As the days of March tick off the calender, I find myself falling farther down the rabbit hole of my own depravity. I am reliving the days past with sadness and regret, fear and anxiety and a longing for my son that will not cease. This picture only begins to touch on the reality that Nick was living as he remained in the hospital, now only day #17 of 58! Still very ill, fighting off leukemia cells in his brain and spinal fluid, fighting off infection with counts that had plummeted way too low and fighting the side effects of his radiation treatments, just to name of few!
On March 25th of last year, Nick was getting his seventh of thirteen radiation treatments. Radiation to this area is already difficult enough, but, Nick had to also deal with the additional burden of his failing lungs. I don't know how he did it, but, he did! Nick was so brave and such a trooper when it came to these barbaric methods of ridding the body of cancer. On top of everything else, the radiation was rough. On this particular day, the infamous "look" was in evidence and yet, people would still try to tell me he looked "good." You will notice the oxygen mask hanging from his neck. I can't remember why he had it off. He might have pulled it down because I was taking a picture. Last year, as Nick was going through all this, I never posted the "real" pictures that I had taken. I know Nick read my blog sometimes and I didn't think he would want me to put them up. Now I have no such worries or constraints. So harsh reality it will be. These are the images I cannot get out of my head. These are the thoughts that make me cry every day for one reason or another.
Today I decided to make one more attempt to do something with all the insulin Nick had not used. We had just had a new prescription filled, brought the stuff home, and NEVER used it! Never opened it! Nick went into the hospital the very next day! I called the Hopkins pharmacy to see if they could at least take the small individual needles back. They said they cannot. I understand this, but, it just kills me to throw all this stuff away. So I took out all ten of the insulin syringes and squirted out all the insulin. I thought about the waste of good medicine and the expense and then I thought about my poor boy and I just cried some more. The pain is raw and there is no medicine to fix this broken heart. The pain of missing my boy just grabs hold and pulls me down. I am powerless to keep it at bay and it saps me of all my strength.
Bystander
Battered and bruised you trudged through each day.
Sticking yourself with needles in the name of healing.
Having others stick needles into you and take your
precious life's blood from your body.
Tired and battle-weary, you fought on with endless courage.
You trusted them to heal you, to take care of you.
You let them irradiate your brain,
thinking you would be cured of this disease.
Poisons were poured into your system.
We prayed for the toxic concoction to find the right enemy;
instead, this dreaded chemical cocktail turned on you and ate you alive.
Every assault was borne with quiet dignity and reserve.
Your beautiful soul was the only thing they couldn't butcher
with their instruments of destruction and death.
I love you my sweet son. I have not yet learned how to live without your physical presence in my life. I still do not understand why this had to happen. I am lost without you in my life. Please come home Nick, our hearts are breaking every day. I love you always and forever, Mom
6 comments:
Dearest Diane,
I still believe after you get through this first horrible year, it will get better. I knew you were going to relive everything that was happening last year this time. It will still be painful and raw, but I am praying that a little bit of the jagged edge will become smoother.
Diane, you are still so brave. To share with us what was happening then and now takes a hell of alot of courage. My dad will be gone in July 2 years, and I still can not go back and look at pictures. You are brave to open your heart up to us who read your blog. I always knew you were strong, but I did not know how strong. Diane you were there through it all. It was never about you, it was all Nick, so please understand you are okay and need this time to mourn. You need to get it out, so it is okay to do that. Not a day goes by that I am not thinking of you and hoping that the day was a little less painful then the day before. As August 13th approaches the journey will get harder. I hate to have to say that but from my experience with my dad it is true. Because you know it doesn't have a happy ending. But Diane, I swear I felt a little better after that year anniversary. I went to dad's gravesite and was there at the time he died. I cried and cried, but walking back to the car I felt a little relief. I am so praying that happens for you.
Diane, I hate to say this and even though you can see Nick was sick, for all that he had been through to that point he looks better then I though he would. But then again he was a warrior. He was a brave young man who fought a hell of a battle with you right there with him. Diane you and Nick are a testament to the power of love between a son and his mom. I embrace my son more, tell him I love him more (which I already did alot anyway) and look at him through different eyes, because you taught me how precious that love and bond is. So Diane thank you, through all your pain, you have taught me so much.
Please remember the next few months are going to be tough ( I wish I could sugar coat this but I would be lying) and if I can help you,(since I was not there last year this time), it would be an honor.
Remember Nick wants you to be happy, so it is okay to try to be happy.
Love,
Mary E
Dear Diane -
Your words rip me apart every time I read them. I am wishing that some of this pain will leave you soon. I want you to know I think about you often; as do many others, I imagine. You are so brave to post your most intimate feelings about Nick - Please take care of yourself.
Love,
Catherine.
Aunt Diane,
thank you for sharing your feelings with us. We are all missing Nick in our own ways and while they're all so different, yet in a way, they are the same. I read your words and being a mom, I cry for your loss. I wish there were something - ANYTHING - I could do to make it go away and you know I would in a second. My love to you and as always, don't hesitate to call us if you need anything - we're here for you. love you. Ginni
Diane,
Still reading, still praying that you find solace in Nick's memory. Never finding the right words to say, knowing that the wrong words cause you pain, we struggle to speak. But know that we are here, strangers and friends alike, loving you and wishing you brighter days.
joyce
In a local publication today I saw a plea for help from a local family. The husband and father of two very young children was diagnosed with t-cell lymphoma last June. Three rounds of chemo and a bone transplant later he was in remission. Just as he was ready to return to work at the VA he was told the cancer is back. His remission lasted three months. It looks like he's going to have another BMT (the plea is for donated leave from federal employees).
My thoughts went immediately to you and Nick. Ryan's been told that the outlook for him is not good but still he persists, seeming to will himself to good health. Like Nick did.
And then I think, how will this young woman deal with all this again? how will their children, the youngest probably only knowing "sick" Daddy, cope? His doctors as much as said it is hopeless. His wife, however, holds out for a miracle.
I'm in awe of all of you.
The picture just breaks my heart, everything that he had to go through, yet I can see his spirit in his eyes even though he doesn't feel well.
Please keep writing and sharing all that you need to share.
Sending you support.
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