I know that springtime is supposed to be the time for renewal and rejuvenation. For the Kirshenbaums, we're just tired. When I spoke with my parents tonight, Mom had been sleeping for the past three hours. She woke up mid conversation, but requested to just listen; she was too tired to talk. Dad is exhausted, too-he's putting in longer hours at work and trying to be in two places at the same time, rushing to shower, rushing back to Mom's side. I am finally sleeping again, the last two nights easily ten hours. When I woke up this morning at 9am, I nervously checked in on myself. Why am I sleeping so much? Am I depressed? I think I'm really just tired. And just taking advantage of having days where I don't need to be accountable in the morning. And feeling horribly guilty that I have the luxury of sleep when my dad doesn't.
Gary asked me tonight what we can do to ease this burden, short of moving to Seattle. I don't know.
Mom has chemo again on Wednesday. We don't know yet who will be administering it. We don't know yet if she will have the intrathecal or just the systemic. We don't know yet if she will have to have a "lumbar punch." We don't know when the next MRI or CAT scan is scheduled, to check on the tumors, to see if they grew or spread during the time away from treatment. Everything is a big question mark. So Mom sleeps, drained of energy, courtesy of Taxol. And I sleep, shutting my windows to the sunshine and bird songs. And Dad doesn't sleep, listening for Mom's breathing all through the night.