Maxwell, Yeats and I spent last night making a video for Amanda as part of filling her life with The Beatles while she goes through this. I recorded and mixed it last Sunday, early in the morning at my office, because there was no way to get it done at home without giving it away. We hope everyone enjoys it. If you would like to contribute something, just let me know and I will make sure that she gets it.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8I1DY6Iiaic
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Treatment #5 Eve
Tomorrow is treatment number 5 for Amanda, leaving only one to go after this. The week leading up to a treatment has now become one of getting things done. Amanda finds herself rallying after suffering two weeks of hellish discomfort and sickness. Coffee begins to appeal to her again, and she feels well enough to get out and about to some degree. We spent yesterday watching our nephew wrestle at the regional conference, then just goofed around for the rest of the day. We roamed around antique shops and malls and just generally enjoyed wasting time together.
Unfortunately, treatments also bring doctor's appointments which bring results, the anticipation of which brings anxiety. As much as positivity is key, sometimes, just like an alcoholic father, it skips town right when it is most needed. There's not much to do but get distracted as much as possible. This means days like yesterday or Netflix marathons or puzzles or Bananagrams or whatever else we can think of that is not thinking of tomorrow.
An old friend and I talked today. She is a survivor, but she has also been caregiver. She is a fantastic comfort when days like this come along. She reminded me that a lot of what is going on here, I am probably not going to be able to fully understand. I don't know if that's what she meant to remind me of, but I needed to hear it. Being a male of the species, I can't really fathom completely what Amanda is going through. That a part of her body that nourished our son and gave him strength and life, a part that, probably more subconsciously than outright, is part of her identity as female, that part is now causing so much chaos. Does this mean that Yeats or I can't be a good care-giver? Absolutely not. It does mean, however, that I can not get too cocky in the empathy department. I just need to keep doing whatever I can to get her to the next tomorrow with as little anxiety as possible. Sometimes I am not so good at that, so I am thankful for the friends who, as Strother Martin would put it, "get my mind right."
Okay, so, that's all about me, right? This is supposed to be about Amanda. Well, this really is about her and every other strong woman I have met in my life. Since October I have come to realize that Yeats and I have been very lucky to be surrounded by some really amazing women. My grandmother, mother, mother-in-law, sisters-in-law, friends, and, of course, Amanda were and are embodiments of self-sufficiency and empowerment. Because of this, I think, Yeats and I can at least be better care givers... better men, really.
Alright, enough girl power from the dude who legitimately enjoys the movie "Spice World." Good mojo and juju and positivity for tomorrow appreciated! Thanks and love to all of you from us!
Unfortunately, treatments also bring doctor's appointments which bring results, the anticipation of which brings anxiety. As much as positivity is key, sometimes, just like an alcoholic father, it skips town right when it is most needed. There's not much to do but get distracted as much as possible. This means days like yesterday or Netflix marathons or puzzles or Bananagrams or whatever else we can think of that is not thinking of tomorrow.
An old friend and I talked today. She is a survivor, but she has also been caregiver. She is a fantastic comfort when days like this come along. She reminded me that a lot of what is going on here, I am probably not going to be able to fully understand. I don't know if that's what she meant to remind me of, but I needed to hear it. Being a male of the species, I can't really fathom completely what Amanda is going through. That a part of her body that nourished our son and gave him strength and life, a part that, probably more subconsciously than outright, is part of her identity as female, that part is now causing so much chaos. Does this mean that Yeats or I can't be a good care-giver? Absolutely not. It does mean, however, that I can not get too cocky in the empathy department. I just need to keep doing whatever I can to get her to the next tomorrow with as little anxiety as possible. Sometimes I am not so good at that, so I am thankful for the friends who, as Strother Martin would put it, "get my mind right."
Okay, so, that's all about me, right? This is supposed to be about Amanda. Well, this really is about her and every other strong woman I have met in my life. Since October I have come to realize that Yeats and I have been very lucky to be surrounded by some really amazing women. My grandmother, mother, mother-in-law, sisters-in-law, friends, and, of course, Amanda were and are embodiments of self-sufficiency and empowerment. Because of this, I think, Yeats and I can at least be better care givers... better men, really.
Alright, enough girl power from the dude who legitimately enjoys the movie "Spice World." Good mojo and juju and positivity for tomorrow appreciated! Thanks and love to all of you from us!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)