My only regret is I wish it were pink. Lol. I may tie a scarf around it just to spice things up. Though then the cats may mistake it for a toy.
Going to the hospital this morning was extremely draining. And the doctor was an arrogant fuck face. He tried to tell me all the reasons it wasn’t actually clogged and was clearly user error, up until all of those excuses kind of blew up in his face. Anyway – the short version is that he drained almost 2 liters, and it should be working again.
At some point in the wee morning hours, I realized that I’m very proud of what a fucking warrior I have been; how I’ve fought as hard as I could and gave it everything I’ve got. I can die at peace knowing there was nothing more I could reasonably do. That lifted a big weight from me emotionally. I feel like I can start to let go. It’s time to stop worrying about everyone else and start worrying about myself.
Ironically, I cannot get that “Hold On” song by Wilson Phillips out of my head. The universe has jokes.
Sorry in advance for any typos. It’s getting more difficult to clearly express myself.
I’m really hoping for another two weeks, but I’m scared. It’s getting harder to be present.
I’m so fucking tired.
I wanted to say some goodbyes in person, but they may have to be written instead. And some things I wanted to write may have to go unwritten.
My ascites drain in my peritoneum is clogged, so I’m off to Big Barnes tomorrow to try to get that sorted. It’s getting uncomfortable.
Also – I’m getting really weak, and actually fell this morning, so I think it’s cane time.
My food and fluid intake was better today, and my pain was better managed. I’m hopeful that’s a good sign. Just give me my spring break with my kids. Please, please, please.
I think, however, that I’m finally at peace with the idea that my people know how much I love them. And I definitely feel so very loved. I’ve done what I set out to do. Anything more is just extra.
Thank you for loving me so much and for being so vocal about it. Years ago, in my freshman year of college, I tried to slit my wrists because I felt so alone and unloved. I know now that it was a cry for help, and I’m thankful for my friends who cared enough to step up and answer the call.
I’ll write here as long as I’m able, but know that I love you.
I’m so unbelievably thankful for my husband. I don’t know how I would do this without him. He is alway by my side, never complaining, ready to do whatever I need. Caregivers have a horribly difficult job, and they deserve so much more than they get.
Y’all see the good side. The put together version of Jenn that I allow the world to see. You don’t see the crying, the short temper, the gagging and the puking and the shitting. You don’t hear the moaning. You don’t have to wake up with me in the middle of the night to medicate me because I’m confused and I’m pain. You don’t have to sleep next to the lady who only showers about once per week, and who never wants to have sex because sex causes way too much pain.
David, my sweet babe, thank you so much for everything. For all the times – good and bad. For all the laughs and all the heartbreak. We took what should have been a stupid little fling and turned it into a beautiful life: a family, a home, a community. Thank you for ten of the absolute best years of my life. I hope you will always remember me how I was on my 35th birthday on the beach – or on my 40th stumbling down Duval Street. Remember our kiss on Taylor Ave and the quiet yet passionate romance that followed in our wake, whatever we did. Remember Alabama with the kids, and the bears at the Smokey Mountains. Remember the ridiculous steamy night in Savannah while we hunted for ghosts. So many parties – include our fucking raver in 2015, which is still considered by many to be a fucking legend. That’s the Jenn I want you to remember. The Jenn that Rob had to carry out of the mosh pit after she threw a drink in that dude’s face. Remember her beauty, grace, intelligence, and how formidable she’d get after a couple drinks. Always down to lawyer/argue. Always down to fuck. And always so madly head over heels in love with you.
Grant brought Jackson over on Monday, and came inside (for the first time ever). He sat next to me and we discussed the estate plan and financial planning in place for Jackson. I hope I was able to relieve some of his fears. At the end, he hugged me, and said, “I’ve loved you since I was 18 years old” and we just held each other and cried. It’s was heartbreaking.
Jackson has spent the last few days with Grant, but will be home for the weekend starting tomorrow. I’m hopeful we will have some good moments this weekend. I want to to talk and laugh and cuddle.
My nurse came out today. Her name is Dawn. I’m not sure if I love her yet, but she def seems proficient, which is what matters, and my pain level is her top concern. She comes back out on Thursday.
We tweaked the pain meds a bit and adjusted the hierarchy. I feel like I understand better how I’m supposed to be using the drugs to the best abilities. Now I just have to fight the fucking constipation.
This afternoon, Jen popped by for a quick visit. I can only manage about an hour before I’m done, especially given all the drugs. I need to get a few more people on the list. It’s nice to have these visits to look forward to. it was so good to hug her and to catch up. I gave her my favorite peacock brooch. She feels likes a beautiful peacock to me.
The days all kind of slip one into another. I think it’s Saturday morning. It’s still dark. These are the worst times mentally. Being alone with my thoughts is scary. But my new comfort care package says I have take a lot more anxiety meds much more frequently so I imagine this will help. I just dosed up. I’ve probably taken more pain meds in the last 24 hours than ever before. Not a good sign. Especially since I’m still in pain.
Freya had a concert last night that I wasn’t able to go to. The pain was too much. So D went without me, and my bestie came over to babysit. It was good to see her, though her eyes are so very red from crying. It’s weird to see her like this. I’m not used to it.
I’m going to update for as long as I can. D has instructions to update when I pass.
I’ve been searching for my signature scent for years. I knew it would be a rose based scent, and I’ve tried and loved many over the years, but never found “the one.” Well I think I finally have, now that I’m fucking dying. So you’ve gotta just laugh at how ridiculous that is. Anyway – this is just a drawn out way of saying that I’m currently obsessed with Noteworthy 271. I bought myself a huge bottle that was delivered today. I sprayed myself down and I’m in heaven.
I’m dying but the world keeps going on like normal. It’s fucking nuts.
A nurse and social worker were here for about 2 1/2 hours today getting me all signed up for hospice care. I’m def feeling better now that everything is in place and things are moving. I’m getting meds delivered tonight, and some supplies delivered tomorrow. I should hear from my nurse coordinator early next week to set up a schedule. D feels better about things too, which makes me happy.
I’m def not feeling physically well today, however. I’m looking forward to the morphine being delivered so I can hopefully get my pain under control. The surgery really fucked me up. I hope I can get back to where I was a few days ago – even if just for a short while. I’d like a few good days with the family.