Sunday, May 31, 2009

no more trips

Burial plot.  Hospice.  Medical bills.  

But also friends visiting, laughing, my going out for errands and stopping at favorite coffee spot where server asks, how's it going, and I tell her, and she starts to cry.

"Cafe au lait," she says, quickly scooping up my mug.

She knows what I drink, and she knows what I want, but for now the drink is the best anyone can do.

We're back from New York.  No more trips, I guess.  The intraarterial chemo procedure was pronounced a "success."  As always, Rich was a good guinea pig, tolerating well the procedure, the 26-hour fast because the procedure was delayed eight hours, the screw-up in pre-procedure tests -- all the while observantly noting the almost-hourly loss of function of his body.

Rich can still shuffle on his left leg, and has use of his left arm.  But gone are the right limbs, and numbness is spreading upward into his torso.

Tomorrow I will call hospice for an assessment.  We will buy burial plots in a local "natural" cemetery.  It doesn't matter, Rich says, but still...it would be nice to be next to one another, in the hills and forests, in walks we can't take today, but who knows...

Candace

5 comments:

Judy Carter said...

Hello, Candace. I started reading your blog a couple of years ago with the self-involved interest of one who has a cervical chordoma and wishes to see what another has tried, is experiencing, has fared. Your spare and descriptive prose has allowed me to share a part of your lives and invested me, and many others certainly, with an appreciation of the ways in which you have chosen to live your lives in the face of uncertainty and with a real concern for you both. I am saddened to read these last postings, as I know are many others.

I wish you and Rich some degree of peace.

Judy Carter

Candace Galik said...

Thank you, Judy. Most of the readers of "chordoma dance" are unknown to me, but the connection is not invisible. I am particularly awed by Rich's fellow Chordomites, whose rare diagnosis seems accompanied by an equally extraordinary measure of compassion, courage, and empathy.

I wish you all the best in living with -- defeating, I hope! -- chordoma, and grateful for your message.

Candace

Anonymous said...

You are in many people's prayers

rjf2@cornell.edu said...

Good morning, Candace,

Would you tell Rich his buddy Rosemary says hello. Also, Deb Hatfield and I would like to come by for visit. She will be in touch with you via e-mail.

Take care and God bless you,
Rosemary French
Physics Department, Clark Hall

Anonymous said...

Candace:
I have come to understand through Ann and Jason's visit that you are in the hospice hospital. Fr. Han has also mentioned a visit. If you are up to it, I can stop by as well.
You have such courage and such love for one another. What a lesson to us this is. Please know you are loved very much. I hope that Rich is kept comfortable in these days and that peace comes in the midst of difficulty.

All my love, Betsy