The past 24 hours have been, in a simple word, hard.
Wash took some time to really reflect on his life lately and what truly has happened in the last two years.
He has been living in a play world I have helped to create. It's partly my fault for just trying to give him the "best" and "easiest" life; though perhaps not the most honest.
We have issues, and for the most part, I just eat the pain and leave it; he's the one dying, right?
It's not fair. It's not fair to his end of life or my own. Neither one of us is happy.
We talked. For hours. Had a real nice "come to jeebus" type of conversation. Wash was able to really express himself and his fears to me for the first real time in two years. He's scared. He's scared of the pain and dying and scared about a tumor that could leave him paralyzed. He's scared about how much of his life he has already lost and what he cannot even remember of the last two years.
He tends to deflect ; that is not the tumor, just his personality. I hope he did hear me when I had the chance to explain to him just how painful his deflections onto me are.
A big part of the stress comes from his just lack of respect.
He had a chance to really reflect and this is what he came up with;
*He does not remember how sick he was
*He does not remember each day how sick he might be
*He recalls he has memory issues, but not how bad
*He did not want to believe in his brain cancer. He did not like thinking it was true he has a terminal cancer
*If he hold onto those thoughts then he does not have to confront his own mortality
*If he does not have to confront his mortality, then he's not really dying/sick
*If he's not really sick, he does not have to listen to Tashi or his doctors
*If he doesn't have to listen to Tashi or his doctors, he does not have to respect them either
*If he doesn't respect Tashi then he must be ok and not really sick or dying
(His logic progression)
We had a good chance to really explore these thoughts and how harmful to him and me they really were. I did contact Hospice yesterday for some help, along with his social worker.
It's so hard. It's hard to love someone you have to watch die. It's hard to fight for what you know and believe to be their best interest when they (sometimes) cannot even see how much they need. I want our life to be happier, even if on a smaller scale, before he dies. I want a chance to enjoy my husband, not my charge. I want to be a wife, not a caregiver.
I had at most 6 weeks when we got married before the tumor got to him. Not 6 years, or 60. I had 6 weeks. 6 weeks of love then my world turned to a hell for months before his tumor caused a visible and almost deadly grand mal.
Respect is so important to really any relationship, but for our marriage it is essential. I know what brain tumors can do, I know how they can change personalities and bring forth anger. I know that and I understand. However, Wash still insists and I do believe that he has to a degree, control. He makes choices on his own. He decides some days to be mean and disrespectful because he can, because he has no other way to act out, and he feels - or felt, that he HAD to act out. I get upset and hurt emotionally when he does those things out of purposeful disrespect to me. Some times he fucks up. Some times I do. I don't get mad or upset at that, life and crap happens.
There have been a few occasions though over the last few years where he has been fully aware of his decisions and the effects they would have on me and us, and he chose to do the thing that hurt me over being honest.
We're being sued now, and honestly it is both our faults. I did not do my diligence and check to see just what he had done when his tumor was crazy. I accepted his word on some things, accepted that he said "I can and will and have taken care of the issue."
He did not.
And I did not check up on his work.
And now I have a suit in court to deal with.
Wash does not want to go into a Hospice home. He does not want to move out of state and he does not want his parents or a stranger caring/nursing for him. He wants to stay married to me and die in this house that we have made into our home.
I am still willing to fight to make this happen for him.
Death is fucking scary. Dying at 27 years old, even more so. I cannot put myself in that place, much as I try. I cannot take his cancer away, or put it upon myself.
The most right now I can do is not be silent. Is not hide his end of life behind a window of "He's fine". It is to be respectful of his wishes, while making sure to have respect for myself. It is not to lie to him, even if it saves the pain. If we're lucky to even get one more whole year while fighting this cancer, I don't want more time between us wasted on lies.
I can be honest about what it is like to face death. What is is like to watch the brain turn on itself, the painful parts, the wonderful moments worth holding onto, and the nobility of fighting when there is no real chance to survive.
I don't want my love to die. I don't want him to have cancer, or to suffer. It's not about what I want, though, and life will sometimes make you watch the thing you want so very much to avoid.
Right now though, it's not about me. It's about being honest enough to help my husband want to live - as long as he can have.
That's where we ended up at today. The house is still needing cleaning. I have errands to run. I have papers left to write and file for insurance. Sometimes mental issues have to take precedence.
Some days are burdens, some days are gifts. Such is life for everyone. Knowing death is so close though, daily it changes my perspectives.