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Oct. 8th, 2020 06:27 amI don't know how to balance the quotidian and the very much not normal of living with someone with stage 4 cancer. In the short run, J's doing better, and in good spirits, but there are tumors in her lung, on some bones, and in her brain now, too. The official prognosis is "months, not years", but we've no idea if that means six months or eighteen, and I don't think the doctors do, either.
I still work every day, take care of the cats and J, try to handle my own stress, read (not too much news, still enough to curse at the Repubs loudly), try to engage with friends (not nearly enough), and now I add the sneaking suspicion that I'm not doing something right, that I could be, or should be, doing something more for or with J.
In the early morning, before light and other bipeds are noticeably awake, there is space to consider this. I don't know what to do with it, but I can consider.
I still work every day, take care of the cats and J, try to handle my own stress, read (not too much news, still enough to curse at the Repubs loudly), try to engage with friends (not nearly enough), and now I add the sneaking suspicion that I'm not doing something right, that I could be, or should be, doing something more for or with J.
In the early morning, before light and other bipeds are noticeably awake, there is space to consider this. I don't know what to do with it, but I can consider.
