lobbies and bedrooms

i dont think i can be one of those people again. not that i dont want to. i cant. there are people sleeping uncomfortably on chairs, the floor, up against the vending machine. They moved her to this part of the hospital. i blocked out the fact that it could be because she's worse. but just 10 minutes prior, before she moved, no one camped out.
i stood there and looked at them repositioning themselves knowing that they were thinking that if they could just move a little bit and get to a comfortable spot without the hard edge of the chair digging in to them or the draft blowing right in there face or their head covered enough so they didnt hear the Code Blues over the intercom, they could fall asleep just for a little bit. at least until they were awaken by their arms or legs tingling and numb.
i cried and cried. i havent cried in a month.

frank sinatra (6)

my cousins moved their wedding up. we didnt know why. our first guess was that she was pregnant. I asked him what he thought. He told me that I would find out later. i could not even guess what it was. it took me until Nov. 12th to realize. he knew. he knew he would be dead. he would not be at the october wedding.
the wedding was in the beginning of july. they left the next day for experimental tx in texas. 3am, they were driving down there to start the most horrible 5 months of our lives.
he looked so good. it was the last time i saw him not in a hospital bed or in pain or drugged or crying or screaming or lying at delmar gardens dead. judith looked AMAZING. when i told him that, he said 'well shes going to need to keep looking that way bc shes going to have to find a new husband soon.' i told him to shut up and with tears in my eyes, he said 'i forgot, i cant say things like that to you, you're too sensitive.'
we danced. and i hugged him. and kept hugging him. i couldnt let go of him. he said to me that it would be okay. he said it would dammit. but i knew. i didnt know though. i didnt realize that would be it. that would be the last time b4 i would be consumed with medications and nurses and doctors and moans of pain and chemo and radiation and death sentences and tumors that smelled like the bottom of a dumpster.
i dont know what i would have done if i knew that would be the last time. i feel like i would have done something different. but i dont know what.

legless tick (5)

Ed said he would amputate both legs. they said it would only give him another couple of months, and that is if he made it through the surgery. at this rate, they said he had a 12% chance of making it through. BUT, even though tumors havent metastasized above his waist, they were 100% sure cancer cells were present so it was just a matter of time.

that ticking mother fucker.

its not helping and we shouldnt stay. (4)

dr. hwu taught me what someone's eyes who was just about to give a death sentence looked liked. eyes that i would continue to see for months. hope trys to hang on to the words, but if you look in the eyes-you will see. i was sitting on the fold out chair, and i use 'fold-out' very loosely. judith was sitting on the metal chair in the corner.
"the scan showed no improvement of tumor size or amount"
"should we keep trying with the treatment to see if it will help, maybe its not enough time?"
"i do not think that is the answer. the scan showed the amount of tumors have slightly increased and tumor size has increased, (excruciating pause) increased quite a bit. the treatment is not helping"

::Quite a bit? can you use some quantitative terms mr. medical school?::

holding back a waterfall of tears, judith asked what the next step was if we were told this experimental treatment was one of our only options?
(i could see the guilt and regret and what ifs of not doing the experimental tx availible at the mayo clinic or washington univ.)
but the end result would have been the same. those decisions are just illusions of control.

only option was chemotherapy. but he was too sick at this point dr. hwu said. he could get well enough to do the treatment and do it at MD Anderson.
That was not an option. Judith's experience with md anderson was horrible. but it wasnt really the hospital, it was knowing she only had a few good non-suffering days left with the only man she has ever loved.

and i still had hope (3)

"im sorry im not strong enough. i'm just not strong enough. I'm sorry to let you down" it just keeps circling my head. and his face full of tears.
and i just wanted to hug him so hard. and i couldnt bc of the tubes and wires and...

St. johns ICU. room 5. Nurse Bethany. maggots.

holy father (2)

i was a confirmation sponsor for my cousin, which is just really funny if u know me. i walked into the church and down to the school cafeteria where we were meeting and lining up to be 'touched by the holy spirit'. the religion teacher in charge of this lovely catholic tradition, who was a real bitch, said some words and then welcomed the priest. i looked at him and felt sick. it was him. of course it was him. st. gerad magellens pastor. eds parish. one of the priests at the funeral. he came up to me afterwards and said, 'your ed's niece, right? you were the one that took care of him?' 'yes, (but i didnt do quite a good enough job, did i?). its good to see you'.

let the fun begin (1)

i was laying in bed at my old apartment, hungover and cutting the shit out of myself. my mom called. 'he is a lot worse. they don't know exactly what is wrong with him but he is acting crazy and judith can't/shouldn't handle it herself, can u go down earlier?' 'i will call you right back'. it was 10am.
the airlines are surprisingly nice when you tell them your father is dying of cancer and you need to get down to MD Anderson asap. my flight that was suppossed to leave Aug 8th was now leaving on July 24th at 9pm.
i packed. called jody. a little relieved i was going to get away from the consuming guilty feeling of knowing i was using her and wanted it to end long b4. little did i know i would be entering a much more guilt filled horrible situation that ive been trying to claw my way back since