Today is our 3rd year anniversary and this is one of the first days since Laura was diagnosed with cancer that we have been apart. I’ve been in the hospital with Laura everyday, mostly 12-14 hours a day, except the last two days. I am at home now with a cold. The doctors don’t want anyone sniffling on the ward because most patients are immune suppressed.
Sometimes when I can’t clean up something painful in my life I clean up at home instead. So I’ve put away all the things that have to do with Laura’s illness and taken out all the things that have to do with our normal life together.
We’re still hoping for a miracle. Two of the doctors have said it is miraculous she is still alive with her very heavy tumor load. Despite her frailty (she has not been strong enough to walk out of her room in over a week), she still catches everyone by surprise. On Thursday the doctors suspected she may have brain tumors as she was having vision problems and a lot of confusion. Impatient for the results of the brain CT scan, Laura hoiked herself out of bed, and with the assistance of a friend and the IV stand (loaded with 5 IVs), she made her way down the corridor to the nurses’ station to get the good news that they found nothing suspicious.
But her energy ebbs a little more each day. Dr Christiane Northrup said that the end of life is like the beginning. And Laura now is like a little child again, she is full of wonder, sweetness, fear and fragility. She sleeps on and off all day and night. Her voice trails off and her mind is full of lapses. When I arrive in in the morning she lies in my lap and I stroke her head and we hold hands like we’ve done ever since the beginning. You don’t often see two middle aged women holding hands walking along the street. But we did. Laura was a little shy at first. She thought we might incite hateful reactions (a gay man was murdered a block from her apartment in Greenwich Village just this year). I was a little shy too, especially in England (old habits die hard). But we soon noticed we were eliciting lots of warm and friendly smiles, so we stopped caring and little by little we grew prouder and louder about our love.