Sunday, August 25, 2024
Saturday, July 13, 2024
Saturday, May 18, 2024
Sunday, May 12, 2024
My Brain / In Dreams
The week, by most reports, has been shit.
The wildlife and the wild life. No sleep. That's fucked up. Anxiety ridden days mixed with technicolor hallucinogenic nightmares when I do sleep. Bob is a mess and a full time caregiver situation. Everyday is a new problem. I cannot get him to actively take part in his care in private. He is a 'bad' patient by any metric. I make him set blood glucose alarms. He sets the phone to vibrate and leaves it on the bed. Some nights I find him eating ice cream in the middle of the night with a sky high reading. Some days he's barely responsive his blood sugar is so low-its been 28...borderline diabetic coma. So low I'm having to slap him awake while getting him to drink orange juice. Then I Sit there while he tells his doctor his blood glucose is 'under good control'. Its fucking maddening. I'm working so hard to keep him alive and he's just utterly undermining efforts to take care of him. Half the time I don't know what to expect. I have to remind myself he's got brain damage. There's been radiation. Chemo too. Maybe I just need to let the old Bob go because he isn't here anymore.It feel awful saying it. the constant low grade trauma is like being cut 1000 times. The thought of dying in my sleep has crossed my mind. It's horrible even thinking it. I can't believe I am writing it down. I just wish this wasn't happening. I don't know how to help my brain. I can't hire anyone to do that.
In the middle of the night, I woke up and wrote this:
You can
you still will
Like candles in the wind takes time
Everything you do takes time
The clock is all too familiar, and yet
blue is the color
Blue is the color of my love's heart
Upon heart
upon heart
the rest devolves into a drawing of me and Bob.
Saturday, May 4, 2024
Saturday, April 6, 2024
Friday, March 22, 2024
Everything Is Fine / The House Is On Fire / Unpoetry
"When your turn comes to leave me, will my free-will have failed?"
"We sit here crying, about opposite things in opposite rooms."
IT could have been heralded by a 100,000 trumpets, instead its nattering and annoyance.
(Unpyschosis)
The week is like a slow motion cain crash singing a song, When things got tough I was so kind to myself and we watched the girls go / Look at them go / look anthem girls go / This isn't the same sub pop sticker I sent you in the spring is it?/ I never looked this wrong in a dress before / would look this iceberg blow itself out? / look / look at it / its / dreaming about something to scheme in living in the house where we go home when the go girl go / when you look at her / go now / go now / downtown / go downtown / symbols / esoterica / Erica / from erotica fruit on the bottom ladies downtown freemonetation clown and from down down down down down the downtwqoeses twoesne van bandit van synod snow from one snow drum snowdrop snow drum noe to senowtu ...............................
Thursday, February 22, 2024
Cancer
My husband, Bob, had a seizure on January 26th. Since he had no previous history of seizures, a CT scanned was performed and the initial scan showed an obvious mass--we sat together and watched the hospitalist bring the image up on a monitor. Further MRIs that evening revealed a distinct tumor. This was successfully resected during emergency surgery on Wednesday the 31st. While the surgery was fairly straightforward (as brain surgeries go) the after effects of the surgery were…to put it mildly, not fun. Again, mercifully, they were mostly temporary. He’s still the same sarcastic, slightly ribald guy I fell in love with (and am occasionally embarrassed by in public). He was in and out of the ICU and the Recuperation Unit in a matter of days.
Monday, January 29, 2024
Ghosts Came In The Night
The mask is quiet,
But edges slightly closer.
I lift the black sheet up
To look underneath
And invite the black rover.
We’re tasked with giving up,
When our cup has been enough,
And age or disease takes us over.
And we meet our rub.
I library in haste
A cake seasoned to taste
All men left alone in some kind of zone
Legends fail to atone.
Trying to reason with pain
Is like trying to capture rain
Or pretending to see facts
But feeling instead emotions
You’ll never get it all,
Or feel you did it right
They’ll be no one left to haunt you
When we’re all ghosts in the night.