The Good, The Bad, And The Downright Nasty

So today I got to go see Dr. Awesomesauce, who is still awesome even if he does give me crap over that stupid toucan shirt and cuts back his hours in the clinic. Actually, it wasn’t his idea—his superiors thought it would be just a dandy idea for him to stop seeing patients and only supervise the resident doctors ”downstairs”—but he fought to keep at least a few of us and work 16 hours a week in the clinic. Now he’ll only be available on Mondays and Fridays, but the good news is I get to keep him. With the new turmoil going on in my life right now, I need all the help I can get.

Thankfully, I’m still stable moodwise, even though Will and I got some very bad news on Monday when we went to see his oncologist. The tumors on his liver have for some reason decided to start growing again, even though the cancer elsewhere isn’t. Worse, they’ve gotten remarkably bigger and the current therapy isn’t touching them. So it’s looking like more tests, another trip to Portland, and Lord knows what else is in store for my poor husband, who is beginning to lose his happy thoughts even though he still refuses to give up.

This is one of those times when I wish I didn’t know so much. I read the results of his recent CT scan and my blood ran cold. I know what all that medicalese means. I know these new developments make Will’s prognosis look very grim. Sometimes I wish I were completely in the dark about all this stuff so I could pretend everything is OK. But I can’t, and I’m having a hard time not letting him see how scared I am.

Needless to say, all this has the potential to lead to depression, which is why Dr. A doesn’t want to try another step down on the Geodon right now. He also isn’t touching the Zyprexa with a ten-foot pole because it went so badly the last time we tried decreasing it by the tiniest of amounts. That’s reassuring because Z is what keeps me glued together, and heaven knows I need all my marbles to deal with this nasty situation. I’m not depressed, thank God, but this is reminiscent of the time we first learned Will had cancer, and sometimes when I look at him I just want to weep until I throw up.

It’s been two years now since the original diagnosis. That’s two years we didn’t believe we would get, and we did. I wonder if there is enough magic in the medicine the doctors are considering to give us even more time… to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary, to go on our cruise, to love and laugh and live. I guess I’m being selfish to want more, but I can’t help it; all I know is I’ve got to keep my emotions in check because he is still here, still vital, and there’s no need to ruin whatever time is left to us with tears and sadness.

That’s what logic says… but could someone please explain it to my heart?

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

19 thoughts on “The Good, The Bad, And The Downright Nasty

  1. Ugh. I’m so sorry about your hubby’s latest news. And glad you get to keep seeing the same pdoc. My pdoc is also down to 2 days/week and will be gone in a year. So I can empathize and am sending you positive vibes to stay positive and to keep taking good care of yourself. I hope writing your blog helps as much as reading it helps me! (Hugs)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank God you can still see Dr. Awesomesauce. I agree that now is not the time to reduce any medication. My prayers are with you and Will. Portland has top notch medical care since that is where Oregon’s only medical school is. Sending you my love.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh friend..I am so sorry. Tears. I will pray for you too. It puts a lot in perspective for all of us.

    You are NOT selfish at all. You are entitled to want to hang on to your husband.

    Tears and sadness don’t necessarily ruin things when they are justified and pure. They are a way of honoring that which should be honored. The gravity of it all… the real, the beautiful, the true.

    i know you mean you do not want to dwell and miss the time that you have by looking elsewhere than the moment.

    You are such a strong woman. wow.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s what I’m afraid of. I can’t imagine wanting to exist after Will is gone. I’ll have to figure it out, though. I may need some help in the early going (a hospital stay may be necessary) but there are so many other people who’ll need me to help THEM through it. I have to stick around.


  4. Of course you will stick around. No doubt at all. Do NOT change your meds right now. Take it from me. (I ought to know). Hugs to both of you. Am glad Will is getting excellent care.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No worries about the meds. Dr. A said there’s too much going on in my life right now to be messing with them. And I know better than to try it on my own…I got burned the last couple of times I tried it and learned my lesson. 🙂


  5. Now whoin theworld wouldthink iwould improveand being able to stop some meds and decrease others. Been over a month now and even though I am sure one day it might come all rushing back I amkeeping day by day on happy side. I feel it in my heart that you will be able to take your cruise I just feel it. Now will it comingrushing back in 2016 maybe

    Liked by 1 person

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