Ex's Brain Radiation, Day 11 of 15

From the time he wakes in the morning until we leave for radiation at 12:30 p.m., he sits as his computer, catching up on emails, checks in on his user boards, checks the sale ads, reads the paper, and drinks coffee.

He doesn't seem bored, but it is sad not to see him dressed in his work attire and fiddling with that cussed hand-held device that used to rule his life.

I know there was a time when I felt the hand-held thing was a monster,
calling him off to do this or that when he was so ill. But he never complained to his company or his customers. Work was everything to him, and he was very, very good at his job.

In a way, it's good that we have to be at radiation every weekday at 1 p.m. It gives us a goal and purpose, and it gets us out of the house!

Just prior to my return, Ex lost his voice due to a paralyzed vocal chord, the result of the metastatic disease in his chest. Just prior to that, after experiencing balance problems, he was diagnosed with a new met in his brain and told not to drive. One of his three courses of chemo seems to have taken even more of his hearing away.

He is frequently frustrated, now that he can't talk, can't walk (without a cane), can't drive, can't work, and can't hear. Who wouldn't be frustrated by that? Ex is only 54, and will be 55 on Thanksgiving.

Compounding his frustration is his never-ending quest to make his doctors understand his health insurance. If they write an Rx for a week it costs $7. If they write an Rx for 3 months, it costs $7. So naturally, he wants them to write as much of the Rx as they will, and not all docs are brave enough to do that.

We ran into that situation today, at the radiological oncologist's office. Ex had written the Rx's he needed, exactly as he needed them written for his insurance. But this was too much for that doc. He called our primary onc doc, who asked to come by her office (just across the parking lot with the vegetables and herbs planted in the medians) for the Rx's -- just as Rx'd by the Ex.

He can't talk, can't walk, can't hear, but he can SURELY keep track of his insurance and how to get the most of his coverage. Explaining his position was exasperating for him. Speaking with no vocal chords impairs breathing, and the more he tried to explain his Rx requests, the redder his ears got. Even a nurse noticed his scarlet ears, but truly, it was a physiological response to his frustration.

In the end, The Ex won, and he got his Rx's as he wanted them.

Eleven down, four to go. Side effects seem to have been few, and The Ex doesn't complain about headaches or nausea. Most of all, his misses his ability to speak because he has so much left to say.

As long as he can whisper, I will be here to listen.