Becka asked me tonight if I thought she was getting worse. I told her the truth, that as the day goes on, she fades and fatigue takes it toll. We got up four times last night, then she got up for good about four thirty, so I got up for good. She woke me up in a great deal of pain last night. I gave her a couple of pain pills and held her until the pain subsided. She was able to relax, then we went back to sleep for about an hour.
I just finished cleaning the bathroom. It's not my best job ever, but I'm not ashamed to let people use it now. I usually clean on Saturdays and Sundays, but I'm going to sleep all day Saturday. My phone will be turned off and I'm covering the entire house with black plastic, not just the windows. The neighbors will think the house is contaminated, which is fine because they won't come close. I'm drugging the dogs and the kids, then I'm going to sleep. Sounds like a plan.
This is strange, but sometimes life doesn't seem real, and at other times, it seems too real. I don't know if that makes sense, but it's hard to find a happy median. I'm sure it has to do with fatigue, but sometimes it seems like I'm watching this all play out on television, and other times I'm in the middle of it. I think that my mind blocks it out sometimes and I deny what is really happening to the love of my life, which is okay because when I am alone, and I think about what is going on, the grief is too much to bear. I can't describe this kind of heartache. It's physical, and it causes panic attacks, which feel like your heart is going to explode in your chest. I try not to go there these days. A friend of mine told me to concentrate on how I feel about Beck, the love we have shared, and the family we have built. When I do that, the grief turns to longing, and I just want to be with her no matter what I'm doing at the time.
Life is good tonight. She's here beside of me, and she loves me. I don't need anything else right now.
Sweet Dreams and God Bless.
