Back to the Junk Yard

Not a very good title for a post, is it?

Anyway I continue to sort through this.  Back in 2011 was when it all became real for me.   I think earlier that year we had what will forever be known as the "Gas Incident"  That would have been on Feb 14 of 2011.  It could have been 2010 but I really think it was 2011. (must investigate)  Most likely 2011.   The kids came down in 2012.

That summer she was working at North Country in Winslow.  On her last day she sneezed real hard and broke one of her ribs.  I think it was around the end of July.  What was going on would become apparent on December 8th of 2011.  Hmmm, gas incident in Feb ending with cancer diagnosis in Dec. - kind of a sucky year.  I caught December 8th closer to the event in this entry.

So I guess it kind of started end of July?

So my brother-in-law just talked about a webcam that he uses to monitor his mom's home because his mom kind of needs to be watched.  I was interested in a webcam to watch the front of the garage because I can't see what is out there from the house.  I have to go to the garage and open up the garage door to see what is out there.  So I just went and looked up webcam. Not good, Not good for someone like me.

Just trying to think back to that time. At that time Wendy was my girlfriend.  I was still basically living at Alyson's. However, after December of 2011, I basically moved into her house.

Digging around in the Wreckage.

Well, I guess that is about all I can do now. I wonder what happened to Myra44.  You out there?  I am back out here.  We walked along on the path for a while then she left.  Don't know what happened.  Think I got too positive.

Anyway, think I'll just keep digging to see if I can find anything.

[Starts to dig; Talks while digging - actually not really digging so much as moving debris out of the way]
Once again, I am surrounded by the wreckage.  This time, I'd like to think I did not cause this. I certainly had a part in it in that I got on the train knowing full well where it might be headed.  But you know what, nothing would have or would keep me off that train.  Knowing how the trip went and the time I had, I'd do it again.

Ya know there still is wreckage from ten years ago out here.  Just remnants though.  See there.  [points to a scrap piece of metal on the floor] that one belonged to Myra.  [Stops, reflects] Yeah, I was still creating some to wreckage back then.

Yeah, she's gone. Just traces that's all.

[Stops, looks at camera.]
Anyway, I am just trying to sort things out. I started by reviewing the time line.  I think when I look at the whole thing in a clinical manner, it just doesn't hurt as much.  So I tried to map a little bit of it out in the previous post.  Just sorting out the pieces, putting similar pieces together in their only little areas kind of like a jigsaw puzzle, ya know?  I don't know why that would help but it seemed to make me feel better.

So I am recording it all here, just like I did before.  That's what made me think of Myra.  She was cute and I was hurt and I fell.  She liked this firefighter dude but was married.  I would obsess about her for a little bit but really not too much.  I mean thinking about her took me out of the pain for a while.  I mean, when I was looking at her, I wasn't looking at the wreckage.  Then she left.  Hmmm, I wonder if there is anything in there about the "Sunday night girl."

Yup! found her but not under "Sunday night girl"  That was what I called her when I was talking with Tara or would go to the SLAA meetings.  "Sunday night girl" was code for Carrie.  Still don't know her last name.  I talked about her in meetings even when Wendy was there.  At the time figured I'd never be in a relationship with her, Wendy that is.

I am going through this blog like a junkyard.  Picking up pieces and looking at them - trying to remember.  The pieces are memories, memories made a bit more clear because the memories are in writing.  So, I hope the metaphor isn't too cryptic.

Back to the Junk Yard.

Just the Facts Mam. . .

The last entry in this blog was April 23 of this year 2015. This is when things started really getting serious regarding Wendy’s illness.   She, I think, had just had her first thoracentesis.  It was before my kids were here.  Looking back at through my pictures it would have had to have been on April 12th.

Let’s see. . .

Her mom’s unveiling was on March 20th

Her mom died April 16th of 2014.

Wendy lived 1 year and 8 months longer than her mother.

Today is December 30, 2015.  Wendy died on December 6th.

I’m just trying to put together a time line here. I am also trying to go through the memories for some reason.  Why am I doing this?  I guess just for something to do?  Don’t know.

The oxygen, came in a couple days later.  It would never leave until December 6th.

I think what I might be trying to do is re-live that time so that I can continue to be with her.  It is a way of not letting go. . . Why the fuck didn’t I take more pictures!?  of her!

On May 7th she had her first Chemo treatment.  Up until this point, she was taking an oral form of Chemo-therapy called Xeloda (Zeloda)  She started this in December of 2014.  By February she was having serious problems with her skin on her hands but primarily on her feet.  She was getting really bad sores on the backs of her ankles (Achilles Tendon)  I am thinking she stopped the Xeloda near the end of February or beginning of March and was off of it for about a month.  She restarted it at a lower dose for two weeks when the oncologist said it was time to start “real” chemo-therapy.  So on May 7th we started abraxane a form of paclitaxel.  Wish I had been taking notes.

On the 10th of May none of the pictures I took indicate oxygen at home.  On the 16th of May, the day of Leo’s and Amanda’s wedding, the oxygen concentrator is shown in the living room.  And I do remember taking the bottles with us to the wedding but we did not take them in.  At least the pictures do not indicate this.

The last entry in this blog was April 23 of this year 2015. This is when things started really getting serious regarding Wendy's illness.   She, I think, had just had her first thoracentesis.  It was before my kids were here.  Looking back at through my pictures it would have had to have been on April 12th.

Let's see. . .

Her mom's unveiling was on March 20th

Her mom died April 16th of 2014.

Wendy lived 1 year and 8 months longer than her mother.

Today is December 30, 2015.  Wendy died on December 6th.

I'm just trying to put together a time line here. I am also trying to go through the memories for some reason.  Why am I doing this?  I guess just for something to do?  Don't know.

The oxygen, came in a couple days later.  It would never leave until December 6th.

I think what I might be trying to do is re-live that time so that I can continue to be with her.  It is a way of not letting go. . . Why the fuck didn't I take more pictures!?  of her!

On May 7th she had her first Chemo treatment.  Up until this point, she was taking an oral form of Chemo-therapy called Xeloda (Zeloda)  She started this in December of 2014.  By February she was having serious problems with her skin on her hands but primarily on her feet.  She was getting really bad sores on the backs of her ankles (Achilles Tendon)  I am thinking she stopped the Xeloda near the end of February or beginning of March and was off of it for about a month.  She restarted it at a lower dose for two weeks when the oncologist said it was time to start "real" chemo-therapy.  So on May 7th we started abraxane a form of paclitaxel.  Wish I had been taking notes.

On the 10th of May none of the pictures I took indicate oxygen at home.  On the 16th of May, the day of Leo's and Amanda's wedding, the oxygen concentrator is shown in the living room.  And I do remember taking the bottles with us to the wedding but we did not take them in.  At least the pictures do not indicate this.

At this point we were still at the local oncology center.

Just Keep Swimming

Pronounced mar-see’-uh.  I seem to be a bit obsessed with her.  She is my acupuncturist.    I have all these fantasies about her – very few of them of a sexual nature.   (This could be love addiction.}   Anyway, the obsession takes away the pain – takes away the void. . .   So I find myself thinking about her.  I think about going to Avila beach with her. This is because she knows that Wendy and I went to Avila beach on our anniversary.

Yes, Wendy I know you know all this already because you are inside my head now.   But you are not here and I really don’t want to deal with that fact.

So anyway, I go to see her and she asks a couple of questions about it like where exactly it is located, how did we like it, and some other questions.  Then she says she looked it up on the internet.  And thought it looked like a really nice place and that she’s like to go there sometime.  This is why Wendy was living.  I immediately think, that’d be great! You and I could go there. Then I think about us on the beach, me just staring out at the ocean, her maybe reading a book.  Idly conversing about the ocean, about life, quiet and gentle – no cares other than what we might have for dinner that evening.

What a distraction. Here is a little victim hood for you, “Why couldn’t I have had this with Wendy?”

I want to have this and I want to have it now!!!  my brain tells me.

“No. no. no. you are not allowed to have this.  This kind of thing is for other people now. Your days of female companionship, idly conversing about this or that, deciding what to have for dinner, and then making love are over.”  What a desolate fucking life. . “Cardboard, extra dry.  is the only thing on the menu.”

I want! I want! I want!. . .

“Well maybe this. . .  How ’bout. we leave out the sex  Okay, how bout we just go to Avila Beach, we get separate rooms, you do your thing, I’ll do mine, we have dinner together maybe lunch, who knows, maybe breakfast as well.   Maybe we go for walks together. . . maybe, maybe, maybe. . .”

Anything just to stay out of the pain a little.

So I’m on the table all loaded up with needles.  She is so wonderfully massaging my back, shoulders, and neck as the electro-stim is going.  And she’s saying:

“Well, I was down at my “friend’s” house in Kachina and we were out on his deck.”

In my head, “his.  his.  his.  Geeze, he has a deck.”

She continues, “Yeah, I like it down there in Kachina,  I just want to be out of the city.  You know all couped up in the neighborhoods and stuff.”

Back in my head, “Yup sounds like this friend has a really nice place. . . .  Hmmm, my place, a couped up neighborhood, no deck, hell, no back yard for that matter. – never-mind.  Hmmm, but she only said “friend” not boy friend, or this guy I’m seeing.  Of course, I am sure next time we talk things will have gotten serious, her “friend” will have asked her to marry him. . . .  Fuck, it’s hopeless.”

Yeah, Wendy,  see this.  What a joke. . . . what a joke. . .

It’s okay, just keep swimming, just keep swimming.