Hard Pills to Swallow

 Have you ever cried yourself dry? You’re still crying, but the tears are missing. Your tear reservoir is empty. Your eyes are burning— like you’ve submerged yourself in the ocean with them open for over three hours. 

I’m past that point. 

Matt went for an early scan in the trial. In true fashion of our ongoing luck, of course it’s bad news. There is no other type of news for us it seems. We’ve been given a handful of more hard to swallow pills. 

Matt isn’t able to continue the trial, the cancer is progressing more than expected. Indicating it isn’t working  So today was his last day. He has come home. We have arrived back at square one. 

The next Hail Mary I’m planning, is radiation. We’re delivering his scans in the morning to his radiology team and hoping he qualifies for some type of radiation treatment. Desperate for another month, week, an extra day. I’d take any of it. Not just for myself, but for my children. 

The main reason is our children. I think it’s important to prepare the mother and wife that will someday be where I am now, to just keep going. 

Couraira cried last night before bed. We called Matt. She told him he’s so important to her and she just wants him home. She told him over and over how much she loved him. By two o’clock in the morning, she was in my bed. She crawled into his spot and laid there until the sun came up. Cerafina joined us by three-thirty in the morning. 

They’ll never lose him to Baltimore again, but eventually they’ll lose him for longer. Forever. There’s the nastiest of the pills to be swallowed. There are thirty more pills lined up beside it. They all suck too. 

So to the woman, that I may or may not reach, who will be in my shoes. I see you, facing life without your best friend, the father of your child(ren), facing a life alone— you have to pick yourself up. 

Grab a 16.9oz of Poland Spring or a half handle of Tito’s and swallow down the pills. Then gather yourself and push on. You need to find the next possible plan. Fight for the days, weeks and months. He deserves you at your best. And if you have children they do too. 

Tomorrow is another day. With less hope, but now you’ve swallowed the nastiest of pills.