photo by Sheri Dixon

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Book Excerpt "CancerDance- a love story"

Yep, I did one of these before, but that was BEFORE I re-did this book and added onto it.

The first version was before.

Before we knew that the worst of "it" was yet to come.

Before we were stretched to the limits of our patience and endurance, but not our love and devotion...because that is limitless.

Before I added some stuff to the beginning to define just a bit who we are for those who don't know us.

Before the madness.

Before the recovery.

Before it was up on Kindle.

To say I like this version better than the one before sounds flip and stupid. Because there's nothing about our tiptoe through the cancerous tulips of the medical industry that I like(d). I do feel very strongly that this version is...more.

More complete in its portrayal of us as a family.

More horrifying.

More heartening.

The other version finished very open-ended, knowingly and admittedly at a point where there was no doubt that "it" was not over.

This ending feels better.

We feel better.

No, we don't know what tomorrow will bring. Anyone anywhere who thinks they know that is a fool of the worst sort.

We do know this, without a doubt.

Ward is stronger and more courageous than anyone I've ever known, ever.

As a couple, Ward and I are more in love than we were the day we first realized we were more than best friends. I fully intend to love him even more than that tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day...

As a family, we are a single unit of bullheaded indomitable power.

Our friends are true, and legion, and stalwart.

So maybe I feel better about this version because I feel better about where we are now.

Well after Before.

The Kindle version is available now, and the paper version will be available as soon as I iron out a few pesky publishing details.

And remember- it's not a book about cancer. It's a book about life.

And living.

And love.

10 April 2010 at 1:49pm

I'm back at the hotel after spending the night at the hospital. I had to get a little sleep, a shower, do the laundry since we're officially out of underwear right now, and have something to eat since the last thing I had was 8pm last night. And that was Sunchips and the head of a chocolate rabbit.

Ward's doing better. He's a lot better as of last night.

I walked in the room and there was Ward looking back at me for the first time since surgery over five days ago. No restraints. No growling. No cursing.

I spent the night with him, along with the sitter he's assigned since he still wants to get up and wander and forgets about his drains and IV, and though he rested a bit, he hasn't had any good, sound sleep since surgery—he's exhausted.

He ate a few bites of pudding last night and one bite of eggs this morning, but otherwise hasn't had anything to eat since before surgery, so he's gotta be lightheaded.

At 3am he HAD to get up and walk, so the nurse (last night's nurse and sitter were both angels pure and truly) let him get up and helped him walk for the first time since surgery. He did two laps around the floor holding onto his IV stand and was able to work off some nervous energy. Then they got him a bath and tucked him in and he was able to relax for about an hour before starting to fidget again.

In a spectacular display of dexterity, right at shift change at 7am, he went from lying flat on his back "reading," to on all fours to standing upright ON THE BED. Then did a very passable hostage-taker impression of hollering to the (ya think?) many concerned hands on him trying to keep him from falling, "EVERYBODY JUST BACK OFF. STOP PUSHING ME!"

He finally heard my voice through it saying, "Dear, just sit on the bed there right where you are." He said he wanted to sit on the chair I'd been in. I said,"Ok, but you must sit on the bed first". He asked why. I said, "Because you can't FLY."

He thought about it for a minute...then, "Oh. OK". And sat down.

My guess is that set his "ready for discharge" time back a good 12 hours or so...

He's still fuzzy, still foggy, still seeing things not visible to those of us not in the same plane of reality that he's in—ants on the floor, worms on the page of his book, and thinking the bed is tilting—still not sure of where he is or why he's there or why he can't go home, but for the most part he's sweet funny Ward again.

Golly I've missed him

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