all-serve-the-beam

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile to my tet-mates, 

I'm not quite coping as well as I'd thought I would with her loss, but I'm still here, and still moving. I have my kas-ka-gan to thank for that - as always, he's my light in the darkness and my greatest motivation to keep on going. 

If it isn't too much an indulgence of sorrows on my part, mayhaps I'll post a few more pictures of my Mia on here from time to time, if only to have a means to show you all how beautiful she was. 

May we be well-met on the path. 

#jay is morose #jay is tired #the dark tower #gunslinger #cancer

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile, Gunslinger, hile. My heart breaks for thee tonight, and my thoughts are with thee and thine. We may not know each other, but I pray for peace and healing for you and your ka-tet. Stand and be true, Gunslinger, and know that you are loved and that we hold you in our hearts. May we be well-met on the path.

Hile to you, Sai. 

I thank thee for thy kind words, and for thy prayers for me and mine in the uncertain days that lie ahead as my world moves on. No change to this degree is easy, nor is it wanted, but it's the words and prayers of others, and the support of our ka-tet, that moves us ever forward and ever onward. 

May we be well-met on the path. 

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile, tet-mates. 

No merry greet the day this time, I'm afraid. I just... don't feel it.

It still feels like a bad dream, honestly. Some part of me still feels like I'm going to wake up and it's going to be Wednesday morning, and I'll go on with my day as if nothing happened. But the rest of me kens it, despite not wanting to. I woke to her call that night, and by the afternoon of Wednesday, she was gone. 

My father isn't managing well, but I suppose neither am I. What a Gunslinger I am, wanting nothing more than to run to his Mia and have everything be okay again. And it will be eventually, but not yet. Not yet. 

Now's a time for mourning, and remembering. Would that I had more to say. I find words escape me at present. 

May we, and she, be well-met on the path.

#jay is mourning #jay is lost #gunslinger #the dark tower

[all-serve-the-beam]

In the end, the wind takes everything, doesn’t it? And why not? Why other? If the sweetness of our lives did not depart, there would be no sweetness at all.

The Wind Through The Keyhole

At 3:54pm, the world lost a little more of its light. May we meet again, at the clearing of the end of the path. I love you, Mia.

#thank you all #jay is mourning #gunslinger #the dark tower #cancer

[all-serve-the-beam]

False Friends

Hile, tet-mates - 

It's striking how quickly we learn the true nature of others when faced with hardships. Even more striking is how often they disappoint us - rather than rise to the occasion to support a friend, they turn on us like rabid animals. 

For quite some time now, I've helped a friend, whom I've held as close to me as my own kin, through her troubled journey along the path. I've spent countless hours soothing her anxieties, trying to bolster her confidence, convince her that people weren't inclined to hate her immediately, the list goes on. 

Yet here I find out that as soon as I dare say anything about myself, what happens but the situation becomes all about her - how my daring to have an upset such as this in my life is so incredibly traumatic to her that she has anxiety attacks and dissociative states and fits... Yet she doesn't even know my Mia. Somehow the fact that my Mia has cancer becomes all about this girl's troubled mind, and I'm the bastard for daring to pay more attention to my mother than her. 

Needless to say, I've cut ties and have no intention of re-establishing them. Yet I continue to hear word through the vines that she continues to check in on my life, and cries to all that would hear that I'm such a terrible man for cutting her out of my life when all she brought to me was more hardship and sorrow. How it's such a ridiculous thing that I dare to speak elsewhere of my Mia's health - I ought to just keep it bottled up inside because how dare I let it out. How she's fed up with my mother's health issues and has become indifferent and hardened to it because "it's just been going on so long you've left me no other choice but to disconnect and not care about it anymore". 

Pardon my Mia for daring to fight cancer instead of just laying down to die then, you heartless harlot. I owe you nothing in this world or any other, I bent over backwards to try helping you and after a string of slaps in the face I cannot and will not do so anymore - and yet I'm the villain in your sordid little tale? I may not always uphold the White - no man is always the pinnacle of virtue, and a Gunslinger's work often leads us into grey areas, do ye ken it? - but I'm hardly the terrible thing she's made me out to be in her own, sick mind. 

Just color me angry, I suppose, to have someone turn on me so. A reminder that those we can count on in life are few and far between. My trust will certainly not be so easily given in the future again. 

May we be well met on the Path. 

#jay is tired #the dark tower #gunslinger #jay is sick of being betrayed

[all-serve-the-beam]

Nearing the Clearing

Hile, tet mates. Since September she's been in. We've had pneumonia twice, surgery, a resection, but in the end it's all for naught. The cancer is stage four. The surgeries can't keep her bowels open and working long enough. As such, my Mia has elected to go home and start palliative care, then hospice. And when she's ready to go, she'll stop the TPN and stop drinking liquids, and go. Cancer is so unnecessary. Uncalled for. If it were an accident or a heart attack or diabetes, that I could settle more easily with. But this suffering is horrific, and needless. Beyond that I don't know what else to say. May we be well met.

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile, tet-mates. 

Ever onward and downward, it seems. Mayhaps the clearing at the end of the path lies at the end of a trek downhill. 

A five-week span, nearing six, that she's been in, and I take increasing issue with the ammies. 

Last week, she was scheduled for surgery at last. A bowel resection, since what's connected to the ostomy just isn't working, and the rest of her intestine is still good. 

The day of the surgery she woke with a high fever, and they rescheduled it to place her on antibiotics. Pneumonia they said, likely caused by her aspirating some fluid from her stomach despite the NG tube. It's been backing up of late, and the ammies on the oncology floor never seem to pull their heads out of their collective arse to recall to flush the damn thing out every few hours, do ye ken it? 

Last... Tuesday, I think it were, they drained a liter of fluid from one lung. 

Wednesday evening, she called me to let me know she was having troubles breathing, and scared. I asked if she needed me, and she said no but that I should leave a means for contact if she stopped breathing. 

2am Thursday morning I received the call, that she was moved from her ward to critical care and being placed on a respirator. From the dawn of Thursday until midmorning Sunday, I believe I spent over 43 hours in that hospital. She was taken off the respirator once but back on in the span of less than 36 hours. I've run myself ragged going this way and that, trying to take care of her and fight my useless, shameful excuse for a father the entire time. Though he finally seems resolved and willing to cooperate, after seeing all that I've got to keep straight in my head. 

I shoot with my mind. 

The ammies and doctors there felt the wrath of a Gunslinger's tongue, however, when it came to listening to me properly. It's amazing how folk who know a woman for thirty-six hours and just barely even then, believe they know better than the man caring after her for three years and going. She kept having fluid come up when they didn't flush the tube, so I raised hell to ensure they'd flush it every two hours and sit her upright instead of laid back. 

No more fluid coming up. 

Again, I shoot with my mind. 

This battle is an uphill one, and this morning, I was finally brought to a knee with an unexpected emotional blow. 

My Mia sent me an electronic missive of sorts, since she can't speak right now, to my ever-ready means of contact. Just to tell me that she loved me, and she's my forever-mia. And since then, I'm less a Gunslinger and more a weeping child what wants to just hear his mother's voice. 

I just want her to be okay. 

She's mostly sedated, but they bring her about a few times a day. It' 

#dark tower #gunslinger #jay is morose

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile, tet-mates. She's not come home since the last posting, I believe. I'm writing while on assignment, so I'm afraid I can't check the date. But my Mia hasn't come home yet, and sometimes I fear she won't. Because it seems like it's just going to keep on going down. Her insides don't work proper, do ye ken it? She can't pass food from her stomach even with the ileostomy - that bit of her intestine just isn't working. They can't (or won't) do surgery until she's finished chemotherapy, but at present all I'm able to hope is that they'll keep her in this time since she has to have an NG tube in or she vomits the excess stomach acid. I'm tired. She's tired. My father is tired. It just feels like it won't ever really end with anything but the real end - and that's the last thing I want, because she's got so much fight left in her that this pain is chipping away at.

#dark tower #cancer #jay is troubled

[all-serve-the-beam]

There are times, tet-mates, when I wish that it could be over for her. Because this constant slow decline is killing her faster than the cancer. In spirit and in hope. And there are times when I feel I've none left to give her, but sit at her side strong and stalwart all the same with no tears. And these past few months, made of ins and outs and ins again, close calls and too many long nights and emergency rides for her salvation, are draining even a gunslinger's resolve. May we be well-met on the path.

#jay is tired #gunslinger #the dark tower #cancer

[all-serve-the-beam]

Out and In Again

Hile and... Not quite merry greet the day, tet-mates.

Out a week and in again, it seems like this is starting to become an unending cycle. 

Last night my father, incredibly, showed some of the mettle of the men of the Line of Eld and rushed my Mia to the hospital after what appears to be another obstruction. I can't deny being grateful - she was considering going this morning, but instead elected to give in and go last night. 

It's better that she did this time, since unlike the last it appears to be an obstruction proper. Best they catch it early, or that at the least she's in the hospital so the doctors and ammies can take proper care of her in the event it doesn't clear in good time, do ye ken it? 

And once again, I'm in the holding pattern, unable to take the time away and wanting to all the same. 

Just once, tet-mates, I'd like to forget the face of my father and behave as a small child again, and just... throw a tantrum the lines of which haven't been seen since I was three years old. 

May we be well-met on the path.

#dark tower #gunslinger #cancer #Jay is frustrated

[all-serve-the-beam]

Minor Upsets

Hile and merry greet the day, tet-mates. 

The last visit to Gilead, for my Mia, was simply a minor upset - a bit of a block that was tended to quickly enough that nothing major went wry with her innards. 

A bit less than the span of a week and she was back home, albeit tired. My father, surprisingly, held together well this time. Mayhaps he's beginning to find some sort of strength in himself, some shade of the line of Eld that seems lacking in him but is manifest in myself and in my Mia. There'll be water if God wills it, as they say. 

As always, I'm open for palaver with anyone that desires it. 

May we be well-met on the path. 

#jay is grateful for small favors #dark tower #gunslinger #cancer

[all-serve-the-beam]

Once More

Would that the news were better, tet-mates. Once more I'm called during assignment to be told my Mia is being brought to hospital again. Once more I'm at the ready, ever-vigilant. More as I know it. May we be well-met on the path.

#dark tower #gunslinger #cancer #jay is ready for a battle

[all-serve-the-beam]

A Bright And Sunny Day

Hile and merry greet the day, Tet-Mates. 

My apologies for the lack of entries here and broken promises of updates. The past few months I've been run ragged with my duties - a Gunslinger's work is never done. 

My Mia is faring well - she's not been to the hospital since the last stint, she's made it through her chemotherapy schedule and is doing maintenance now, and is generally faring quite well and active. She does miss me though, since with my own duties calling me away so often I've not been able to see her as much. But we're to see each other this weekend which has me pleased. 

A little normalcy after so much is appreciated, since all the upheaval of those long, dark months. While we know the dark times will come again, all we do is pray for a long span in between them. 

May we be well-met on the path. 

#dark tower #gunslinger #cancer #jay is alive

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile, tet-mates, Apologies for the lags. An update later or on the morrow.

[all-serve-the-beam]

Hile and merry greet the day, tet-mates. It's been a long road, but I'm pleased to report that my Mia is doing well. It's been so touch and go that I found myself loathe to keep posting ups and downs, ups and downs until we had some sort of an assurance that we've a spell of peace ahead of us. This is my Mia. After all her touch and goes since November, after five doses of chemo out of the most recent schedule... Doing well, looking hale and healthy, and finally active and out enjoying the sun and spring of late summer in Mid-World. My kas-ka-Gan and I met her for lunch today, and she looked so well and bright that I wanted to share it with you all. I hope the good news was well-worth the long wait. May we be well-met on the path.

#gunslinger #the dark tower #cancer #jay's mia

[all-serve-the-beam]

//

#update tomorrow #jay's been distant of late

[all-serve-the-beam]

Higher and Higher We Climb

My Mia is home once again, after this latest stint and... 

... She's eating. 

That's right, tet-mates. My Mia is able to eat enough to sustain herself, of actual food. No more of the IV feedings, which made her feel lethargic and like she was indeed a sickperson. 

She has her ups and downs in mood, but I cannot blame her for these, none can. But overall, we seem to be on the up and up. 

I didn't see her too much this past stint in, due to my works, but I did spend a nice, long day with her towards the end of it with my kas-ka-Gan, who's been inspiring me towards the artistic. A Gunslinger who can put scribbles on a page and come out with art. I'd laugh but it's been a great relief. 

Mayhaps I'll post something here, someday. 

In any case, long days and pleasant nights, tet-mates. Things are on an upward trend. 

#Gunslinger #cancer #the dark tower #jay is hopeful