Craig’s sleeping with a wash cloth draped over his eyes -- afternoons tend to be quiet times at our little resort. Like yawning, watching someone sleep causes sleepiness…then again, maybe Diane and I are just lazy or perhaps suffer from what we've dubbed narcosleepy. In any event, it’s usually lights out at 1p.m. When we’re not watching Craig nap, we’re helping him prepare for a nap…;) or other things like showering, saran wrapping the pic-line, or morning strolls down the hotel, er, hospital hallway. We’ve also engaged in fierce battles of Uno, and the occasional Scrabble.
On good days, we’ll watch Craig’s favorite Woody Allen movies, or talk about gorging ourselves on different types of food. He started IV chemo (Torisel) two weeks ago Thursday and now has a TPN line for nutrition, since the tumors in his abdomen have grown to a point of obstructing his intestines. He's unable to keep food or water down, as a result. Since the TPN, he’s been dreaming of food; Indian food seems top on the list. As he said, he’d eat it all, starting with chicken tikka masala, saag paneer, and some eggplant stuff, for which he can’t remember the name. I'm reminded of our time in Malaysia where Craig and I ate authentic Tamil food from bamboo leaves at a local restaurant. We twice waded through streets lined with huge stereos blaring Bollywood music just to eat there -- how I wish we could go back.
We’re trying to keep things as normal as possible. Yesterday, Diane and I surprised him with an Easter hunt where we had him search for an Easter bag filled with gum and jolly-ranchers which we hid in the hospital Solarium. Heck, he should at least be able to suck on candy, right? Diane drew a picture of a bunny with two IVs on its paw...made him laugh. At least we're laughing.
To say this is hard is an understatement. The subtle and growing frustration of being absolutely powerless makes this even more difficult. As much as we try to help, the simple truth is there’s little we can do. We have to rely on science to do its thing, and at the same time, remain positive and hopeful for some alternative – be it science, technology, or something else – to make this all quietly go away.
We’re all trying to keep the fight, with mom and Craig leading the way. I’m spending most of my days calling clinics, researching RCC, fielding phone calls, and catching up on work (as much as I can). Mom was scheduled to fly to Denver last weekend along with dad, but was taken to the ER with a kidney infection. Craig spoke with her earlier that morning; the absurdity of them talking to each other from their respective hospital beds was simply laughable... again, at least we're laughing.
Mom's hanging in there and they're gearing up for a trip to Michigan this week. This will be the first time she’s seen most of her family since her diagnosis in August. She’s defied all odds, and continues to meet each new challenge with a newfound determination – she is, after all, the lady who invented the Oklahoma salute. She’s giving GBM the old Oklahoma salute every time she goes to the gym, or goes out for dinner at Crapplebees or the Texas Roadhouse. Every day, she comes with new Maryisms that make us shake our heads and smile. ..The latest,”Blackbirds are bitches”…so true. As I told Craig today, the Lawler family puts the CAN in cancer...;). Laughter's our antidote. -- Jill
or as i say, texas bloathouse.
ReplyDeleteso true, jilly. we're a CAN do family--more ways than one!