Be Calm

Throw a Beatles "Abbey Road" blanket over this girl and you've got a fairly accurate representation of my Sunday.

In the last few days, I've started about five different posts and I've scrapped them all. Words are fickle and feel jumbled in my head. To quote the wondrous John Green, my thoughts are stars that I cannot fathom into constellations.

I can't keep my head straight. I can't stay focused. I've backspaced and retyped where I'm going with this paragraph six times already.

I checked out some books from the library last week and they remain unread.
I rented Moonrise Kingdom (which I have been wanting to see for months) and I returned it unwatched.

Yesterday was more productive, at least. I straightened up the apartment as much as possible, loaded the donation piles into my car to get them out of our living room floor, packed a few more things away for the move, and then ended up at my parents' house (with a giant container of potato soup that J made for Dad since he can't eat solid food right now). Scrubbed their bathrooms from floor to ceiling, washed dishes, took care of the cat's food dishes and litter box. J even installed a toilet in their bathroom since their toilet had decided to go kaput earlier in the day.

They've been trying a few localized radiation treatments around the tumor growing around Dad's artery -- the one that's preventing normal blood flow to and from his arm -- and as a result of those treatments, Dad's throat is basically raw. Sometimes he can chew, sometimes he can't. Sometimes warm liquids hurt him, sometimes cold liquids hurt him. He can talk, but just barely a whispered rasp. He can't sleep, because the medication he's on causes him to jerk uncontrollably, almost like he has Parkinson's, so between the shaking and the oxygen nubbins in his nose, he just simply cannot get comfortable. Sometimes he nods off sitting straight up, and then his head drops and he startles awake. On top of all that, I don't believe the radiation is helping -- his arm is getting more and more swollen, and the skin has begun to split and "weep" (which is the medical term, apparently, for leaking retained water and blood) so Mom has had to apply ointment to the stretched/cracked places and keep it bandaged at all times. The doctor has given them a prescription for a hospital bed, just in case he could rest better in an adjustable bed, but Mom hasn't filled it yet. I think our next course of action will be to rearrange a couple of rooms and figure out where to put it.

They've got a day-long marathon of doctor appointments tomorrow. I think Mom is going to broach the subject of hospice care with both the oncologists and the primary care physician to see if that's a possibility. He absolutely cannot be left on his own at this stage, that's for sure. You all know that I'm not the type to say things like this, good vibes would be welcome (and thank you to those of you who have already been thinking of us).

I can't even believe it's nearly 1am. I honestly have no idea where this day has gone. Hours of internet-hopping and watching J play Assassin's Creed III, I suppose.

I should get to bed. I think I'll listen to fun. for a while before. Cheesy though it may be, "Be Calm" really does help me when I'm on the edge of anxiety.

Be calm, be calm
I know you feel like you are breakin' down
Oh I know
That it gets so hard sometimes
Be calm...

What kind of songs soothe you and help you space out when you need it? Help a sister out and shoot me some recommendations. I'll make a mix.

All my love, guys.