This Machine Killed Cancer

Rebekah, here.

Tonight I came home to an empty house. It’s the first night of Shayne’s many months now of being in the hospital that I haven’t stayed with him - sliding off a vinyl couch, trying to arrange myself around the broken springs on an old cot, or seeing how long the two of us can manage to sleep in a bed that was definitely not built for two.

Sleeping in different houses, even different states is something that Shayne and I had grown used to. From time to time, he’d be on tour, me in NYC, I was planning on spending this summer overseas, and he was thinking about heading to DC for a bit.  It seemed easy because we were both doing what we loved and we knew that we had a lot of years ahead of us; rocking back and forth on a front porch, talking about the good old days.

Tonight it’s not so easy. The silence is loud. 

These days I’ve found that a quiet mind is rare. If I’m not collecting diligent notes and research for doctors, insurance companies, bill collectors or lawyers, I’m reading about “go straight to the emergency room, do not pass go” side effects of Shayne’s ever growing list of medicines. There’s chemo to fight the cancer, medicine to combat the side effects of the chemo, more medicine to combat the side effects of the medicines that combat the side effects of chemo, and now a list of herbs to balance out all of the above. 

I divide my time between caretaker and new co-worker, having recently started a new job means that my mind is also full of work: do not use divs for e-mail, is the weekly meeting at 10 or 11 on Mondays? What’s the password for the server? And if I can’t think of that, what’s the password for the list of passwords? I’ve been trying to soak up Drupal and refresh my memory about web standards. It’s the kind of stuff I stay up late to watch tutorials.  I don’t hesitate to work on the weekends. I look forward work to even on the days when part of me would rather be at home with Shayne.

So when I’m caught up on work and am made to sit quietly in our empty loft, I can’t help but notice what’s not there. No one else is brushing their teeth, there’s no guitar coming from the extra bedroom, and only my dishes are in the sink.

When Shayne and I first started dating, I told that even though he could try, chances are I would always love my dog Otis more than him. This was no fault of his own, but Otis just happened to be the most perfect and kind creature in the world. This seems ridiculous now. I love them both with my whole heart.

Tonight when I let Otis crawl into bed with me, he looked a bit confused. Someone walked down the hallway as we were falling asleep; Otis lifted his head and started wagging his tail. There was no key turning in the lock, so he laid down his head and sighed. It was clear that I wasn’t the only one missing…