Anticipatory Grief

It has been an extraordinary long time since I have posted last. There are a multitude of excuses that I could use for that neglect:

Avi relapsed, we got married, bone marrow transplant number two, recovery and now finally relapse number two. We found out six weeks ago.

In order to make this long story very short and avoid telling the long version yet again, Avi will not be doing any further treatment for his cancer. (Yes, it breaks my heart every time I say it or write it.) The doctor has told us he doesn't want to risk a third bone marrow transplant, and Avi feels the optional life extension treatment would really be a death sentence for him. (Who can blame him after two years of Chemo, radiation, two BMTs, a 60lb weight loss, and constantly being sick.) I don't feel guilty in saying I wish his choice was different but I understand it and I am honoring it. They can't tell us how long we have, they just don't know. We are playing a very awful waiting game.

My excuses being made, I turn again to writing with no other intention than to clear my head on a daily basis and share what is going on. Maybe this will help me in the long run, maybe this will help someone else who is searching for understanding or the peace of mind that come when you find out someone else is going through the same thing.

So, we celebrated Thanksgiving this last weekend. It was nice if not anti-climactic, all this build-up for a couple hours of eating and hanging out with the family and then silence. It wasn't that the holiday was hard or sad, it was the quiet afterward, when our brains went into overdrive and the crying started...and then stayed for two days like an unwanted guest. To give you an indication of how bad it got; at one point we were in our office and I was crying, asking how I was supposed to cope with the loss of my husband when I was losing my best friend too. He was crying about how this wasn't supposed to happen and how he wanted the chance to be a father, how he didn't want to leave me, and all the things he still hadn't done. His fear of dying, my fear of living. Yep, 48 hours of the most horrible thought processes EVER! 

Plus, I was surrounded by food, which for me was like being an alcoholic and having this emotional break in a bar. I feel guilt for grieving when he's sitting right next to me. Not to mention, my many unspoken thoughts of how to move on once he's gone. I have to think about how I will afford to keep the house, what to do about my job, and how I will move on without him in order to rebuild a new life. I'm a planner, I always have been. It is much easier for me to live in the present if I have a plan for the future. This cancer has stripped our ability to plan any future, I have the awful reality of planning a will and a funeral. This has sent me into a world that feels really chaotic.
 
Last night I finally broke down and took an anti-anxiety pill, which helped clear my head, while keeping me out of the kitchen and away from the food. I got on the internet, with the intent of looking for holiday gifts, which then turned into looking at cancer caregiver sites, where finally I found and article on cancercare.org about Anticipatory Grief. It was like a three paragraphs of telling me that it was totally normal that we were having all of these feelings. Unfortunately, the article also went on to say it would continue to be a very roller-coaster ride until the end. It does make me feel better to know that we will level out again. Until then, I'm going to cry when I need to cry, comfort when I need to comfort, and remember to breath.
One day at a time.