I had a good cry…

I had a good cry this morning, and that’s OK.  It was around 8 a.m.  I sat at the kitchen table alone. XM’s Coffee House played acoustic covers.  I was exhausted and short of breath, even light-headed a bit.  My bones ached.  My food tasted bland.  I put my hands to my forehead, leaned forward and cried.  Really wept.  134 pounds this morning and still waiting to begin IV nourishment and continue cancer treatment.  They keep setting me up but so far no fix.  They keep billing me as though I am rich.  Insurance plays its games, and my sweet wife endures the stress of the financials in all of this.

So I cried hard.  I prayed.  I let it all out.  My nose ran.  Frisbee empathized; he lay at my feet.  The sun and rain competed for my view.  Birds sang.  Breezes blew.  

Then I stopped weeping and moved on.  That is what you do — you move on.

I did dishes and put my kitchen sink homemade vegetarian chili on in the crock pot slow cooker.  I wrote.  I did emails and checked ball scores.  I facebooked.

I took my meds and vitas.  I took a call from the nurse who will train us on my pick line IV today.  I wrapped a Mother’s Day gift for my wife.  

Now I am ready to nap.  But I’m smiling, not crying.







2 Responses to “I had a good cry…”

  1. megan hicks Says:

    You said earlier that cancer isolates. Cuts you off as it cuts you down. Truly, in the face of your ordeal, your courage, your candor, I’m abashed. What comment can I possibly offer that’s profound enough, stark enough, real enough to even be relevant in this context? A grieving friend once told me, “Saying the wrong thing is vastly better than saying nothing at all.” So, simple as it is, here’s my response: Your words touch my heart.

  2. Rob Grogan Says:

    Love you, Megan. Hoping you and Jack can come by before too long.

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