ALL THE TOMORROWS


So now it begins.  The ride to the end of the line.  The ride I never wanted to be on, the one I thought I would get off before it reached the bottom.

Afraid not.  No one escapes this.  I just can't decide whether it's better to know that you're on this train or if it hits you  suddenly  without realizing you're on your way.

There are some pros in knowing. You have time to get your stuff in order, let people know your last wishes.  You have a say in how you want things done.  On the other hand, you have lots of time to think about the last days and what kind of struggles you'll go through to get to the other side.  And the other problem is all the sympathetic looks, the awkward silences because people don't know what to say or do and they all want to say or do something but you really don't want anything except to just go in peace.

But...in the meantime, you try to maintain some semblance of normalcy, which is really hard because you feel anything but normal.  Eating is a challenge and a bore.  You sure don't want to cook anything and even if you do, once you get it together, you don't feel like eating it.  The pain pills dull the pain in one area but cause major havoc in others (I won't go into detail).  The mere mention of Hospice sends you into a major depression.

Hospice is a wonderful organization.  I know from personal experience.  My husband had Hospice and one of my best friends was a Hospice nurse.  I really don't know how those people do it.  I think they must be angels.  Hospice is one of the organizations to which I donate regularly. It's just that when someone suggests Hospice it hits you.  Oh wow, this must be the beginning of the end.  The finale.  TA DA!  Now I know this isn't always the case.  Some people go on for months under Hospice care and in-home visits.  But it still has that stigma attached to it.  Yesterday I went to the pulmonary doctor for an unscheduled visit because of lack of appetite, increase in pain, etc and the P.A. suggested they could call Hospice.  "They can help you, there's no need for you to suffer."  Oh, but the pain isn't that bad and I'll eat when I want to, I say to myself.  That's called denial.

So bottom line is Hospice is coming for an in-home, get acquainted visit.  I am going to try real hard to be as together as possible and not fall apart during the visit (which is one of my greatest fears - falling apart).

I wish I had the gumption to gather all the stuff I've written into some kind of order so that maybe someday it could be compiled into a series of essays that perhaps could be read and edited.  Maybe tomorrow.

And maybe tomorrow I'll clean out the desk I'm giving to my sister and pack up the books I'm giving to the library.  And maybe tomorrow I'll finish cleaning out all the folders I have in my computer desk and decide what files I can delete so no one reads them after I'm gone.

I wonder how many more tomorrows I'll have.  Soon there will be no more tomorrows, so I guess I'd better rally all my forces and get busy today.  Before this train leaves the staation for the last time....but not tomorrow.

NOTE:  Please remember when reading this that I really enjoy writing all this down on paper.  I am more okay with this process than it may appear.  Yes I get scared.  Yes I get depressed, but most of all I appreciate all my todays, and all my yesterdays.  And I appreciate my family and all the wonderful friends I've made along the way and I treasure all the love and laughter we've had together and will continue to have - tomorrow.