So....not good news yesterday....not good at all. I couldn't bring myself to post about it yesterday. I couldn't bring myself to do much of anything yesterday. We bought junk (I turn to Cheetos in moments of extreme duress), rented some movies (the Blues Brothers and PeeWee's Big Adventure) and drank a fair amount.
The cancer is in his bones. In his fucking bones. How can his body betray him this way?
He will go for another MRI on Wednesday to look more carefully at his spine. Then we'll see Dr. Sapiente on Friday and we'll talk about the results and then he'll have a radiation simulation. I imagine he'll start radiation pretty quickly after that. Then we'll also see Dr. Graham, who is his medical oncologist, and see what other drugs can be added to the hormones he is taking.
Neither of us could sleep last night. We laid in bed for hours awake and restless. Ernie finally got up a little before five this morning. He looks exhausted.
I laid there wanting to hurt something. I wanted to gouge woodwork or slash upholstery....wanting to make something hurt as much as I do. Foolish, because I know I can't. And part of me understands why people cut themselves (not that I will mind you) because it almost seems that if I just made a little cut then some of the pain could pour out. I know it won't though.
So I'm not sure what we're doing today. Licking our wounds I guess.
Thanks to whomever left soup on our porch.