Today in "This Room in Hell"

I slept yesterday, far longer than a non pregnant and/or new mother should. And I am neither. I slept. The first few hours were a physical replenishing of the sleep I've lost. The last 15 hours was the sleep of someone who has crawled into a dark hole and tried to pull the sod over her head.

I woke this morning and spent the day in a frenzy of cleaning. And I am here to tell you that a hand held Shark steam cleaner, a Kirby, and the Shark floor cleaner is such a fabulous triumvirate that you can accomplish a level of satisfaction that makes you forget the absence of sex. Seriously. Okay, maybe it's the meds.

I get to sleep again tonight. If I take a decent dose of benadryl, the crying into my pillow will not plug me up so bad that I can't wear my C-Pap.

I'm trying to figure out how to go forward, and my options are sorely limited. If the doctors can't fix what's wrong with Rich, then all I know is that he can't come home. I can't take care of him all night long and then work all day long--even if I can arrange for people to take care of him during the day. Geez, I hate this whole being human thing. The alternative is a nightmare that haunts my every breath.

Fortunately I'm floating. I float in faith, and the amazing friendship and family that I have. I float in the absolute knowledge that this is our path and it will lead to where we're meant to be. As sappy as that may sound, that's all I've got. And I'm learning to be incredibly content with that.

I went in to see him this afternoon. He was sleeping. His nephew Eddie was there, I motioned him to follow me out of the room, and we had a such a warm conversation. We came back to the room and the three of us had a nice visit, and then when it was just Rich and me, I curled up in the bed beside him and we snuggled. There wasn't a whole lot to say. After awhile you can no longer comment on the decor of your Room in Hell. We locked on to the NOW of snuggling and holding on to each other....breathing. Breathing into each other. Then the mantra we share ... "we will beat this." We renew our vows daily.

It will be interesting to see what the doctors want to do next. I'm just hoping we get some more time that is not submerged in the sludge of cancer. Maybe that's too much to ask for.