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The photo is horrible, but despite the fact that it doesn't portray Peggy as the lovely woman that she is, it does speak to the hideousness of what our lives have become.
I want to describe Peggy's condition in some detail because I have unknowingly led various people to think that she is worse off than she is. Here is what I can say about her... She walks slowly; her pain appears to be worsening by the week, if not the day; she complains of feeling cold when other people are hot; and she is becoming progressively weaker and less active. However she can still cook, do light housework, take short walks, and find enjoyment in life. Tomorrow morning, she will attend one of her button club meetings, after which she will go with me to Albany (60 miles up the road) where I am to have a sleep study, and she's to spend the night with a friend. Neither of these things will be easy for her, but at least her friend is someone for whom she feels no need to put on a brave front.
Last week was filled with doctors' appointments and medical procedures. On Monday, I finished up a two day root canal. On Tuesday, a radiation oncologist tattooed her ilium so he can hit within a millimeter of his target when he begins external beam radiation therapy on June 25, her 74th birthday. On Wednesday, she was lying in an operating room when her nurse's knowledge of medical terminology enabled her to realize that her surgical oncologist was about to biopsy the wrong part of her ilium (the crest instead of the acetabulum). On Thursday, a second surgical oncologist installed a port-a-cath in her chest. All of her procedures required a five hour stay in a hospital or clinic, and some of them required that we get out of bed five hours before our regular time.
Within weeks, Peggy has gone from someone who would refuse to admit to pain even when she was obviously suffering, to someone who, when asked by a nurse on Thursday, to place her pain level on a scale of one to ten, labeled it an eight. It scares me greatly to know that she has far worse pain ahead of her, although, be that said, Vicodin is the strongest pain reliever that she has, and she only takes it at bedtime--she takes acetaminophen throughout the day). No doubt she could get stronger drugs if she wanted, but she can't admit to needing them.
Yesterday, (Sunday the 22nd) her regular oncologist called to say that the results from Wednesday's biopsy showed that the lesion on her ilium did indeed come from her pancreas, instead of being primary bone cancer or a benign tumor. This means that her cancer remains a stage four pancreatic adenocarcinoma for which a pancreatectomy (pancreas removal) is pointless. Over the seven weeks since we saw the words "possible metastasis" on an x-ray, Peggy and I have grabbed onto one hope after another only to see them all shot down. As of today, our hope is that chemotherapy will succeed so spectacularly that a pancreatectomy will once again be an option. I have no idea if this ever really happens, but when the oncologist seemed to hint that it does, we clung to his words. One good thing I can say about our experiences so far is that her five doctors have shown us every consideration.
Peggy is back in contact with her older sister, Dianne, with whom she ended contact when Dianne shat on me after I suggested that she, her husband, and Peggy's younger sister, Pam (all of whom are right-wing evangelicals), and I form a support group for the benefit of all. My request for help struck both sisters as unmanly, with the younger one telling me to "get over yourself," and Dianne calling me weak; accusing me of wanting to start a "pity party;" saying I lied when I wondered whether my emotional pain was as greater or greater as Peggy's emotional pain; and, to top it all off, blocking me from calling her (which I had never done), and telling Peggy that she never wanted to hear from me again.
Peggy was furious at both sisters for the way they treated me, but Pam is out of touch because she went on an extended vacation to Europe immediately after attacking me. It's a different matter with Dianne, however, and Peggy responded by ending contact with her. After a week of this, she called Dianne to tell her how mad she was over Dianne's treatment of me, Dianne said that I alone was to blame and hung-up on her. After that, I was floored to realize that their harmonious correspondenc had resumed without another word being said about Dianne's behavior. It was as though Peggy had told her, "Shit on my husband all you want, Dianne, and while I don't like it, I won't let it affect our relationship."
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| Before the Nightmare |
When two longtime friends visited us yesterday, Peggy explained the situation by saying that both Diane and I had acted badly, and that the situation is irremediable. I sat stunned because a week earlier Peggy had admitted that I had acted in good faith, and that Dianne had not. Truly, I tried my best to handle the situation well: I did everything I could to make my relationship with Dianne work: and I am still open to doing everything I can to make my relationship with Dianne work. After lying awake last night trying to understand her reversal of opinion, I remembered her words, "My world is falling apart, and to survive what I am going through, I need my relationship with my sisters to be normal." I can but take this to mean that Peggy needs to pretend that Dianne is not the mean-spirited, dishonorable woman that she believed her to be a week ago.
Peggy also explained her recent embrace of Dianne in this way, "I love Dianne, but I love you too," as though Dianne and I hold an equal place in her affection, despite the fact that I'm the one who will be caring for her and suffering alongside her for however long she lives while Dianne's life can proceed as usual 3,000 miles away, where she can be certain of her sister's acceptance no matter how badly she has treated me. I find humor in the fact that this woman who accuses me of being weak is note-worthy for her fear and timidity, but then in her right-wing evangelical world, women are allowed to be weak. In her case, this means that her unwillingness to get on an airplane will probably prevent her from seeing her sister again.
It's hard to survive what we're going through without also feeling that Dianne is standing between us, and that she won't move an inch to remedy the harm that she is doing to the sister she claims to love. Until two days ago, Peggy had a figurine of two sisters who were sitting on a bench with their bodies touching. That figurine was atop a low bookcase that stands between her room and mine, and every time I would pass it on my way to the bathroom at night, I would reflect upon the fact that Dianne is not only between us all day, she is symbolically between us all night too. Four days ago, I moved that figurine, and while this hurt Peggy very much, she didn't put it back. Yet, in her heart, I' sure it's still there.
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| Breakfast on June 2 |
