The Struggle Is Real...And So Is His Pain

There is a part of care giving no one likes to talk about.  The guilty part.  The part when the doctor reduces or increases chemo.  The part when treatment decisions need to be made and you always seem to chose what WE think will save our loved ones life when if fact...it just may be speeding up the process of the inevitable.  What if the decision was wrong?  What if the best choice was to just do nothing and have faith that God will heal or allow you to enjoy your life without having to deal with poison to flow through your veins?  This is a struggle I deal with with Tony every other week.  The last 3 rounds of chemo have all been different.  Round 4 was normal 5FU, round 5 was 5FU + Oxaliplatin (FOLFOX), round 6 FOLFOX with a 40% reduction in 5FU chemo because of side effects and heart issues that seem to be arising :(

2 weeks ago I found myself calling 911 because Tony was having chest pains and I ran into our bedroom and through my ear on his chest.  His heart was out of sync and beating all funny.  I of course was scared until EMS showed up and he was perfectly fine.  Go figure right?  I was ready to scream because here we are again with symptoms with no documentation or evidence to be able to treat properly.  At the hospital they of course couldn't find anything and we came home.

The next few days Tony's had increased pain and it seemed as though his meds didn't work at all.  So we would dope him up give him an ativan and knock him out to sleep through it.  And don't judge until you are going through it. Its not easy watching your loved one in so much pain, you'd rather just watch them sleep.  Like when your hellacious 3 year old finally falls asleep after such a long trying your patience day...you walk in to check on them at they are sound asleep.  Trust me when I say, its the same.

My struggles are real and only God can judge me.  I think about life if Tony completes this journey and then feel guilty for even thinking it.  I worry about my children after their daddy is gone and I get angry when people tell me, I'm young, and strong, and will find a way to move on.  Don't tell me when I am loving my warrior through it, instead please just come do my laundry or hold me when I cry.  No words will comfort me right now, for I am scared like everyone else...I however am not allowed to show it.