Wednesday, September 23, 2009

6 months.

Rather than just a depression rumination on how I'm feeling, I thought I'd go for a depressing review of what's happened on each end of the year for the last 24 months.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007: We'd just returned from a beach trip with my dad & Randy. Alastair slept nary a wink, which meant we slept nary a wink, but we got to spend some great time together at the B&B, in the hot tub, on the beach, and playing with our little man.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008: Two days after Easter, and 11 days away from hospitalization. Amanda's skin-tone was non-existent, she was unable to climb stairs without being exhausted, and going through heart tests that were revealing nothing.

Thursday, September 25, 2008: The day of my bad review, and the day before my last full day of work at my old job. Also, the day before we learned that Amanda's chances were next to nil. On the 26th, we had a meeting with MCV's transplant team, where we discovered that her transplant, which had been scheduled to start the following Monday morning, was canceled. We then went to Dominion Shooting Range for a Fuck Leukemia party and enjoyed a great night out with friends.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009: The big day of suck. I awoke excited about the prospect of going to Texas on Friday, and set about getting stuff at work ready for my upcoming absence. About two hours into my day, I got a call from Ed saying that things were pretty bad, and that I might want to consider coming out to Texas that day, if possible. I changed my flight information, told my coworkers for the first time what was going on (I didn't want to come to work every day and spend 30 minutes giving updates on her condition), and headed home to pack a bag. On the way to pick up my mother-in-law, Ed called back and told me to get there as soon as possible, because "she's not gonna make it". I spent the next several hours completely numb, and the rest is well documented.

Friday, September 25, 2009: Here I am, crying at my desk. Somehow I've made this all about me again... Alastair is potty-trained, has really been expressive about missing Amanda recently, but seems to be doing all right. I'm a mess, and my baby's still gone.


Anonymous said...

sigh - what a terrible time for you and your family - just no choice but to keep putting one foot in front of the other and see what you can make out of all the shit youve been handed.

Rebeccah (replica) said...

Aw hell. I'm weeping. Nothing about this list is okay, but if there's anything that needs saying it's this: YOU are here, and Little A is safe and okay.

But I know it's easy for me to sit here and look at what you do have. If there's any comfort in having an audience for your voice, I hope it grants you some small measure of peace. My sympathies, hero.

TK said...

Hell, man. No reason it can't be about you sometimes. Can't say much other than we miss her too and we're with you in spirit if not in person.

And congrats on the potty training,. That's outstanding.

Evelyn Louise said...

Sorry I didn't call or write on Friday. I didn't want to face the realization of what the day meant. However God gave me my due as I was addressing the invitations to Ella's party. I have so much to tell much I want to ask her. Yes, I have other moms to ask, but she was my go-to. I do pray for you boys everyday of my life....not that that is enough.