ARCHIVES - 1996 to FOREVER

Reta stayed around until about 10:30, then she went home and rested for a while, and she came back about 16:00... she's a superwoman, in more ways than one.

When I was being thankful for people yesterday, somehow I left out the staff here at Hospice House... without exception, competent, wonderful people.

Karen had a fairly steady stream of visitors today... Kim and Lacee were here, and my old friend Ginny and her hubby Bob were here for quite a while, too.... it's always good to see them.

20:34...
Karen was doing well today... as well as could be expected. Her physical strength and coordination are still good, but she is sleeping more and more every day, it seems. And getting worn out quicker.

Her mind, though, is still good... but she is seeing things again, mostly as she is going to sleep or waking up. Today it was a man with a dog.

Jan and I were talking with her nurse, and she said that yes, that is quite common... people often see things in the latter stages of dying, and maybe they're real, we just can't see them ourselves. I said that yes, our worlds are based on our perceptions, and she indicated that she believes in spirits... I knew that the conversation was over, as least my side of it, heh.

But she did say that, at this stage, that's it's best to assure the patient that they're not going crazy, and I have to concur with that. If Karen wants to believe that she is going to a place where she can watch all of us and still be a part of our lives, that is just fine with me.

I left at 19:00 and came home... Rhonda came over to borrow some cookware and I talked with her a bit... all of Karen's kids will be visiting her tomorrow, but not all at the same time.

I went out to Gage park today to smoke my first cigar after noon, and the place where I usually go was inundated with kids... some of them fishing, but most of them running amuck and throwing rocks into the water or at the ducks. I yelled at one of them, who was throwing at the ducks with improving accuracy.

The kid was about five, with no parents around, and he glared at me and went over to the other side of the lake and started throwing rock at the ducks again. I was pissed, but my anger didn't give me enough energy to go talk to him.

Energy: I don't have any, and Karen doesn't have any. Mine will return, and Karen's' won't, dammit.

I feel like a zombie most days.

The nurse also told us that Karen will be sleeping more and more as the process progresses.

It's sheer hell watching that process... and having the ability to do absolutely nothing.

And I can't think of anything that I haven't already said.

Fuck cancer. Just fuck it.