Grams fall of winter, '07

something i wrote when my gram began her decline from cancer and the pain it brought.

As a child, it never crossed my mind. My grandmother cleaned up my messes and suffered my mistakes the way grandmas do. I swallowed a tooth once when i was 7, and she wanted to be sure it came back out, so she did what she felt she had to, day after day. Same rituals when i swallowed the marble. She always had shelves lined with knick knacks, just odds and ends she had collected over the years from 6 kids and flea markets. I broke my fair share. Some were glued back together and some thrown away. I never really got into any trouble for those accidents. They say what goes around comes around, and in a funny and bittersweet way, its true.
All these thoughts came back to me one day when i arrived home from work and my Gram told me that she had tried to clean up the best she could, but there was a scent in the air that explained she wasnt having a good day. As i was cleaning up behind her in the same old bathroom that i remember standing in watching her 'search for my tooth', i realized that as a child, i never would have imagined those tables ever being turned. That, my friends, is innocence. If you think about it, it really is. No shame of being taken care of, no responsibility, no damaged pride doing my business in a pan.
Its been a long road for her these past 5 years, the last being the toughest. I hate to, but i have to admit that i have guiltily found myself thinking that she has had enough. And she has, with the operations, the doctor visits, sometimes every day, the radiation, the chemo, the pills, the pills, the god damned pills, the weight loss, the weakness, the days in bed, the insomnia, the vomiting, in the floor, in the bed, the sink, out the car door, the stomach aches, the loss of taste, the falling, the cuts that wont heal, the bruises... Oh but the determination, the perserverance, the strength... And the sleep talking, moaning, sleep cries, crying out in pain when no ones around to hear ( but i hear ), the inability to determine dawn from dusk, am from pm, the double doses, the missed doses, the forgotten fyntenol patches, bottles of advil emptied like tic tacs, the sewing, the quilting, the loss of interest, the canes, the walker, the wheelchair, the bedside toilet, the bed pans, the sleeping sitting on the edge of the bed all slumped over, head to her knees, the cigarettes, god the cigarettes, the dropped cigarettes, the pain thats there, the pain, the pain. Sometimes when i hear her pain, i can feel it. Certainly its not the same, but an indescribable pain shoots through every bone in my body. It is th sickest feeling i have ever felt.
 
...the cancer, the god damned cancer.

I dont want to lose her.

As i walked through the living room, i stopped to watch her sleep as i had many times before. Sleeping, all covered up on the couch, wheezing. In the dim yellow light, she really did look bald. In brighter white light, it was short and fuzzy and white and soft and reminded me of a baby chick.
I dont want to lose her.
I just stood there and cried.
Its not about me and i dont want to lose her.
Its not about me and im not ready.
Shes not given any choices and im losing my strength to witness it all.
 

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[Shayde Carttr]

sad. very sad.
-shayde.