I’ve been putting off posting any updates about R Man for months. Donna Lethal wrote me weeks ago and asked about us and I callously ignored her sweet note; I hope she accepts this as an apology and a reply.
R Man is very weak. He can no longer get out of bed and swallowing has become very difficult; he chokes on water. He is rarely lucid and often seems to be quietly hallucinating. This evening Secret Agent Fred and I were unable to wake him up to give him some medicine. He’s just sort of dazed, asleep with his eyes open. Considering the range of indignities that come with this level of invalidism, I guess that’s just as well, at least he is unaware of them. On the other hand he does not seem distressed or unhappy and he’s here at home. It is the end I would have chosen for him, I suppose.
As for me, I am pretty much all right. Honestly. The worst part of all this seems to have been earlier this summer. At that time, R Man as an individual, someone whom you could engage in conversation, who could make bad, bad jokes, who could remember the life we had made together faded and disappeared. The man I loved was gone and I was grief stricken and angry and crazy and it was a bad time.
So now I’m taking care of the physical remains. I don’t begrudge it, I still love him and would have this no other way. It’s just different.
If I ever imagined this sad time, I pictured the grief and wondered how I would get through it. I never thought about the physical part, never dreamed that the hard work of it would be the defining element. Let me take time now to give a big shout out to our many friends who have been such an enormous support to me through this, especially Super Agent Fred, John, Diane, and Gaye. Angels with dirty faces, one and all.
So why have I ignored all this in favor of chatting about bad movies and houseboys? In part because it just doesn’t seem to fit here. Also though, in reading other people who are going through or have gone through this, the same phrase comes up over and over again: “I just want my old life back.” I don’t want enlightenment, or piles of gold, or armies of buttboys; I just want to go back to sitting around the fire reading with R Man. I want my old life back, but that’s gone, that’s just how it is. But my blog has remained a tiny sliver of what I had before and I would like to cling to that.
So. I don’t think I will be talking about R Man again, until the end comes. Honestly, I can’t imagine that will be very long. When it does come, I know I can rely on you guys for internet based support. Thanks.