Like really dying.
I know we’ve known that all along really. I mean, terminal cancer kills. Hence the terminal part. But that doesn’t make it suck any fucking less.
I came to see her yesterday, changed my flight first thing in the morning from next week to yesterday. Changed the day first, then changed the destination airport so I could meet up with RM and carpool. So we are both here. The two book ends in the musketeer trio.
If you’ve ever watched someone die, you know that it’s a life-changing process. No pun intended. It’s slow and awful. Sometimes painful. Death starts at the feet and works it way up your body. Once it hits the lungs you get the ‘death moan’ and it’s really only a matter of time after that.
In BFF’s case, it’s at her liver. I don’t think her feet are blue yet, which is a really bad sign, but her skin is losing elasticity, and she’s not as cognizant as she was. When she’s her, she’s all her and it’s fantastic. But when she’s not, it’s heartbreaking.
This morning she could not figure out what the laundry basket was. So we were explaining it to her and that the clothes inside are dirty. But she still didn’t get it. At the same time she said, ‘maybe I would understand it better if BW didn’t have his dirty clothes all over.’ Which, believe it or not, is a good sign because at least she made the connection with the basket and dirty clothes. But, BW isn’t here and neither are his dirty clothes. So, that part was the bad sign.
Her liver numbers are still way too high to be good for anything other than shutting down. She’s at 1221, normal is 50. And her platelets are too low. And I don’t understand how that all really works together, but apparently it’s not good.
THE NEXT DAY
She’s goes back and forth between acceptance and denial. Totally normal I suppose. Hubby is in straight up denial. People have been coming to say goodbye. Sometimes she realizes that’s happening and sometimes she doesn’t.
Her mom, oddly, has completely accepted it and she is the one that I really thought we would have a hard time with.
R is here helping as well. And R is the only person that Hubby trusts, and really even likes right about now.
You see, BFF and I have our own way of communicating, we always have. Not like it’s in code or anything, but that we have always been extremely straight forward and honest with one another. Extremely so. And I don’t think he likes or appreciates when I try to be that way with her now about the fact that she is dying.
Plus, Hubby just has a connection with R that he and I don’t have. He always calls R if something is going on. R is the one who told me BFF was dying. Hubby didn’t call me. I was like 10th on his list of people to contact. R is the one he confides in. R is the one he will ask to do something for BFF even if she is in another room and I am right next to BFF. The blatant favoritism is astounding. And of course I’m jealous. Why wouldn’t I be. Doesn’t everyone want to be the one who is needed?
At the same time, this whole process is exhausting. Dying is exhausting. Watching her say goodbye to people is exhausting. On some level I just want it to be over with. At the same time, I don’t ever want her to die at all.
The conundrum that is life, right?