Hammer and chisel

I got a call from the orthopedist's office. Arlina's surgery is scheduled for August 12th. That leaves three weeks for me to fret about it. Actually, I'll probably just fret about it today and let it go until the 11th. Arlina will fret more slowly, as is her custom.

Tears that fall like a gentle rain

When I am in an emotionally vulnerable mood, it isn't the sad things that make me cry, it's the beautiful things.

(no subject)

Something I didn't mention earlier when I wrote about Arlina's surgery being scheduled was how hard it hit me. I mentioned that I would fret about it, but it goes deeper than that.

It is hard to describe--I feel so tired, as if all my strength has been drained out. It is not so much despair, but a realization that this is the last stand. There isn't going to be anything beyond this--there are no more "plan B's".

The surgery is palliative. It will reduce her pain, but it won't extend her life. Knowing the date of the surgery seems to reinforce this. For a long time this was just one of those "possible eventualities", one of the things we knew we would have to face, but not until later on.

Now I know that time is running out. It is hard to accept. I don't want this to be happening. But it is what it is, and I can't change that.


A year ago, I wrote this in my journal:

I'm just spending a moment reflecting that, in spite of everything, life is pretty good, and I wanted to share that with you.

It still holds true. Arlina and I have been blessed with so much--blessed with each other and surrounded by people who love us. I don't think we could ask for more than that.

These posts are probably difficult to read. If I were following this on my friends list, I really would be at a loss for what to say. Just knowing that you're out there is enough.