It gets harder and harder every time to deny what is happening to my friend. Of course I know she is dying and she won't get better...but if she is having a good day, it is easier to pretend it isn't happening, to protect myself emotionally. Her face is getting thinner...temples more sunken in. Her jaw line is hard and her skin has a very washed out tone. Her wrists are so skinny and her fingers look so delicate. When she is sitting on the bed, she looks about 6 months pregnant...the cancer is ravaging her insides causing her belly to expand. She should be pregnant...not laying in a hospice bed. It is a cruel visual deception and another reminder of how this just isn't fair.
She tells me she is sleeping more and more...she dreams about her dad frequently. It's almost like you can watch her brain process each movement she is going to make. It is heart wrenching at times.
I usually bring our junky car to go see her. That way, we can walk out side and she can still have a cigarette. When we are sitting in the car talking, it almost feels normal. I park the car facing the random field to the east of the building. We talk about whatever comes to mind.
We walk back to her room and she lays back in her bed. She drifts off and then comes back again. The bolus dose of medication she got is making her sleepy. We talk a bit more and she says to me, "I don't remember the last time I saw my babies." It is hard for her to keep the days straight. She calls her exhusband and asks her to bring them for a visit.
I know I can't stay and watch her with her girls. It is just too much for me. I stay for a few more moments and then I let her know I have to be getting home. I give her a hug and a kiss....tell her I love her. As I am walking out to my car, I see her daughters. They are eating icecream on a hot summer day. I get into my car and watch them go in....it's just not right.
I start the car and head home as the sun begins to set.
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