Warrior Woman

Well, where to begin. I have no clue where to start or what to say. It has been so insane here on so many levels and the insanity seems to have no end in sight. Our world has been shattered and I don’t know if I or anyone for that matter has the power to put it back together again. David survived the surgery and we’ve beaten down the Cancer once again. But at what cost?

David is at home and doing outpatient rehabilitation including: Physical, Speech and Occupational Therapy. Each day his strength seems to be increasing…albeit minutely. But over the weeks it becomes more substantially noticeable. He is able to walk across rooms with the assistance of a cane…and sometimes when he forgets his cane…he’s still able to do it quite aptly. He still needs 24-hour supervision and there are still many things he needs help with. He’s no longer delusional and seeing elements of our home that are not in existence…but he still tends to get confused sometimes. His short term memory is wonky at best and he has trouble focusing and processing simple tasks like using the Itunes or TV remote control. In his moments of clarity…it frustrates him. I can’t imagine the frustration he must feel at times, when he in unable to complete tasks that were once so simple. But more often he’s unaware of his inability to complete the tasks and feels he has no deficits mentally and few physically. Many of these symptoms are common with right-brain surgeries and clinically from what his body has endured are not that extreme.

For me on the other hand, they’re down right disheartening. David has become more distant and lacks a connectedness to either Alec or I. He sees us, and knows who we are but there’s a distance there. It is hard to explain. David was always such a passionate and romantic man. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him. He was always so tender and would reach out to touch my hand or kiss me. But now. But now, he tends to talk to me only about the next meal or what he may need. But not much more. He rarely reaches out to touch me or even smile. This too is not uncommon in right-brained surgeries. They tend to get extremely emotional or very distant. Obveoulsy David's brain went the disconnected route. And although I know this isn't "David"...it's the damn surgery, It’s breaking my heart nonetheless. Because I love him so much. He’s my soulmate and my lover. And these treatments are slowly breaking him down. Tearing away at him slowly…a piece at a time. Some nights, I watch him sleeping beside me. And I just cry. I cry for David. I cry for what we’ve lost. I cry for our future. And I cry for Alec.

I’ve been doing a lot of that lately it seems. Crying. I saw a quote the other day, “I may cry easily but I never give up.” It struck a cord with me. Because even amidst all this heartbreak…I know I will never give up. I may not know how I’m going to survive this…let alone get through the next 24 hours. But I will.

My dad the other day called me a warrior woman. He said something to the effect that I amazed him and that I truly was a warrior. I just laughed. David before the last surgery always used to say that as well. I used to tell David how amazing and strong he was, and he would say it was because of me. And that I gave him strength and that I was his warrior woman. Sometimes I thought it was so absurd. Me? The emotional Gemini? Are you kidding me? But over time…he helped me see the real me. The strength that lain within me. And through this whole nightmarish experience it is the one good thing that has come of it. I’ve learned that I’m stronger that I ever thought possible. I’ve learned that you have a choice of whether or not you will let events break you. And I’ve learned that I am one hell of a fighter. So, thank you David. Thank you for all your love, support and wisdom. Although I can’t talk to you right now. I have your words and your inspiration. Because you my love, are my warrior.