cancer. it's not just an astrological sign anymore.

~untitled~

after being pulled off of most of his chemotherapy drugs, hubby has ironically gotten sicker. at the beginning of the week, the doctors were congratulating him; patting him on the back and saying that he had turned the corner, the tough part was over, and he would start to feel better soon.

i came back from work last night to find him muddled and bruised, as if he had gone down to the pub, had a few too many and hit on a big guy's girlfriend.

turns out that the reality is far less glamorous: ever since saturday morning, he has had an intense headache that will not quit, and hasn't been keeping down anything other than white bread and water. the bruising was from vomitting so hard that the small blood vessles around his eyes burst; the muddled-ness, a side effect from the compazine and oxycodone he was downing like candy in an attempt to keep the side effects at bay.

we spent an entire beautiful indian summer day in the confines of the apartment. droughts of boredom were interrupted by intermittant puking. he vacillates between sleeping and being sick, and i vacillate between sporadic bursts of housecleaning and sitting on my fat ass, reading. the housecleaning is indicative of a larger syndrome: during the last two months, i have gotten much more domestic than i ever planned to be.

however, the fact remains that i feel like an inadequate partner. no amount of cooking, baking, and cleaning can make his nausea or headache go away. there is no magic recipe to make someone's hair grow back.

i just want to make him feel better.

posted by amanda @ 4:46 PM