Surrounded

surround (v.) sur·round [ sə równd ]

1.                   enclose something: to occupy the space all around something

2.       close off means of escape: to encircle something completely, especially an enemy's military position

3.       be around somebody: to associate closely with somebody

Surround.  It’s the only word I can think of today when I try to describe how the last 48 hours have felt to me.  At times through this experience, the surrounding is a swirl of anxiety and fear, taking my breath away.  There have been moments in the past few months where all I can do is tell myself “it’s ok, breathe, it’s ok.”  B.C., before the cancer diagnosis, we had not told most people that for months we were back and forth to doctors, running tests, getting biopsies.  We had decided to try and keep things quiet until we knew more.  In real life, we are open with those close to us, but overall pretty private folks.  We prefer to be the helpers, and prefer to do things ourselves.  The best thing about being married to Wil is that we are great team mates in whatever comes our way and that means we often just rely on each other.  It’s always worked out well, B.C.

Surround has a different feel today.  Fear and anxiety are part of our lives (it’s cancer, there is no way we won’t feel those!) but the surround…it’s starting to shift.  It’s as though I can literally feel the thoughts, well wishes, and prayers surround us more each day.  I think I can speak for Wil when I say we feel surrounded now more often by overwhelming love.  We had no expectation about documenting this journey other than to keep family and friends posted in a time efficient way.  What we have already received back in overwhelming support continues to amaze me.  Illness brings out character…and we are blessed by some great people, near and far, old and new.

Wil’s speech is improving.  I still have to ask him to repeat things so I get it right.  When he concentrates its easier to understand him. He has so many thoughts running through him yet can’t get them out like he would like.  He was somber this morning when my sister, her kids, and I arrived.  But he looked good and had slept OK (his big complaint was that the food is no good and he needed a chocolate shake…something my dad would have requested when he was in the nursing home too).  He motioned for the kids to come hug him (which on Christmas he did not, being too depressed, so the kids had to love on him at their request).  Today he kept motioning for more hugs.  That my friends, is real progress, but also made me know what he needs more…the kids in his life.

To know the special relationship he has with the eldest niece on my side of the family, can only be understood by knowing that a few weeks after her birth, we all moved in together.  Wil is a proud uncle to ALL his nieces and nephews, but we were able to help out and see all those first year milestones up close and personal.  When no one else could soothe her, it was Unkie to the rescue with his big arms and tight squeezes, just what our little sensory girl needed to sleep.  We had her many weekends even after they moved out and Wil even helped with potty training some days (I still laugh about the phone call I got when my sister dropped her off in real undies for the first time.  Wil was frantic “What do I do?  She isn’t wearing a diaper!”  But he took a few instructions and they were a great team).  They have a special bond.

Today, she marched right in to the nursing home, not phased by any sights or sounds, on a mission to room 405. She gave him a speech about getting better and that she will trade hugs for him trying to eat.  She said she needs him home (I’ve asked her many times, “how are you so smart at age 6?”  She reminded me she is almost 7).  Then she announced to us that we would “fill the room with love” by drawing pictures and writing on posters “You are handsome and strong” She kept giving hugs.  He was surrounded.  And in the pictures we took, the only one where he seemed to really smile, she had her arm around him.  Surrounded.

Wil looked at me and said “I’ve made up my mind.”  It was spoken clearly; I didn’t have to ask twice.  But I did ask about what.  He said slowly, “I’m going to do this.”

Life “on the outside” the past 48 hours I have also felt surrounded.  I am a therapist, a social worker, a helper…who honestly was quite happy doing it all with my partner in crime and not needing people as much as I am humbled to realize we do now.  I wish I could respond in bigger messages, in more thank you’s, then I am able. 

It was a good day today.  The SNF isn’t perfect.  None of them will be.  The blessing here is that he should be cared for but shouldn’t be comfortable.  We need him home, need him motivated to get home.  I, with my love of the kitchen and everything cooking, will remedy the food issue.  You all are my allies on keeping spirits high. Wil will do his best to get stronger between now and his next UTSW oncology visit on January 3, 2014. 

We’ve got this.