Silent night

No changes overnight. A slight fever that went away but nothing else.

I slept about ten hours, only waking up twice while the nurses were doing their thing.

It felt like ten minutes. I woke up, said "fuck- here we go again" to myself and sat up. It is Groundhog Day from hell. Hours seem to take days, Days seem to take weeks.

I talked to Billy Jo for about ten minutes. Told her it's 12/12/12 and dozens of people think she's just the type that would want to go out on such a memorable date. I told her about my Kohls experience and that while it was sad, I got through it. I told her I know there's going to be plenty of more of those experiences coming, and I'll get through them as well. I told her I got my suit. I told her that I am really hurting, and getting worse by the day. I told her that, at the risk of sounding very selfish, I have done something she always wanted me to do - start worrying about myself instead of just her.

Every day this inevitable (although I still have my doubts about that) process drags on, I dig deeper into that valley of despair. This means it may take that much more effort to get out of it. I'm beginning to worry about my ability to do so if the hole keeps getting deeper.

I asked her for help. I asked her to let go. For me.

A friend posted on my Facebook wall an analogy to RAGBRAI, the annual bike ride across Iowa:

You are doing fine. You might not think so but going through what you are going through, I believe you are holding up better than most could only dream of. Hang in there Just like the RAGBRAI. The last days hurt the most. You're almost there. Then we will all be relieved that she is at peace.

I thought about this for some time. I think the analogy is a good one and I appreciate it, but how I feel right now is that I finished it...I got to the end at the Mississippi River. Except now they tell me I need to keep pedaling to Virginia. And when I get there my bike will be put on rollers and I'll have to pedal the entire time on a slow boat to Europe. When I arrive there, it's back on the road.

The last days never come, yet the hurting increases by the day.