On This Day

My stunningly gorgeous man at 42

Two years ago, on this day, The Amazing Bob died –  the first time.

We'd just had a mega stressful, depressing visit with his cancer doc where, on top of finding out that he was now riddled with the killer Mantle cells, he had a serious respiratory issue. My hero had to stay “overnight" at Chez MGH. When we went down to the ER to get admitted, my beautiful prince had a monster, killer heart attack.

He died. The fabola medics brought him back to life.

I was, quite understandably, a total fucking mess. All the nurses and trauma helpers, though, commented out how well I was handling things. Dark humor – often mistaken for control and sanity.

Here on June 27, 2018 It feels as though no time at all has passed. I'm there in the ER watching the MGH Angels pumping away as a nurse asks me focusing, distracting questions. I'm shaking more than Michael J. Fox on a truly nasty-ass bad day. The ER staff asks me if I have Parkinson’s. Oni tells them no, this is how her nerve damaged self responds to extreme stress. I'm ok (physically),” I add. Incredible how much I was able to rightly lipread while this hellscape played out in front of me.

Me and TAB on his 74th, his last, bday

Today I will do as Janice advised. I will nurture myself. I will be kind to me and do things which will soothe. In a couple minutes Jen and I will go to brekkie down at Starzzz. Afterward, I’ll take a long walk on Nantasket. Next, mebbe a fun movie The Incredibles II possibly. Jen, Oni and I will get Thai take out for dinner (from our new fave joint) and watch and ep or two of Eureka.

If I still had hearing I'd be listening to Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s album Brain Salad Surgery, John Cale’s album Fear and Paul Simon. I'll paint and cuddle with Coco. I’ll read.

I'll get through it. Next big hard day is July fourth, the day TAB died forever.

In my head RIGHT NOW:

And I believe in the future
We shall suffer no more
Maybe not in my lifetime
But in yours I feel sure
Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm
And these streets
Quiet as a sleeping army
Send their battered dreams to heaven, to heaven
For the mother's restless son

Who is a witness to, who is a warrior
Who denies his urge to break and run
Who says: Hard times?
I'm used to them
The speeding planet burns
I'm used to that
My life's so common it disappears
And sometimes even music
Cannot substitute for tears

Paul Simon, The Cool, Cool River