Under a Cloud

Wahid = ‘’.   Angelique = italics.   Nadalene = bold.   Nathan = “”.

When I got up yesterday I took my pills and was going to crawl back into bed.  My stomach was sore, my brain was sore, and my spirit was broken.

Nathan was going to school (he is student teaching a Grade 5 class).  “What’s wrong Mom?”  I’m worried about myself and I keep looking at those spots.  “Mom, you will drive yourself crazy if you keep doing that.  You can do this Mom.  You have done this before.  Anyway, you don’t even know if that is cancer, it looks like other freckle spots you have.  Bye Mom, I love you.”  Bye, have a good day at school.

I knew where I was headed if I went back to bed.  I have been giving the monster piggy-backs for a little while now and I know that if I listened to his whisperings of going back to bed that he would screw me the minute I laid down.

I don’t want that to happen because who knows how long the screwfest will go on.

Stay awake, stay awake.  I know!  I will do Nadalene’s taxes.  That should be much more pleasurable than being screwed by you-know-who.

Nadalene phones.  Hi Mom, what are you doing?  I’m doing your taxes.  Oh great.  Am I getting anything back?  I don’t know, I just started.  I am feeling sick to my stomach and am trying to take my mind off of myself.  Mom, you will be okay, no matter what.  This is nothing new.  You can do this.

Angelique comes over with Josephine.  Mom, are you okay?  No, not really.  I know I am feeling sorry for myself, but I just hate this.  Well, no kidding.  This is like living with a gun constantly being wagged in your face.  You keep brushing the gun away and it comes right back in your face.  Either shoot me or move the gun.  Exactly Angelique, that is what it feels like.  It feels like the gun, but add Russian Roulette into the mix.  Because you know that if you missed the bullet this time, it will come back to you.  Let’s get out of the house Mom.  Okay.

In the car, I say that I am so sorry that my children have to live like this.  I feel guilty that I have cancer.  They can’t have a good day without me saying something.  I wish Angelique could just be happy with Josephine and be oblivious to all of this.  I am happy with Josephine Mom.  This is reality though, you have cancer and we have to deal with it.  It doesn’t take anything away from my enjoyment of Josephine.  I have to live for today though, I can’t anticipate a day without you here.  I have to stay in today.

I wish I didn’t have to say stuff to you guys though.  I now understand how people with cancer live under a gag order even if the gag order is self-imposed, because you don’t want to keep hurting your family.  Mom, that would be crazy.  We need to know this.  We can share this, why would we ever want you to carry this alone.  This is our life now.

Nadalene phones.  Where did you and Angelique go?  I tell her.  Was it fun?  It was okay.  We talk back and forth.  Are you feeling any better?  A little.  Mom, seriously you need to start drinking.  I laugh.  No, Mom you need a glass of wine in the evening.  Something to take the edge off.  You should start drinking.  Yeah, I would, if I liked the stuff.  I don’t know how you deal with this everyday so intently.  Ha ha ha.

‘Dearest, how are you feeling now?’  I’m okay.  ‘Where is the heavenly father?’  He’s on a smoke break.

With his arms holding on to my neck, a little looser than they were in the morning, I adjust the monster on my back and carry him up to bed.