That's it.
Alena is dying.
Alena, the girl I romanced (or tried to) for the latter part of high school.
Alena, the girl who agreed to be my date to senior prom, and was then elected to the court without me.
Alena, the girl who took me out when the various Ivies started paying attention to me.
Alena, my first kiss.
Alena, the woman I loved earnestly, and cared for so deeply, even into and past my college years.
Alena, through it all, one of my best friends on this planet.
I went back to NE Wisconsin this past weekend to see her, and at my parents' behest, for my birthday. Suffice it to say, I didn't feel much like celebrating. In fact, even less than usual. The time with the parents was ok, but the weekend was really about Alena. Visits with her usually last about fifteen minutes before she gets tired and starts drifting off. Matt, Mel, Matt (Pookey), and I managed to keep her engaged and awake on Saturday for nearly three hours... yes, it took combined effort, but it was entirely worth it.
The leukemia was finally at a point, after three rounds of chemo-therapy, where the doctors could perform the marrow transplant from her sister to save her. Then the Press Syndrome and the Guillain-Barré kicked in, eliminating her chances for survival. It's been amazing to see how many people have been touched by Alena -- they're all coming forward for one reason or another to offer support, kind words, thanks, or adoration. And for once, I haven't stepped back to watch and fascinate myself with the behaviors of everyone around her; my empathy is too jumbled to affect me; and all I can think about is how to make her suffering a little easier to bear. I'll transcribe for you, sometime soon, the poem I wrote her. Apparently, my poetry has finally done some good in someone's life... she kept asking me to read it after the others left, and started drifting off to sleep with a smile on her face. I just thank God I was able to offer her something.
Even though I'm not with her this moment, I feel I can't let myself cry, for her sake.
Alena, the girl I romanced (or tried to) for the latter part of high school.
Alena, the girl who agreed to be my date to senior prom, and was then elected to the court without me.
Alena, the girl who took me out when the various Ivies started paying attention to me.
Alena, my first kiss.
Alena, the woman I loved earnestly, and cared for so deeply, even into and past my college years.
Alena, through it all, one of my best friends on this planet.
I went back to NE Wisconsin this past weekend to see her, and at my parents' behest, for my birthday. Suffice it to say, I didn't feel much like celebrating. In fact, even less than usual. The time with the parents was ok, but the weekend was really about Alena. Visits with her usually last about fifteen minutes before she gets tired and starts drifting off. Matt, Mel, Matt (Pookey), and I managed to keep her engaged and awake on Saturday for nearly three hours... yes, it took combined effort, but it was entirely worth it.
The leukemia was finally at a point, after three rounds of chemo-therapy, where the doctors could perform the marrow transplant from her sister to save her. Then the Press Syndrome and the Guillain-Barré kicked in, eliminating her chances for survival. It's been amazing to see how many people have been touched by Alena -- they're all coming forward for one reason or another to offer support, kind words, thanks, or adoration. And for once, I haven't stepped back to watch and fascinate myself with the behaviors of everyone around her; my empathy is too jumbled to affect me; and all I can think about is how to make her suffering a little easier to bear. I'll transcribe for you, sometime soon, the poem I wrote her. Apparently, my poetry has finally done some good in someone's life... she kept asking me to read it after the others left, and started drifting off to sleep with a smile on her face. I just thank God I was able to offer her something.
Even though I'm not with her this moment, I feel I can't let myself cry, for her sake.