LJ Idol Season 6 Week 12 - In Many Dreams I've Held You Near
o/` "They'd never spent a night apart
For 60 yrs she heard him snore
Now they're in a hospital
In separate beds on different floors
"Claire soon lost her memory, forgot the names of family
She never spoke a word again
Then one day they wheeled him in
He held her hand and stroked her hair
In a fragile voice she said
"Where have you been
Ive searched for you forever and a day
Where have you been
I'm just not myself when your away" o/`
-- "Where Have You Been" performed by Kathy Mattea
Author's Note: I am partnered with cheshire23 for this round of therealljidol. Please support her entry as well.
"Yes. I see. All right, thank you for calling."
I put my cell phone back on its charger and stared blankly at the desktop. The words of the receptionist, delivered in oblivious cheerful tones, echoed in my head:
"MRI results show degenerative spine disease with spinal stenosis in L3 and L4 and arthritis."
The one time in my life I'd actually hoped the tests would show nothing and I'd be told to simply exercise more and eat less...and it didn't happen that way at all. Four years ago, one of our pups got loose and I hurtled a ditch chasing him. My back started hurting a few months later and the doctor said I'd sprained it. Three years ago, I began falling down and started using a cane to walk longer distances. Two years ago, the doctor recommended using crutches because my legs would no longer hold me up for longer than a few minutes. One year ago, the doctor ordered a wheelchair.
I guess, somewhere in the back of my head, I always thought I would walk again. That phone call ended those hopes forever. Not only that, but I could expect eventually to lose all control of my lower extremities, bowel, and bladder. I didn't know how to live in that damned chair, could not even do simple, basic things for myself any more...and it was going to get worse. Who on earth would want that? It's certainly not what any of my lovers signed up for!
When you said 'For better or for worse' and 'in sickness and in health' did you mean it? Will you still be there?
I thought about the gun, now conveniently stored beneath the seat of my pick-up because Fox knew I could no longer get down the front stairs and out to the truck by myself without a lot of effort, effort I was generally disinclined to exert because by the time I'd done so all I wanted to do was go back inside the house and sleep. My hands found their way to the wheel rims and I was half way to the front door when Dee blocked my way.
I grabbed the first thing which came to hand --- a deer femur from my catacomb book case --- and threw it at him. He ducked, grinning sardonically, and then furiously lit into me. "What the bloody hell makes you think you have the right to make such a decision without consulting the rest of us? You think you're bloody Death Herself that you can just choose that option for all of us?"
My eyes went wide; I hadn't considered the impact my own suicide would have on my lovers. I'd assumed that Dorie and Fox would find comfort in one another and that Dorie would be able to console her brother somehow. "You'll have each other," I said dully and tried once more to get past him.
Dee locked his hands squarely to either side of the wheels, preventing any further movement. The intensity in his stormy green eyes frightened me. "I'd die without you," he said, his breathing ragged, "and we'd all go insane. You're what holds this clusterfuck together. You kill yourself and you're killing us all."
Damned if he wasn't right. Shit
No one wants to think about the failings of his or her body or mortality but it's probably one of the most important components of sexual ethics. What happens to the relationship, to the sexuality when a partner becomes chronically ill and can no longer care for herself? Are the others in the relationship willing and able to assume other intimate responsibilities beyond those of the bedroom?
I realized I didn't have the answers to any of these questions and I'd been about to make a very permanent decision without consulting Dee, Dorie, or Mr. Shapeshifter. I'd always said that communication was key in making any relationship work, but I hadn't communicated very well in this instance. I'd been too interested in ending the pain.
So I told him --- that this meant never walking again, that eventually I might not even be able to have intimate relationships at all, that he'd be cleaning up after me and helping me with the most basic of things such as showering and getting dressed. I spelled it out in cold, clear, graphic medical detail.
Dee didn't flinch. He didn't let go. Instead, he gathered me into his arms and murmured into my hair. "Silly bitch. I'm not going anywhere. I love you." A sarcastic chuckle escaped. "Hell, woman, I've barfed all over you, bled on you, whined, and made your life a living hell. I'm not going to bail on you just because you won't be losing the chair."
Over the course of the day, I received similar assertions from both Mr. Shapeshifter and from Dorie. It turns out that I'd been the only one in our family who did have the impression that the wheelchair would not be a permanent fixture in my life. I'd been living in a state of denial for over a year now. They were all kind enough to allow me to rant, to rave, to cry, and to grieve...but they wouldn't let me exercise that final option.
Eventually I realized that I didn't have that right. In any relationship, particularly a poly relationship, each partner should have input in life changing decisions. Suicide certainly qualified as that. Taking my own life would forever alter theirs and I could not do that. Instead we talked about alternatives. Each partner had something to add, something which could remedy the situation and improve my life.
Mr. Shapeshifter: assumed his medical power of attorney and will be making appointments with a physical therapist who can teach me how to live a full life in a wheelchair. He will also be making an appointment with a specialist in spinal disease who can help us better explore our treatment options.
Dee: offered to help build the deck and ramp which would allow me to get out of the house. At the very least, I could get outside and sit on the deck instead of having to remain in the house until someone chose to take me somewhere. He's also learning how to touch and massage the muscles in my back to help them relax and has promised to help me get over my fear of water so that I can gain some relief by swimming.
Dorie: came up with suggestions which will enhance our intimacy. It turns out there are all sorts of wedges and cushions which can be used to prop the body in a better position in order to allow better enjoyment of intimate activities. She's willing to show me and demonstrate to our other partners how these will work so that we can all learn how to pleasure and give satisfaction in spite of the new restrictions.
The urge to kill myself gradually eroded under their gentle, unwavering support and melted forever in a wave of honest communication. Now, I think back to what I almost did and what the consequences might have been --- Dee, slowly slipping into insanity; Dorie and Fox each missing a piece of their hearts forever --- and I shudder.
You don't have the right to make that decision.
For 60 yrs she heard him snore
Now they're in a hospital
In separate beds on different floors
"Claire soon lost her memory, forgot the names of family
She never spoke a word again
Then one day they wheeled him in
He held her hand and stroked her hair
In a fragile voice she said
"Where have you been
Ive searched for you forever and a day
Where have you been
I'm just not myself when your away" o/`
-- "Where Have You Been" performed by Kathy Mattea
Author's Note: I am partnered with cheshire23 for this round of therealljidol. Please support her entry as well.
"Yes. I see. All right, thank you for calling."
I put my cell phone back on its charger and stared blankly at the desktop. The words of the receptionist, delivered in oblivious cheerful tones, echoed in my head:
"MRI results show degenerative spine disease with spinal stenosis in L3 and L4 and arthritis."
The one time in my life I'd actually hoped the tests would show nothing and I'd be told to simply exercise more and eat less...and it didn't happen that way at all. Four years ago, one of our pups got loose and I hurtled a ditch chasing him. My back started hurting a few months later and the doctor said I'd sprained it. Three years ago, I began falling down and started using a cane to walk longer distances. Two years ago, the doctor recommended using crutches because my legs would no longer hold me up for longer than a few minutes. One year ago, the doctor ordered a wheelchair.
I guess, somewhere in the back of my head, I always thought I would walk again. That phone call ended those hopes forever. Not only that, but I could expect eventually to lose all control of my lower extremities, bowel, and bladder. I didn't know how to live in that damned chair, could not even do simple, basic things for myself any more...and it was going to get worse. Who on earth would want that? It's certainly not what any of my lovers signed up for!
When you said 'For better or for worse' and 'in sickness and in health' did you mean it? Will you still be there?
I thought about the gun, now conveniently stored beneath the seat of my pick-up because Fox knew I could no longer get down the front stairs and out to the truck by myself without a lot of effort, effort I was generally disinclined to exert because by the time I'd done so all I wanted to do was go back inside the house and sleep. My hands found their way to the wheel rims and I was half way to the front door when Dee blocked my way.
I grabbed the first thing which came to hand --- a deer femur from my catacomb book case --- and threw it at him. He ducked, grinning sardonically, and then furiously lit into me. "What the bloody hell makes you think you have the right to make such a decision without consulting the rest of us? You think you're bloody Death Herself that you can just choose that option for all of us?"
My eyes went wide; I hadn't considered the impact my own suicide would have on my lovers. I'd assumed that Dorie and Fox would find comfort in one another and that Dorie would be able to console her brother somehow. "You'll have each other," I said dully and tried once more to get past him.
Dee locked his hands squarely to either side of the wheels, preventing any further movement. The intensity in his stormy green eyes frightened me. "I'd die without you," he said, his breathing ragged, "and we'd all go insane. You're what holds this clusterfuck together. You kill yourself and you're killing us all."
Damned if he wasn't right. Shit
No one wants to think about the failings of his or her body or mortality but it's probably one of the most important components of sexual ethics. What happens to the relationship, to the sexuality when a partner becomes chronically ill and can no longer care for herself? Are the others in the relationship willing and able to assume other intimate responsibilities beyond those of the bedroom?
I realized I didn't have the answers to any of these questions and I'd been about to make a very permanent decision without consulting Dee, Dorie, or Mr. Shapeshifter. I'd always said that communication was key in making any relationship work, but I hadn't communicated very well in this instance. I'd been too interested in ending the pain.
So I told him --- that this meant never walking again, that eventually I might not even be able to have intimate relationships at all, that he'd be cleaning up after me and helping me with the most basic of things such as showering and getting dressed. I spelled it out in cold, clear, graphic medical detail.
Dee didn't flinch. He didn't let go. Instead, he gathered me into his arms and murmured into my hair. "Silly bitch. I'm not going anywhere. I love you." A sarcastic chuckle escaped. "Hell, woman, I've barfed all over you, bled on you, whined, and made your life a living hell. I'm not going to bail on you just because you won't be losing the chair."
Over the course of the day, I received similar assertions from both Mr. Shapeshifter and from Dorie. It turns out that I'd been the only one in our family who did have the impression that the wheelchair would not be a permanent fixture in my life. I'd been living in a state of denial for over a year now. They were all kind enough to allow me to rant, to rave, to cry, and to grieve...but they wouldn't let me exercise that final option.
Eventually I realized that I didn't have that right. In any relationship, particularly a poly relationship, each partner should have input in life changing decisions. Suicide certainly qualified as that. Taking my own life would forever alter theirs and I could not do that. Instead we talked about alternatives. Each partner had something to add, something which could remedy the situation and improve my life.
Mr. Shapeshifter: assumed his medical power of attorney and will be making appointments with a physical therapist who can teach me how to live a full life in a wheelchair. He will also be making an appointment with a specialist in spinal disease who can help us better explore our treatment options.
Dee: offered to help build the deck and ramp which would allow me to get out of the house. At the very least, I could get outside and sit on the deck instead of having to remain in the house until someone chose to take me somewhere. He's also learning how to touch and massage the muscles in my back to help them relax and has promised to help me get over my fear of water so that I can gain some relief by swimming.
Dorie: came up with suggestions which will enhance our intimacy. It turns out there are all sorts of wedges and cushions which can be used to prop the body in a better position in order to allow better enjoyment of intimate activities. She's willing to show me and demonstrate to our other partners how these will work so that we can all learn how to pleasure and give satisfaction in spite of the new restrictions.
The urge to kill myself gradually eroded under their gentle, unwavering support and melted forever in a wave of honest communication. Now, I think back to what I almost did and what the consequences might have been --- Dee, slowly slipping into insanity; Dorie and Fox each missing a piece of their hearts forever --- and I shudder.
You don't have the right to make that decision.