|
|
 |
When Cancer Wins: A Surviving Spouse's Story Epilogue By mid-December I had endured two months of sleeplessness, still trying to work, and still trying to direct a child who had lost his mother. One night, at work, I finally cracked when I realized I was operating a 175,000 pound crane at work, carrying loads up to 80,000 pounds, traveling over live rail tracks, loading and unloading trucks with people in them, and couldn't remember what I had done for the previous 20 or 30 minutes! I fought through the rest of that night but it scared me, deeply, and I knew I needed some time away. The next night, I went straight to the supervisor and simply said I couldn't do it. They willingly let me go home. I saw my doctor the next day and he pulled me off my job. Beyond what the stress had been doing to my head, it had also begun to affect me physically. Muscles were becoming inflamed, an infection had started in my jaw, I wasn't eating properly, and I was literally a nervous wreck. It was weeks before medication eliminated the obvious physical symptoms and even longer before I began to experience the benefits that the time off work truly provided. I was finally able to sleep during the same hours that Brad was sleeping, tend to the house when he was at school, and be there for him when he was at home. Not that that happened quickly, it didn't. We grew into it. Gradually. Very gradually. When I left work I had been sleeping two hours a day. Slowly that changed to three hours, and with the occasional Lorazepam pill, five or even six. You have no idea what benefit one night's sleep can have when you are in such a state. I refused to take any such pill more than once or twice a week, but it was heaven to truly get some rest. My doctor's first priority was to get me physically stable. I understood that but I also had to worry about Brad. In contact with the school, I requested that he get access to board-sanctioned counseling. It took 3 months before he finally saw a councilor. I don't blame anyone in the board for that delay - it's just an example of how slowly everything moves in today's "cut-back" driven society. In the meantime, Brad and I had a one-time flare-up that resulted in him deciding to leave home. He made the arrangements unknown to me and left with the mother of a friend. It was over in a couple of days and Brad was back, leaving us to rethink our relationship in the wake of what had now become involvement by the Children's Aid Society. Not that we had any abuse issue, but they must investigate any issue that involves a runaway, and Brad had met that criterion when he reported at school from a different bus pickup point. We could have worked it out, and did, but now we had another agency adding stress to the situation. A stress even he didn't want. Now, we're dealing with them too, even though they are basically a watchdog group for us that we don't even need. One stress point to another. And none lead to a clear-cut solution, because there isn't one. Brad was the one to best articulate the situation. He described our family as an Oreo cookie. Mom had been the filling and he and I were the outside wafers. She had been the bond that kept us all together, organized and focused. Without that center, we were just two lost wafers struggling to survive. Once again, a 14-year-old nailing it perfectly with an insight beyond his years. I wish I could say that each passing day got easier but that has not been our experience. We have both been through some of the typical phases of grief - denial, sadness, anger, depression, etc. Sometimes it seems we just cycle from one state to another. Other stresses in life haven't made it easy either. Financial issues, concerns over Brad's schooling, etc. have come into play. I suppose it's easier now than it was six months ago but there are times when it seems that we are right back to square one, although those periods have become less frequent. As I write these last few paragraphs, it has now been 8 months since Jan passed away. Brad and I are still trying to come to grips with our loss. Some days we seem to making progress but there are still times when our emotions overwhelm us. And if Brad and I feel identical or conflicting emotions at the same time then that can strain our relationship with each other. It's also easy to lose sight of the fact that we both lost different things on September 3, 2006, and sometimes we fail to recognize the other one's pain or the other one's needs. I arranged grief counseling for myself through the local county's facilities after Brad's counseling started in March. If you knew me, you'd understand that seeking counseling is something I never thought I'd ever do or need, and that it was a very tough call for me to make. But there comes a time when you simply must admit that you are no stronger than anyone else, and need the support of qualified people. I think we are both making progress but it is, at times, painfully slow. Brad and I are basically at ease with each other now. I'm trying to cut him more slack because of his age and he's trying to reciprocate by being more responsible. We are, I think, slowly becoming more in tune, and less antagonistic. Spring and the nicer weather is a welcome change. Being able to get outdoors opens up opportunities to engage in activities that occupy the mind and work the body. It's also a chance, unlike in winter here, to see that life is all around us. And, like it or not, that we need to participate in it. Trying to forget last summer is neither possible nor even wise. You cannot ignore or hide from such pain. But perhaps we can enter this summer with renewed spirit to forge ahead with our new lives. Never to forget, but to honour what I know were Jan's wishes for us. My heart will never again be whole. But Jan would have settled for nothing less than me putting my entire resolve into carving a new future for Brad and myself. I can't let her down.
|
|
