So a few weeks back, we were at the BIDMC Emergency Room for what our oncologist rakishly referred to as a  "quick" MRI.  Anyone who has been to this particular ER knows that nothing happens quickly, and if you think differently, perhaps we could interest you in our almost new, self-service lobotomy.

After about 4 hours waiting, overhearing wisps of conversations through the polyester curtain/walls of this place, my sense of the absurd was duking it out with my irritation at how long this was promising to take. (In all. we were 13 hours, including his initial appointment)

Suddenly a dull drone of a voice was raised over the general din.

"Hello, Mr. Brown. I am Wendell, and I am here to take you to the other side."    !!  
I waited only a nanosecond to see if I could hear Della Reese sing "When you Walk down the Road.." before erupting in uncontrollable laughter.  Yes, folks, thats how we roll.  God tucks irony and absurdity for us to find in the lousiest situations, and for us, there is no disrespect meant or taken when we discover such a gem.

Frankly, I'm amazed the blog is still here!!  Last post was November of 2010.  Actually, not too much of general interest has happened that would have been noteworthy enough to publish.  We went to a spectacular wedding in DC (my second favorite city) a year ago, and then to the funeral of my dear cousin and friend Dot Powell in October. Other than that. it has been sort of quiet.

Jim has had very few hospitalizations compared with before...two small surgeries, and a couple of weeks in ICU kicking pneumonia and the flu. But recently, his vision has become dramatically worse, (totally unrelated to the myeloma) and reading on his Kindle has come to an end.  Good thing it's Sox season... he usually rallies for the game.

Over the past several months, we have done a LOT of talking about what he still Can do, and what he might LIKE to do. Then in early April, he went to bed doing pretty well, and got up in the middle of the night and fell. We took him to the hospital when it was clear this wasn't a "shrug it off" episode, and after a stay of at BI Boston, it was apparent he might have lost his ability to walk.  Until then, he had only been tossing around the idea of quitting the chemotherapy pills.  Most days weren't too spiffy.  Again spoke heart to heart, and agreed that if he wanted to turn to Hospice instead, we all supported whatever choice he made.

So with dazzling speed, my dining room set was repurposed, and a hospital bed replaced the table, along with sundry extras to help him adjust to his new digs.  My old bed from my back surgery days fit neatly around the corner from his room, and suddenly the ordeal of the stairs was behind us both.

Can't say enough good things about Hospice.  They take care of refilling the meds and having them delivered, they visit when we want them, and not when we don't.  After settling in,  this past month, only one nurse comes, once a week, unless we run into problems.  But they are available 24/7 as needed.

For the moment, I don't really think we are on the cusp of anything dire, although with time, the cancer will return and will surely hasten his demise.  Hard to digest as that might be, the time we have had since he recovered from his stem cell transplant has been a gift.  We talked though a lot of things....not just family things, but more stuff, even flirting with the esoteric.  He worked so hard to bring the low level radiation truths to the surface... he needed to realize that although those who carry the torch don't always get to see it lit at its destination. they are essential to the outcome, nonetheless.

Laura quit her job about a week before Jim came home, and is here to help me night/day.  Lynn lives nearby and is a mini-me....don't know if thats good or not, but for now a godsend.  Matt lives in Boston so he is here less. but we are in constant contact, and he is handling some of the paper work which can be pretty daunting to me.  So we're all on board, and I am astonishingly lucky to have them.

My plan is to continue contributing to this blog, perhaps going a bit further astray from the original desire to only report on Jim's progress. We all need a break from the long good-bye we face.  He deserves to laugh as often as possible, and we all benefit from seeing this time as a natural part of the living process rather than as a unique  tragedy.