I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I read all the material the kind hospice people brought me. I know that the novacaine of relief will wear off and I will probably cycle through the levels of pain again and again.
For now, I am doing okay. I have a few business things to do; a few insurance issues to see to; an urn to select. But I am fine.
As I actually made my bed this morning I realized he never slept on these sheets. He bought them for me–or threw them in the Costco cart just after the doc banished him to the bed with rails–the cage he hated. He could still walk then. But the sheets…went from package to laundry to bed and then to the laundry again. They do not smell like him. Nothing in the house smells like him. Cancer and the cycle of everyday life took his scent away.
I’d love to bury my nose in a sweat shirt and find him there.
