Biting. My. Tongue.

After Dave’s appointment on Monday, I was disheartened to say the least.  I felt that his doctor did him no favors and certainly wasn’t encouraging.  At the end of the visit, Dr. S gave me a hug and told me to “feel free to email or call anytime”.  At that moment, I couldn’t imagine why I would want to.  After all, he hadn’t heard me when I was sitting four feet away.  But I did email him.  I needed to let him know that he wasn’t seeing the whole picture with Dave.  My husband, a previously incredibly active and social guy has become a person who avoids most others, sleeps the day away, and spends his time ordering random crap from Amazon.  This is not cancer progression.  This is depression.  I haven’t heard back from him.  Go figure.

I made a deal with Dave after the appointment.   I felt that Dr. S had all but given him permission to throw in the towel.  Since I am not about to stand by and let that happen, I figured negotiating had to take place.  I realized that I am trying to rationalize with someone who really isn’t in the right frame of mind to be all that rational.  So, I told Dave that I would keep my mouth shut about work.  Not a word.  In exchange, he had to promise to try the increased dose of Zoloft and get counseling.  This has been SO hard and it has only been a couple of days.  Dave has not done much – went with me for a walk, hit the grocery store, took Parker to oboe lesson.  Honestly, it makes me want to cry.  If he slows down much more, I’ll have to scrape him out of the bed.  I am giving him time for the meds to kick in and hopefully for some counseling to take place.  I am hoping that in a better frame of mind, he will realize that it is boring lying around the house all day.  Samantha comes home from school at the end of the month.  I am hopeful that by then, even if it is just in an effort not to worry her, that he will get out of the house and do something meaningful.  The end of the month feels very far away.

I keep thinking about the last scan.  Yes, there was tumor growth.  But the tumors are still very very small.  Millimeters for the most part.  Now is not the time for anyone, especially his friggin doctor, to give up on him.  So, I am in a bit of a bipolar state – anger and sadness.  But as the good doctor suggested, when I think I might want to say something, I am going out with friends instead.  So, I had a coffee date yesterday, a 5 hour dinner date last night and plans for lunches on Saturday and Sunday.  Honestly, I am not sure how I will get through Friday without saying anything let alone a month.



1 thought on “Biting. My. Tongue.

  1. Robyn—I am so sorry —please stay strong. Mike and I continue to lift you and Dave in our prayers…I have sent them several e-mails asking him to get together with the FC group but he responds very brief and says—perhaps another time…
    I am so sorry—I love your commitment and courage…
    Your friend,


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