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How Do You Really Feel

General

Whenever someone asks how Alan is doing, I’m never sure what to say, and specifically, how much to say. Should I keep my response general, light and fluffy and easy to digest? Or should I tell it how it really is and talk about the latest thing that’s come up? Because that is how cancer seems to work — there is always something new coming up. It’s almost like we have a newborn baby on our hands, a little person doing new, Tweet-worthy things all the time: the baby just smiled (and a real smile too, not just a passing gas one)! the baby just giggled! the baby likes banana tapioca!

The new thing lately with the cancer baby is the diarrhea. It’s one of the side effects of Alan’s chemotherapy, and perhaps one of the most annoying. It is so relentless that it keeps him from leaving the house all day and insists that he gets up 10 times a night to pay it attention.

Because anytime he moves in the night I worry that his bowels are obstructed or that he might be running a dangerously high fever (seriously, I don’t even know where these concerns come from), I wake up each time he does. So although the majority of me wants this new bother to go away so he can feel better, a small part of me (the part that loves sleep almost to a fault) wants it to stop so I can get a good night’s rest.

When I get home from work, I find him in bed, with an arm strewn across half his face, covering his left eye. He is staring at a point in the exact center of the room and is wearing a look that is asking me please can you dig a hole under the house and just bury me there and also can you drive the car while I take my bat and smash mailboxes on the other side? When I ask him how he is doing, he responds, “I’m sick of it all.” And I am impressed with how his answer is both easy to digest and conveys how he really feels. We discuss the issue of the loose stool and the immense amount of suckiness it brings. He then adds in sound effects to let me know what his stomach has been sounding like (a sort of RowwwrRoowwrRowwrrr) so that I don’t confuse the noises for violent trucks thundering by in the night time. It is a sweet, thoughtful gesture that moves me so much I decide to call and order Chinese take out.

Last modified: January 10, 2019