It's been almost a year since Keith's surgery and it seems like a dream rather than reality. Keith has been forced to face unbearable feelings, and has done it with grace and dignity. Fear has been a constant companion -- sometimes a deep fear, at other times an unease that hovers over every daily activity.
The difficulty in getting his stomach to operate correctly has been challenging. It is very difficult to change a lifetime of eating habits. What was once a comforting and enjoyable part of life (enjoying a meal) has now often become a time of discomfort and nervousness.
The recent CT scan has brought back to light the fear that we try to push into the background. Will it come back? That is the question lurking in the darkness.
I say NO. It won't come back. Keith has done this well because there is a purpose to his life and our lives together as a couple. He has much left to do in this world. Soon-to-be-born Emily needs her grandpa to help her grow up. All of the grandchildren and children need Keith to be a part of their lives -- he is the glue that cements the family together. He is the "push over" who always gives in because he loves them.
Cancer will not take the man I love -- he is strong and determined. A Cancervivor if ever there was one.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Back again
It's been a long time since I've written on this blog, but I thought I'd give it a try again.
Keith and I just returned from our Southern California/Vegas vacation. We spent a lot of time with his new family and it was a very worthwhile experience. We visited the beaches, went to family get-togethers, had fun at Universal Studios and Magic Mountain, enjoyed a night at the Magic Castle, walked in the shoes of stars in Hollywood, lost money in Las Vegas, played games at Dave and Buster's, watched surfers from the pier and lots more. Boy, am I tired.
Each day has become a blessing, not that it stops us from arguing about driving too fast, or feeling weary about bills and housework. But, we do share a closer connection this year -- aware of the close call we've had with Keith's cancer. However, there are many times when I yearn for more quiet time -- more peace so that we can reflect on our life together and enjoy our time without feeling so much pressure to do things.
California has its beauty -- the ocean with mountains that drape down to the beaches, the houses balanced along the sides of cliffs, the roses blooming along the roadways. But I missed the green we take for granted here. The desert holds little interest for me -- with the possible exception of when we drove through a dust devil (mini dust tornado), that was pretty cool. There are few trees that have not been planted by someone. The skies are rarely clear as a hazy smog envelopes the valley and the surrounding hills. The ground is dry and brown, dotted with dusty shrubs. The houses spread across the landscape like a virus -- there is seemingly no end until you reach an area such as Death Valley. The traffic is everywhere -- gridlock a daily part of life -- highways that stretch ten or more lanes, and yet it still seems to take forever to get anywhere.
I hope we don't fall into the same pattern here. What a shame that would be. It seems that we are on our way to falling into that same trap here in Central Florida -- with the endless building of condos and houses and timeshares with little regard for how we will impact our quality of life down the line. Life becomes as dry as the landscape when we strip the natural world from our lives.
I'm going to the country for a few weeks in Maryland to visit with my oldest daughter and her family. I think I will take some time while there to walk in the woods, splash in a cold running stream, pick some wildflowers, and enjoy some quiet time with a book. And, of course, play with my wonderful grandchildren. As much as I love a great roller coaster, or a magic act or a casino -- I crave that quiet reflection time.
Keith and I developed some wonderful family relationships in Southern California. Along the way I think we also developed a greater appreciation for our home here -- with it's huge oak trees and crazy vines, with it's summer thunderstorms and warm ocean water. Even I-4 doesn't seem so bad anymore. Hard to believe.
Keith and I just returned from our Southern California/Vegas vacation. We spent a lot of time with his new family and it was a very worthwhile experience. We visited the beaches, went to family get-togethers, had fun at Universal Studios and Magic Mountain, enjoyed a night at the Magic Castle, walked in the shoes of stars in Hollywood, lost money in Las Vegas, played games at Dave and Buster's, watched surfers from the pier and lots more. Boy, am I tired.
Each day has become a blessing, not that it stops us from arguing about driving too fast, or feeling weary about bills and housework. But, we do share a closer connection this year -- aware of the close call we've had with Keith's cancer. However, there are many times when I yearn for more quiet time -- more peace so that we can reflect on our life together and enjoy our time without feeling so much pressure to do things.
California has its beauty -- the ocean with mountains that drape down to the beaches, the houses balanced along the sides of cliffs, the roses blooming along the roadways. But I missed the green we take for granted here. The desert holds little interest for me -- with the possible exception of when we drove through a dust devil (mini dust tornado), that was pretty cool. There are few trees that have not been planted by someone. The skies are rarely clear as a hazy smog envelopes the valley and the surrounding hills. The ground is dry and brown, dotted with dusty shrubs. The houses spread across the landscape like a virus -- there is seemingly no end until you reach an area such as Death Valley. The traffic is everywhere -- gridlock a daily part of life -- highways that stretch ten or more lanes, and yet it still seems to take forever to get anywhere.
I hope we don't fall into the same pattern here. What a shame that would be. It seems that we are on our way to falling into that same trap here in Central Florida -- with the endless building of condos and houses and timeshares with little regard for how we will impact our quality of life down the line. Life becomes as dry as the landscape when we strip the natural world from our lives.
I'm going to the country for a few weeks in Maryland to visit with my oldest daughter and her family. I think I will take some time while there to walk in the woods, splash in a cold running stream, pick some wildflowers, and enjoy some quiet time with a book. And, of course, play with my wonderful grandchildren. As much as I love a great roller coaster, or a magic act or a casino -- I crave that quiet reflection time.
Keith and I developed some wonderful family relationships in Southern California. Along the way I think we also developed a greater appreciation for our home here -- with it's huge oak trees and crazy vines, with it's summer thunderstorms and warm ocean water. Even I-4 doesn't seem so bad anymore. Hard to believe.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Waiting to come home
Today is the day Keith might get to come home from the hospital. He seems to be able to eat without trouble and I bet he's looking forward to something other than hospital food. If I were Keith I would never eat Jello again.
So we wait for the afternoon and I pick out going home clothes and think of how lucky we have been so far that this difficult operation has gone so smoothly.
Today is my Thanksgiving. I send my thanks to Dr. Boyer, Dr. Z., Dr. Diamond, Dr. Grobler and all the wonderful nurses and staff at Florida Hospital and the Cancer Center. Also thanks to Brenda for her outstanding work keeping everything moving along successfully.
God bless you all for your expertise and kindness.
So we wait for the afternoon and I pick out going home clothes and think of how lucky we have been so far that this difficult operation has gone so smoothly.
Today is my Thanksgiving. I send my thanks to Dr. Boyer, Dr. Z., Dr. Diamond, Dr. Grobler and all the wonderful nurses and staff at Florida Hospital and the Cancer Center. Also thanks to Brenda for her outstanding work keeping everything moving along successfully.
God bless you all for your expertise and kindness.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Together, forever
Well, I'm going to try to continue blogging this month even with a cast on my right arm.
Keith is a little bit discouraged by his uncooperative tummy, but hopeful that with Dr. Boyer's return Thursday things will move forward.
Today, we played backgammon and I actually won (that's new) usually I only beat Keith when we play chess. We read the news, talked to the nurses and watched some TV. I even borrowed his hospital bed while he worked on his computer from the easy chair. It was almost like home.
I really miss him around the house but am thankful I have my daughter Kim around for company and help.
One of the hardest things has been the aloneness of this process. We have been together for such a long time that it just seems all wrong to be apart. I miss those quiet moments in the wee hours of the morning, snuggled in with piles of pillows, holding hands under the covers and just talking about everyday things.
Love deepens as the years roll by, it changes from a blaze to a steady fire that warms the heart and soul. It lights our way through times of trouble. My love for Keith has unexpectedly become the kind that really seems to be everlasting. I feel strongly that even death will not part us -- and most certainly, we will not allow the fear of death to do so. We have shared our deepest fears and greatest joys. Our marriage has grown stronger and will continue to do so, because we have learned that love is based on forgiveness and sharing and steady commitment to each other. Cancer is an obstacle to overcome, not a barrier to our love for each other. No matter what the outcome, our love for each other and for our family will endure. Keith will return to us healthy and whole with the help of his doctors and nurses and through his own strength of will. And I will be beside him all the way.
Keith is a little bit discouraged by his uncooperative tummy, but hopeful that with Dr. Boyer's return Thursday things will move forward.
Today, we played backgammon and I actually won (that's new) usually I only beat Keith when we play chess. We read the news, talked to the nurses and watched some TV. I even borrowed his hospital bed while he worked on his computer from the easy chair. It was almost like home.
I really miss him around the house but am thankful I have my daughter Kim around for company and help.
One of the hardest things has been the aloneness of this process. We have been together for such a long time that it just seems all wrong to be apart. I miss those quiet moments in the wee hours of the morning, snuggled in with piles of pillows, holding hands under the covers and just talking about everyday things.
Love deepens as the years roll by, it changes from a blaze to a steady fire that warms the heart and soul. It lights our way through times of trouble. My love for Keith has unexpectedly become the kind that really seems to be everlasting. I feel strongly that even death will not part us -- and most certainly, we will not allow the fear of death to do so. We have shared our deepest fears and greatest joys. Our marriage has grown stronger and will continue to do so, because we have learned that love is based on forgiveness and sharing and steady commitment to each other. Cancer is an obstacle to overcome, not a barrier to our love for each other. No matter what the outcome, our love for each other and for our family will endure. Keith will return to us healthy and whole with the help of his doctors and nurses and through his own strength of will. And I will be beside him all the way.
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