So, I’m going to my brother’s house in New Mexico to … I almost typed “to spend hospice with him,” like it was a family holiday.
Earlier today I used the term “to steer his hospice,” which sounds threatening.
His cancer was very fast, and unexpected. A week ago the doctors saw infection on a scan, now they’ve biopsied it and it’s inoperable cancer.
I have to leave Gary behind, because he’s got his own family concerns. This is not the vacation I was looking for. Of course, I am not dead, so I cannot complain.
4 responses to “Hospice”
You can complain. There are many things other than our own death that we can complain about. (if instead you were getting a writer’s retreat in a fancy cabin on some glorious nature preserve with free room and board and a private plane there and back, then maybe you couldn’t complain. This is not that.)
I agree, you can (almost) always complain. In times of grief, I once heard or read it explained as leaning out. You can’t lean in to the people most affected (in this case your brother) to complain, but you can lean out to your support system, and you should. Those people, if they need to, also lean out to people in their support system further removed from the epicenter. Like ripples moving away from a disturbance.
For what it’s worth from a practical internet stranger, I am so sorry that you are having to do this. What an awful awful thing. and I’m sorry that Gary can’t be there to be your support. Ugh.
KC – I actual thought I’d get some writing done. Hahaha.
AH – I like that ripple imagery. Gary has his own very similar crisis. It’s sad I can’t support him.
You’ll probably get writing out of it, just… probably not during this period of time, yes. (that is a really impressive amount of optimism, honestly, thinking you’d get writing done while coping with everything; if anyone says you’re too pessimistic, I think that’s pretty solid evidence you are not…)