Pedal Another Mile

Bicycling, death, life after death.

Homecoming and Failure. I'll start with the failure.

Wow what an emotional day.  I want to type something of substance but I am barley able to post this. We're home, th eouo  id in

^^^^ That's what I typed before I passed out from exhaustion.  Passed out so hard that I missed the 9:30 methadone dosage and the 10:30 dilaudid dosage.  That's right - the very first time I needed to give her pain meds after I went to sleep, I slept through the audible alerts, waking up at 11:00.  I cannot believe it.  I had ONE JOB and blew it.  The most important thing is that she is in as little pain as possible, and I was the obstruction in the way of that.

I feel like a complete failure.  I spend my life making sure I do everything to protect her and here I might as well be punching her in the face.  The short trip to the bathroom after I woke her to give her the meds was likely much more painful than it needed to be.  I need to get my shit together... I cannot allow this to happen again.  I'm so sorry, Billy Jo.  I'm 12 hours into being your primary caregiver and already fucking up, and badly.  I talked with a friend and phone calls are going to be made to me from now on to make sure I'm awake to give the pain meds.

As for the homecoming, it was a simultaneously happy and sad experience.  Happy to be home, sad at both the circumstances that bring us there and the fact that an hour or so after that, the Florida family would be returning home.  Hospice was waiting for us as we pulled into the driveway.

While taking a while, the process was fairly straightforward, but we still need to get some legal papers in order tomorrow - basically the Power of Attorney for health-related issues.  I'm not sure she was fully coherent when it was explained, so we will talk about it when the nurse comes tomorrow.

Wrigley came home, was excited to see her mommy, and then excused herself to rid our backyard of all the fucking rabbits that invaded her space over the last two weeks.  When I finally woke up to get Billy Jo her pain meds, Wrigley was curled right up against her.  As I type this, she's staring at me with a concerned look on her face.  She's not dumb, she knows something is wrong.


I am tired, exhausted, sad, and wondering if this cancer will STILL not give her a break after all these years, and make her suffer for an extended period of time.  I wouldn't put it past it.


Thanks again Melisa, Auntie Julie, Anjelika, and Aunt Janice for coming up here.  You will never fully understand how much that helped her during these darkest of times.