Cancer doesn’t take a break for anything or anyone. Mike got up Friday morning at 4am, and drove from Kentucky to Ohio State for treatment. While we were in Kentucky he had another of the episodes of having difficulty breathing, and actually had to take a puff on someone elses inhaler it got that serious. We were worried that these episodes have increased in frequency, and it was something we wanted to address with the doctor.
The doctor gave him a script for an inhaler, and scheduled him for a Pulmonary Function Test at U of M next week to make sure that his lungs are functioning ok, and that the immunotherapy isn’t causing some funky thing with his lungs.
Mike being the man that he is drove to Ohio State, spent all day there, and drove home Friday evening. We had gotten a foot of snow while we were gone, so of course that was waiting for him. He went out to snowblow our driveway, and promptly suffered another asthma attack in the driveway. Thankfully, he had picked up the inhaler, and crawled down the driveway to the car and got it. It worked instantly. I was driving home from Kentucky when he called to tell me what had happened. Of course I called him every 30 minutes for the next 4 hours until I got home, and put my eyeballs on him. Cancer is relentless, but so am I.
Anyhow, he got treatment 21, and his weight stayed steady at 170 from his previous visit.
As for me, I am dealing with my grief at the loss of my dad, and the after effects of his funeral and estate. Grief is slowing me down, and I am trying to be patient and kind to myself. The soap opera version of this would have me crying beautiful tears, and making big pronouncements on life. The reality of it is clinging to Mike at night begging him to never leave me, and breaking down in ugly tears in inappropriate places like the local pancake house.
I have been comforted more than you know by your messages of condolences, your support, and love. I have had at least 10 people tell me that my dad was their best friend, and more than I can tell you who have told me that they loved him. A young woman at his funeral told me that my dad made her feel special, and beautiful. That is who he was. He lived his life spreading love, and kindness.
I have been doing things that would have cracked him up like wearing my ridiculous 5 inch high heel boots, that make me 6 ft tall, and ordering bottles of wine in restaurants. I had never ordered a bottle of wine in a restaurant in my life until the other night, but my dad went through a period of time when he was doing that and I did it in tribute. I told Mike we would cork the bottle and take it home, but of course we drank the whole thing.
Grief is the consequence of loving deeply, and I will keep loving, laughing, and grieving.