I just recieved 4 hours of sleep, because Marsi needs medicine now every four hours, day and night. I haven't slept more then 12 hours in the past 72, due to the curcumstances of my life right now, but that is OK. I will take the time later to catch up on my sleep, though my family worries. Time to me now is a luxory and Marsi has so needed me to spend it with her these past few days.
I think time is a precious gift for each of us to use as we see fit. It is not infinite for us and it is, by some, expendable, but how should we use our time. I am told that an average adult needs 8 hours a day of sleep to function normally. That is a third of our day and that only leaves 16 hours of time in a day to use and enjoy. So how should we spend our time, when we only have 24 hours in a day, 168 hours in a week, and 672 hours in a month.
Six hundred seventy two hours ago, Marsi was still undergoing chemotherapy and had high hopes that the cancer could be managed and a normal life would still be reached. A new symptom had arrose, where the cancer had spread to her abdominal cavity and draining procedures were started, but overall hope was high and life went on with all the normalcy you muster, living with cancer.
One hundred sixty eight hours ago, Marsi's brother and his family arrived from Portland to spend some time with her. She was so happy, time seemed unlimited, though she was nervous about an upcoming surgery for her catheter and how it would make her feel.
Twenty four hours ago, I remember saying "I love you", as I normally would, everynight, for the past 18 years. I then closed my eyes to sleep, happy to be next to her, knowing she was safe. The last thing I remember was Marsi looking at me with that beautiful smile, the one I had seen so many times before, taking it for granted now as a normal close to my day.
A few hours later, time stopped. It stopped being normal. It stopped being a friend. It stopped being wanted.
For lack of a better word, Marsi is now trapped. Trapped by a body ravaged by cancer and a body too tired to go on. Her mind is still working and screaming to live, but it can't find a way to comunicate anymore. Her body has failed.
Marsi awoke a few hours after going to bed. Eyes wide, mouth open, calling for help. Nothing could come out, nothing was happening, her body no longer cooperating. Pain and malfunction is what has taken over, so Hospice and family are now in charge of her, as well as me. Pain meds are being given to her in liquid form now and Marsi sleeps. Between pain meds, we get an occational word or sentence. Love is exchanged and tears are plenty, but the pain is too intense for her, so these moments are truly seconds as she drifts away, back into the landscape of her dreams. My heart hurts now because I so need to keep her close. To hold her. To watch her breath. To just be with her. But I must be strong, so my heart is broken, because I know it is time for her to go, needing her to suffer no more. Now is the time for her go to heaven and I must find a way to survive.
Marsi has always been the stong one, as her battle with cancer has proven. She would tell you right now not to cry or grieve for her, but to live and hold true to making memories in your life. Love, kiss, laugh and dance. Make moments with each other everyday and enjoy the best of your time.