I'm not a girl, don't tell me what to believe. I'm just trying to find the woman in me....
GAHD.
Anyway. Things have been nuts. School. Work. Relationships. Clarice. Everything is in warp speed and all I can do is play "Fish Tycoon."
Turns out that my boyf (not The BedMate) is dying of melanoma . Last week, his doctor gave him 3-4 months. We both knew he was sick, but I never thought it was gonna happen all so quickly. His doctor told him to start researching hospice and getting a home nurse, indicating that he will soon no longer be able to care for himself. He and I have created an interesting relationship over the past 7 months. He's a retired chemist who is a nationally recognized rock gardener and amateur chef. So, our relationship is based on gardening and food - two things I enjoy very much. Plus, he's a total stoner. YAY. He teaches me about baroque, I expose him to soul music. We have a very leisurely relationship and I have grown very very fond of him.
It brings out all kinds of fears and concerns about spending time with someone with a terminal illness and the end is nigh. I have never actually watched someone become progressively ill and die. I am certainly freaked. He still looks healthy, although now I am noticing how his cheek bones protrude more and more and how his pants hang low on his waist. His partner died of liver cancer only 7 years ago. I am tortured by the questions bouncing in my head:
1. Should I talk about my very exciting summer plans? He won't be around for that, I don't want to be insensitive by planning my life without him.
2. I complimented a piece of furniture and then immediately panicked, "OMG. I hope he doesn't think that I am sniffing around his things to take after he dies."
3. He gave me a sac of bud and said, "You should have this." "Why?, I asked. "Because there is no way I can smoke that in 4 months." O.o
4. He's rich. Very rich. I am SO paranoid of being perceived as a gold-digger by his friends and family, 99% of whom are also rich, straight and old. Why else would a young (ish) man hang out with an older man who is dying?
5. What's even more fucked is that am so worried about upsetting him that I have not dealt with my own issues and grieving - a person very close to my heart is going to be gone by Christmas and all I can worry about is "Don't tell any death jokes."
Downersville. Population: Me.
Also. On Tuesday, I fell. DOWN. HARD. ON A HARD STAIRCASE. IT WAS A BRICK STAIR. VERY HARD. Landed on my knee, which is now a nice bruisy-blue-green. I was convinced I needed to be airlifted to the hospital. But it was more pain than actual injury. I couldn't run yesterday, but today should be okay.
I use inhalers now. (But I am afraid to use them in front of my melanoma friend. He has melanoma in his lungs and there I am inhaling albuterol because my allergies are fussy. ASSHOLE BILLY. If only the inhaler was magic and could destroy melanoma...)
And I want to have lunch with The BedMate.
I don't know what to do next.
Anyway. Things have been nuts. School. Work. Relationships. Clarice. Everything is in warp speed and all I can do is play "Fish Tycoon."
Turns out that my boyf (not The BedMate) is dying of melanoma . Last week, his doctor gave him 3-4 months. We both knew he was sick, but I never thought it was gonna happen all so quickly. His doctor told him to start researching hospice and getting a home nurse, indicating that he will soon no longer be able to care for himself. He and I have created an interesting relationship over the past 7 months. He's a retired chemist who is a nationally recognized rock gardener and amateur chef. So, our relationship is based on gardening and food - two things I enjoy very much. Plus, he's a total stoner. YAY. He teaches me about baroque, I expose him to soul music. We have a very leisurely relationship and I have grown very very fond of him.
It brings out all kinds of fears and concerns about spending time with someone with a terminal illness and the end is nigh. I have never actually watched someone become progressively ill and die. I am certainly freaked. He still looks healthy, although now I am noticing how his cheek bones protrude more and more and how his pants hang low on his waist. His partner died of liver cancer only 7 years ago. I am tortured by the questions bouncing in my head:
1. Should I talk about my very exciting summer plans? He won't be around for that, I don't want to be insensitive by planning my life without him.
2. I complimented a piece of furniture and then immediately panicked, "OMG. I hope he doesn't think that I am sniffing around his things to take after he dies."
3. He gave me a sac of bud and said, "You should have this." "Why?, I asked. "Because there is no way I can smoke that in 4 months." O.o
4. He's rich. Very rich. I am SO paranoid of being perceived as a gold-digger by his friends and family, 99% of whom are also rich, straight and old. Why else would a young (ish) man hang out with an older man who is dying?
5. What's even more fucked is that am so worried about upsetting him that I have not dealt with my own issues and grieving - a person very close to my heart is going to be gone by Christmas and all I can worry about is "Don't tell any death jokes."
Downersville. Population: Me.
Also. On Tuesday, I fell. DOWN. HARD. ON A HARD STAIRCASE. IT WAS A BRICK STAIR. VERY HARD. Landed on my knee, which is now a nice bruisy-blue-green. I was convinced I needed to be airlifted to the hospital. But it was more pain than actual injury. I couldn't run yesterday, but today should be okay.
I use inhalers now. (But I am afraid to use them in front of my melanoma friend. He has melanoma in his lungs and there I am inhaling albuterol because my allergies are fussy. ASSHOLE BILLY. If only the inhaler was magic and could destroy melanoma...)
And I want to have lunch with The BedMate.
I don't know what to do next.