October 30, 2013: The Post Without a Title


I’ve been meaning to post for awhile. I just have not been able to find the right words to express what is going on. There are some situations that are truly beyond words. And it feels that the nightmare within a nightmare within a nightmare that we are now in twenty-four hours/day is one of them.

Stella was “fine” until last Tuesday. No, she wasn’t really fine. But we were able to go out for a dinner, she made sushi with her mom. We even took in a concert at the local Matnas. So things weren’t terrible.

In an instant everything changed. No, it should not have been surprising what happened. We all were fully aware that with no more treatments that could arrest the spread of the cancer, it would at some point become aggressive and spread. So it wasn’t surprising.

It was shocking.

The cancer viciously took over and shut down her liver. She lost even more weight. She became unsteady on her feet. I need to carry her the few times she can get out of bed.

And each day, she has longer bouts of “confusion.” This disease is leaving no part of her body unscathed.

So now.

Now.

Now. there are no words that can accurately describe what it feels like to watch the pillar of your life disintegrate before your eyes. Every time I think things can’t get worse, they do.

I find myself checking her breathing all the time and trying to brace myself.

We are stuck in a painful limbo. It feels like when you crash on a bike. For a split second you are in the air, above the handlebars, and you wonder just how much the landing will hurt and how much permanent damage you will do.

But a million times worse.

An explosion is coming, any time. And I just can’t comprehend how huge it will be.

At least until last week, Stella and I could sit together and talk about fond memories we have collected over so many years. We could watch television together, and she could still crack a smile.

But not any more.

I would ask for continued prayers, but I don’t even know what we are praying for. No one should have to live like this.

We fought hard. We were fierce. Stella gave the battle everything she had. And never — not a single time — did she lose her temper, express fear, or lash out. All she has said is that she hates putting all of “us” through this.

If there ever is a model of kindness, gratitude, and modesty, it has been Stella.

We are still holding on to every minute.

But honestly, I don’t know how many are left.


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