got in to my college programme. I'm doing fundraising to cover the costs; like the down-payment for classes, and uniforms, and airfare. I am also applying like mad to every scholarship that I can. I am working hard on this, because this is for me. I have not done anything for myself since Wash was ill, even before.
I took a holiday in late spring of 2008. I married Wash in early 2009. That is really the only things that come to mind over the last 5 years that were in any way "for myself".
I want this. I want to go back to school, at least, in this small way. It is a summer term, so just under 2 months long, and not as much pressure as re-enrolling for a whole school year, or even a normal term. That might still be too much for me right now.
But this? This is perfect.
It is an all women's college. Dorm life. A town about the size of where I live, in Tempe. Lots of gardens. Outside classes. Peaceful parks. More so, it is in Israel and is history I can study and touch. This is a chance for me. This is a chance for me to find something inside myself. Some passion.
When I was about 8 years old, I read a novel (the third in a long, and still continuing series) that moved me and impressed on me so much I still re-read it yearly. A strong young heroine, adventures, dangers, and in this book- a trip to Israel. Archaeological sites and digs, and reading in original Hebrew and Aramaic words written by human hand thousands of years ago.
To me, that was the epitome of excitement. A small fire inside me started when I read that book, and I knew in my lifetime I wanted to travel there. I wanted to have a chance to walk in the Old City. I wanted to read those words written so so so long ago. I wanted to smell the air; so different I imagine from anywhere else I've been.
I have that chance now. More. I have a chance to learn for myself. To seek out the direction to continue on.

There is no "moving forward" or "moving on" from my husband's death. It will always be with me, and a part of me. But, I have been able over the last few months to heal enough to begin to see the world with me in it instead of mourning the loss of the we. 
This is a large and important step, and I am recognizing that.
My therapy team is also quite encouraging in this, as are my family and all my friends.
I like to think they are happy to see my desire to do something-anything- again. In a way, I am too.
There is still a part of me that wants to just sit in my closet, hold his TARDIS urn, and cry. Forever.

I'm growing to see that not only is that closer to impossible, it gives me no quality of life. That, he would mind.
School, though? Things being different, him being alive, both of us working, he would take me out to celebrate and encourage me every step of the way on this. He is the cheerleader inside my head. Much cuter than Teri/Ferrell though.

Things going well and I can raise the funds, get scholarships, and take care of all the other details? I'll be in Safed by the end of June and back home sometime in August.

I am also working on a few projects to hopefully get some of the novellas/short stories Wash wrote and illustrated published. The cancer could not take his creative imagination from him, and perhaps knowing that his works, his passions, were "alive" in a way, being read, being appreciated, will help me. Knowing that he is not forgotten.

That is where I am at.

My belly might be hungry, but my self has Hope to feed on again.

Union Mandated Break

So, for now, my garden is "done". [Maybe one more veggie or light set...]

I planted all the summer flowers and pulled up the winter bulbs to store away 'til Oct. I have new pepper varieties, new tomatoes, strawberries, herbs.... I have a little solar light turtle, and glass water bulbs to go in some containers. There is new bright colours ALL OVER the back garden. I also got new solar lights on the umbrella, so at night it looks like stars! I got rid of the trash (except the bikes, I want to donate those) and put in new lights around where the wild mint is growing. I'll put pics up after Wash sees it on the off chance he's checking my blog from his Hospice library.

I already cleaned the kitchen and fridge and I'm purposely not cleaning the living room or office. The bedroom is about the same. I'm doing MY laundry so it's done.

I have breakfast leftover, and my friend is taking brunch to Wash in a half hour.

I slept about 7 hours last night, but I'll have a chance for a nap before we get Wash this afternoon.

Time for one more Harry Potter, I think.

I had a good chance to get some rest, to get some things done, to clean, to laugh, to treat myself.

I had my nails done with one of my best girl-friends. I got to have a LONG phone conversation with an old friend. I got to sleep on the whole bed.

I missed Wash, to be sure. A lot. Perhaps not as much as Leto... that cat pretty much has stayed 4 days waiting at the front door for Wash to come home.

I will need more time again, this I know. I will need more rest.

I needed this break though. I needed the time to stay sane, to come back out of depression and Sneaky-Hate-Spiral.

I perhaps don't feel "happy" per se, but I no longer feel vast emptiness. I can see Hope again. I can see myself alive and as an independent person after Wash dies, for I think the first time.

I also feel stronger to be kinder and patient. I needed that.

This was a good thing.

Gentleman Caller

Wash is settled in at the Hospice Home for the next little bit. He got a nap in and told me his first meal there was a burrito and rice. He seems upbeat. I feel a lot better, but still miss him in a way that calls me back to his first few days in the hospital and when I was dragged back home to rest.

So it's just me home now, with the kitties and a 5 gallon bottle of water mis-delivered to me today.

I lived alone from 17-22. Never had a roommate as an adult. Wash was the first person I lived with outside my family. It feels odd, and I can remember so many details from that time, when it was just me (and then Aelphie).

I'm also just having it sink in that it can be about ME for right now. There are others to worry and care for Wash. To help him. To calm him. To make him happy, right now. The now can be about me, for the first time in far far too long as a human.

I'm going to pick some clothes tomorrow, new clothes and not from a donation store.

I have no obligations for Sunday, for the first time in as long as I can recall. Years.

I will wake for me; not for or because of someone else. (Unless the kitties get REAL hungry and loud!)

I can have silence if I want.

My fridge has no meat in it for the first time in a long long long time. I'm beyond happy.

There's a part of me that misses him and thinks of him every second, what he might be doing, thinking, needing- if he is missing me too?

I know rationally he will be fine, and he can contact me if something is amiss.

With time and distractions I think that part will quiet down on it's own, not with my work.

I will have time for me, where it is ok and safe to be "selfish". At least until Monday.

It's been 7 hours since I've seen or touched him. I need to sleep, to relax, to calm down, to emote.

I have my family, friends, and kitties to help.

"Everything will work out in the end; if it has not worked out, it's not the End." - Best Marigold Hotel

Debate answers

We were up until 3am last night. I cried myself to sleep for the first time in a long time.

The past 24 hours have been, in a simple word, hard.

Wash took some time to really reflect on his life lately and what truly has happened in the last two years.

He has been living in a play world I have helped to create. It's partly my fault for just trying to give him the "best" and "easiest" life; though perhaps not the most honest.

We have issues, and for the most part, I just eat the pain and leave it; he's the one dying, right?

It's not fair. It's not fair to his end of life or my own. Neither one of us is happy.

We talked. For hours. Had a real nice "come to jeebus" type of conversation. Wash was able to really express himself and his fears to me for the first real time in two years. He's scared. He's scared of the pain and dying and scared about a tumor that could leave him paralyzed. He's scared about how much of his life he has already lost and what he cannot even remember of the last two years.

He tends to deflect ; that is not the tumor, just his personality. I hope he did hear me when I had the chance to explain to him just how painful his deflections onto me are.

A big part of the stress comes from his just lack of respect.

He had a chance to really reflect and this is what he came up with;

*He does not remember how sick he was

*He does not remember each day how sick he might be

*He recalls he has memory issues, but not how bad

*He did not want to believe in his brain cancer. He did not like thinking it was true he has a terminal cancer

*If he hold onto those thoughts then he does not have to confront his own mortality

*If he does not have to confront his mortality, then he's not really dying/sick

*If he's not really sick, he does not have to listen to Tashi or his doctors

*If he doesn't have to listen to Tashi or his doctors, he does not have to respect them either

*If he doesn't respect Tashi then he must be ok and not really sick or dying

(His logic progression)

We had a good chance to really explore these thoughts and how harmful to him and me they really were. I did contact Hospice yesterday for some help, along with his social worker.

It's so hard. It's hard to love someone you have to watch die. It's hard to fight for what you know and believe to be their best interest when they (sometimes) cannot even see how much they need. I want our life to be happier, even if on a smaller scale, before he dies. I want a chance to enjoy my husband, not my charge. I want to be a wife, not a caregiver.

I had at most 6 weeks when we got married before the tumor got to him. Not 6 years, or 60. I had 6 weeks. 6 weeks of love then my world turned to a hell for months before his tumor caused a visible and almost deadly grand mal.

Respect is so important to really any relationship, but for our marriage it is essential. I know what brain tumors can do, I know how they can change personalities and bring forth anger. I know that and I understand. However, Wash still insists and I do believe that he has to a degree, control. He makes choices on his own. He decides some days to be mean and disrespectful because he can, because he has no other way to act out, and he feels - or felt, that he HAD to act out. I get upset and hurt emotionally when he does those things out of purposeful disrespect to me. Some times he fucks up. Some times I do. I don't get mad or upset at that, life and crap happens.

There have been a few occasions though over the last few years where he has been fully aware of his decisions and the effects they would have on me and us, and he chose to do the thing that hurt me over being honest.

We're being sued now, and honestly it is both our faults. I did not do my diligence and check to see just what he had done when his tumor was crazy. I accepted his word on some things, accepted that he said "I can and will and have taken care of the issue."

He did not.

And I did not check up on his work.

And now I have a suit in court to deal with.

Wash does not want to go into a Hospice home. He does not want to move out of state and he does not want his parents or a stranger caring/nursing for him. He wants to stay married to me and die in this house that we have made into our home.

I am still willing to fight to make this happen for him.

Death is fucking scary. Dying at 27 years old, even more so. I cannot put myself in that place, much as I try. I cannot take his cancer away, or put it upon myself.

The most right now I can do is not be silent. Is not hide his end of life behind a window of "He's fine". It is to be respectful of his wishes, while making sure to have respect for myself. It is not to lie to him, even if it saves the pain. If we're lucky to even get one more whole year while fighting this cancer, I don't want more time between us wasted on lies.

I can be honest about what it is like to face death. What is is like to watch the brain turn on itself, the painful parts, the wonderful moments worth holding onto, and the nobility of fighting when there is no real chance to survive.

I don't want my love to die. I don't want him to have cancer, or to suffer. It's not about what I want, though, and life will sometimes make you watch the thing you want so very much to avoid.

Right now though, it's not about me. It's about being honest enough to help my husband want to live - as long as he can have.

That's where we ended up at today. The house is still needing cleaning. I have errands to run. I have papers left to write and file for insurance. Sometimes mental issues have to take precedence.

Some days are burdens, some days are gifts. Such is life for everyone. Knowing death is so close though, daily it changes my perspectives.