5/23/11

Leave Me Alone, Part II

I think I've figured out at least part of the hospice people's claim about people losing interest in the world as they get closer to death.

I don't know that it's losing interest, so much as it's losing the ability to express interest.

My experience of this chemo thing is that as the side effects get ickier, and as fatigue drains my focus and my internal resources, my interest in the world - and in people - becomes more receptive and less expressive, if that makes sense.

There are a lot of things that I would very much like to do, and many people that I very much want to interact with... but getting up the energy and focus to actually do even very simple things takes so much effort and seems to eat up so much time that I simply don't have the ability to talk/write to the people I'd like to interact with, or do the things I'd like to do.

By the time I get up (before 7am), stop the nosebleed, eat a meal, either go to a doctor appointment or skim through my emails, maybe have a snack, stop another nosebleed, take a nap, eat dinner, spend a few minutes with my husband and/or kid... I might have a little time to either write a couple short emails OR watch a bit of television OR write a post to one of my blogs OR talk to one person on the phone somewhere in there.  Maybe.  And that will pretty much wipe me out, and I'll go to bed at around midnight.  Or later.

Seriously, that's more than half my days, right there.  You would think there was plenty of time to do lots of other stuff in there, but somehow for me there isn't.  Things just seem to take forever to do.

I suspect I must do a lot of staring into space or something, while I martial the energy to breathe.  But I'm not consciously aware of that part.

When someone is there in front of me, I love to be with them.  And I think about all of you - I definitely have not lost interest.  I love to hear from you, I enjoy our talks, I am curious about what you are doing.  I've just lost the ability to chase after you: to write the post, to write the email, to call you up, to send the card.

I know it's pretty easy to interpret that as a loss of interest.  But that's not it.  It's more a loss of my place in the Space/Time Continuum.  Somehow my days are only 3 hours long or so, even though the demands on my time are the same as they were when I had a full 24 hours.

So feel free to write, or call, or even make a lunch date.  I'm listening.  It's just hard for me to catch you when you are all running past so very quickly...

6 comments:

Delighted Hands said...

You have expressed where you are perfectly.

I have seen two loved ones go to this zone, it is a mustering of energy that has to take place.

We can take a page from a cat's book-they go into hiding, sleeping and healing until they can face the world again when injured.

Take as much time as you need!

Anna Rachnel said...

Time flies when you're NOT having fun Eileen. I get it. And why is everybody always in such a rush? Thinking of you.....

The Violet Hoarder said...

Just be where you are. Nothing else to do. Conserve your energy and spend it where you need to. Sometimes slo-mo is not so bad. Be sure to look out the window and soak up the green!

soren2go said...

I watched my son go to this place where you are at. I learned to give him space and be there for him if he asked. We, who send you love and prayers for this journey, understand your needs at this time. We do not expect replies. We just want you to know we care about you and your family.
May you have strength and courage to face each day that is given you....
Leslie

CF said...

Living with cancer...it just takes such a toll. A yoga teacher of mine started a long weekend workshop with the words: "There's no place you need to go, and nothing you need to do." I think it's a good mantra for living with or without cancer. Sometimes it's good to just go inward.

mrspao said...

Big hugs xxx I know you are thinking of us and we are thinking of you xxxx