As I left off in my last post, Lily came out of the loft bedroom. She filled her water jug/cup she kept from the hospital and simply told me she was moving to the downstairs bedroom. I asked "How are feeling, honey?", and she said "Pain".
But then she said something nasty, to me. Her mom and I have been sharing the same experience. Ask a simple question and the get a biting accusation. It throws me so much, all I can do is remain silent. I feel she wants to pick a fight. Lily's mom handles it making it her cue to go home. Unfortunately, I can't. Inevitably, Lily apologized from the bedroom with her very weak voice. I said not to worry as I know the pain is driving her attitude (at least I hope). I told her I would come in the bedroom later (it was 6:30pm). Lily didn't say anything in response but about 1/2 hour later she announced that she was going back upstairs to our other bedroom, again.
She slept there the whole night. So, I saw Lily for about 5 minutes last night. I woke up at 4:00 am alone and I'm wondering if I should be sad or glad?
Is she preparing me for the inevitable? I think she is.
Chronic pain will drive unusual reactions, especially when coupled with facing your own mortality. That was my experience anyway. It's also a non-stop reminder that you're dying. You get no respite from the mental flogging it does to you. I'm sure I'm not saying anything you don't know, maybe just affirming it. I know i said some unkind things to my wife when I was stage 4 and for me it was because I just wanted to be normal again, I was frustrated, in pain, and at the time not expected to live. It's a weird mindset...I was doing things like thinking about the fact that my dogs were going to outlive me, that my grandkids wouldn't remember anything about me, that in a couple years I would only be an occasional memory to the people I knew...and at the heart of it what I wanted was the assurance that I still mattered, that I was relevant, and that somehow I wouldn't cease to exist. But as time went on I started more closely associating myself with people I knew that had already died, like my dad, my sister, and my grandparents. I started feeling like I had more in common with them than I did with the people who were around me and were still alive. It's just a shitty hand to be dealt. There's nothing positive about it, and especially if you have chronic pain.
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