The nighttime is the "write time", it seems. I've just returned from eating dinner with the rents and the sisters. There's a void with each dinner outing--a glaring hole of "incompleteness". It slaps you in the face when you request a table of five instead of a table of six. Scents and sights of food make Craig nauseated and these have been quite the nauseous times of late. We can't bring dinner over to his apartment and he can't join us at other venues. The pain it brings to leave him out is unbearable, and sometimes one of us will stay back just to keep him company. Other times, Emily keeps him company.
While driving to Brelle's house where the parents and sisters are staying, I asked Craig if he saw Mom's "moment yesterday". (I'll save the moment for a dedicated post). He said yes and asked what that was about. I relayed the conclusion the sisters and I have drawn, that it might be related to loss of control, etc since she has lost nearly all confidence in walking and standing. I asked him if he feels a loss of control with his process, and he said "yeah, kinda--especially when it comes to food." I asked him how that makes him feel, if he feels angry, etc, and he said "well I try not to think about it". It's a heartbreaking reality and one we can't do much about. I even asked him what we could do to help him have more freedom and he said "nothing really". Still, while at dinner, the sisters and I brainstormed options like sucking on hard candy, eating better sorbet or even ice cream--anything that might satiate his appetite and taste buds.
The cruel reality is made worst by the recurring presence of an unwanted guest. The vacationing hiccups have returned with spray-on Florida suntans and cheap beach visors. They are well rested and are giving Craig another nagging assault--albeit not nearly as violent as before. But, this time, the hiccups hurt. Before, they took his breath, they made him choke, they kept him up at night like a pre-adolescent slumber party, but they didn't really cause pain. Now, he frequently requests liquid morphine to cut the edge. This new detail piggybacks increased drug fatigue, nausea, muscle weakness, and increased blood pressure. The guy can't catch a break, and he continues to lose weight. He's at his lightest now at 133, a two pound drop since Tuesday and a five pound drop since last Thursday. I asked the palliative care nurse what accounts for the weight loss and she said that tumors secrete an enzyme, which feed off of muscle, fat, etc. There are drugs out there that can combat this, but a large tumor bulk can overcome any effect drugs might have, even with increased calorie intake or exercise. It's most certainly not Craig's fault, but a product of not moving very often (due to drugs), water loss, and the overall fallout of having cancer. Regardless of his fatigue, he always inquires what the family has been up to and seems to enjoy being with the family, even if it is only to sleep in our presence. In his words, "it seems to work out well" partly because he has a napping buddy in Mom.
Yet, he's had a bit more energy of late and watched a snippet of CSI with the family (and hand-and-hand with Emily, I might add. Very sweet.) before becoming nauseated from Diane's healthy home cooking. Craig even talked back to the TV and made wiseass remarks. ...Just like old times.
Those are the moments you hold dear and hope will never end...
(p.s. I just gave him more morphine....man alive)
~E
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