Ex's Brain Radiation, Day 3 of 15

This third day of radiation seemed to start roughly, but later, just like in "The Christmas Story," we were visited by three angels.

Prior to treatment, we were frustrated by the beauracracy as we worked together to get something (anything!) resolved concerning his employment, insurance, and continued care.

We finally got through to HR (human resources) at his company, and from there to their insurer,
who began our claim for short term disability. We notified the company's Leave Administration Team, who are sending application papers for FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act: Protects your job and therefore, your benefits, but doesn't pay anything).

What a relief! The balls are FINALLY rolling, and The Ex doesn't have to report for work until further notice.

I was quite pleased about this particular milestone, but it's yet another leg gone from The Ex's Stool of Comfort.

Now, he can't speak, can't hear, can't drive and can't work. Even if they did make a stool with five legs, a one-legged stool won't do for a dizzy SCLC patient.

The Ex could work in some capacities if they'd let him, but he can't draw short term disability and work, even on an abbreviated schedule, and this hurts him (and me!) deeply.

He suggested that he wanted his treatments earlier in the day. He hates waiting until 1 p.m. I'm sorry about that, but this schedule works for me. I'm able to work from 8-noon, and am back at work from 1:30 on, caregiving and trips to other docs and pharmacies nothwithstanding.

I tried to reason with Hurricane Season, and while it fell on truly deaf ears in the morning, by afternoon, he'd decided that the current schedule was okay. He doesn't really have anywhere to go, but if we don't find something for him to do, I just might have to kill him.

Fatigue from radiation has set in tonight, I think. He keeps apologizing for being so tired. "It's ok," we keep saying. "REST!" Balance isn't great either. He nearly fell once, but instead landed with his butt on the coffee table. Our son caught him, and a beverage spilled, but we ruled the play "no harm, no foul."

But, back to the angels.

The first angel was a friend of The Ex's -- a rough and tough guy, a former co-worker, whom the Ex likes and respects. After a long discussion of "the good old days" of illegal activity and rebel-rousing, The Ex's friend began to witness his personal salvation to The Ex.

He told about an post-drug consumption, out-of-body experience, where he was asked whether he wanted to live or go to hell. The Ex's friend chose life. After that, the friend described a phone call for prayer to the 700 Club, and a feeling of "being washed, from my head to my toe, as though I was clean for the first time in my life."

His was a beautiful story, and before Angel Number One left, he and The Ex were looking at my Bible together -- both complaining that my Bible's type was definitely too small to be enjoyed. A tiny wrong, easily righted later.

Next, the second angel, our son, visited. Just his presence alone brings much needed joy into our home. This angel will be with us all weekend.

And finally, Angel Number Three arrived, one of my friends, who's been dying for a chance to witness to The Ex.

I met her at the door, and told her of the visit of Angel Number One, and we both said a prayer of thanks right then and there. At last, my friend had a chance to share John 3:16, planting another seed for The Ex's eternal life.

Now, just to be fair, I want to add that The Ex is always free to believe what he likes. I wouldn't even mind if he had an eastern sort of spiritualism, just as long as he believes there is something bigger than himself. As time goes on, his most bitter pill has been learning that he is the not the most powerful being in his world; he cannot control his fate.

Worse, I think, would be believing that death is an ending to dread, instead of a beginning with the promise of peace and love.

Angel Number Three gave me a ride to a local BBQ place to get a "Feast for Four," and she and I blessed the food together, alone in the kitchen, before we served it.

She stayed a little longer and did a lot of listening, something I guess I needed, and then, POOF! She was off to be someone else's angel! And later, I bet she'll be shopping for a Bible with great, big words.