Fragile, Handle With Care

Tomorrow is Doctor Day (this was started January 26th). I for one, am eager to talk to the oncologist. I want to ask him about those lab numbers. I want to ask him about the future. Papa is entering what I call "the count down." He only has five more chemo treatments left if the doctor sticks to the original schedule. What then? How often will he have to have lab work done once chemo is through. How often will he have to have CT scans done? He should have one of those coming up pretty quick too. We are not going to know what to do with ourselves once this current routine is finished.

Already Papa is talking about camping. He is eager to go but I can't help but remember that last trip. He loves the fact that if we want, we can now stay at campgrounds for an extra day or two because there is no rush to get back home so he can go to work. Son # 2 wants us to bring the camper out to his house and stay in it there. He has a big yard, a fire pit for bon fires, he has a nice picnic area and a yard swing, we would be very comfortable. He wants his dad close at hand, he wants to build memories of us interacting with grand daughter Noelle, who is soon to be one year old. I am sure we will be taking him up on his offer and the like offer from Son #1. We find ourselves much in demand... : )

Papa is also talking about getting his motorcycle ready. Last year he was able to ride it once. The rest of the time he just did not feel well enough. I worry about him being able to hold the damn thing upright! His bike is a very big one, 1500 cc's and it's heavy and it's as long as some small cars. Right now he is very weak, from illness but also from lack of exercise. We have an exercise area in the basement... free standing weights, a treadmill, stationary bike, heavy bag and speed bags... and he mentions going down there at least once daily but he never makes it even as far as the basement steps. I hope that once chemo is over he will begin to regain his energy so he is able to do some of the activities he has always enjoyed.

I am very happy that he is speaks of these things. To me it means that HE feels he has a future. He believes he has time left to enjoy his life for a while yet. I pray he is right.

One thing I have noticed about Papa though... this ordeal has aged him, and not like fine wine or good cheese either. He looks older than his 61 years, he talks like an old man too. He worries and mutters and complains like someone far beyond his years. His body is old, it has changed so much that I hardly recognize it from a year ago. He has lost so much weight that his skin sags, especially on his upper arms. He walks with his shoulders slightly hunched over, he shuffles his feet a bit. His face is much thinner and then there is that belly with its myriad of scars and the new lumps and bumps that change position as you watch, and grow only to recede the next moment. He has a "Twilight Zone" belly or maybe "Alien."

I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid to hug him or to lean on him. I can't lay my head on his shoulder because that is where his chemo port is (upper chest by his shoulder actually). I can't fling my arm across his abdomen cause I am afraid to put pressure on his always tender stomach and all the scars. I can't even punch him on the arm when he aggravates me just because he always knows which buttons to push, I might knock him over... he knows it too, and takes advantage of the fact. I'm afraid to be intimate with him... he says it's not going to hurt him but then, he would say that wouldn't he? Yes, he would. For a long time after his surgery sex was out of the question. I suppose I should take it as a sign that he is feeling better, that he is thinking of this again.

It's strange how intimacy can change, or rather I should say, how we demonstrate intimacy can change. We have had to adapt to Papa's changing tolerances. You can not give a strong, full frontal, arms around ya, squeezing hug to someone who has abdominal pain. For months now we have had to give Papa what we call "Lia hugs." You put your hands on the person's shoulders, close the gap a little bit and lean your head in... that's it. No real contact, no real closeness. But I touch him. We sit on the couch together... it's a sectional and he has the best spot, back in the left hand corner with his legs at a full stretch down the length of one entire section. There is just enough room for me to sit at his feet. When I read I put my hand on his ankle, I rub his foot sometimes, sometimes we stretch out our hands to hold each other's for a bit. Mae-Mae flits from one of us to the other and soon the couch is littered with baby books and all her favorite toys and snackies. We are always having to shoo one or another of the dogs away so Mae can play near us... they want to be in the mix too. That corner of the couch has become the focus of the house.

January 28. Yesterday was doctor day. It was a good day. We did not have to wait to see the doctor (last time we had to wait and wait and wait... they forgot we were in the room because the nurse forgot to put the chart in the door. The doctor did not know we were in there till I went screaming out into the hallway). He said he is very happy with Papa's progress. He said he is not concerned with the CA19-9 numbers at this point but that he will continue to monitor them every few weeks. He scheduled another CT scan for in March and then he spoke of seeing Papa every few months for the next several YEARS!! It was very encouraging.

Only four chemo treatments left.