Monday, Monday: Can't Trust That Day

Not a good day at the Cowboy's house.

He woke up sick again, with his bucket, and feeling just horrible, he said.

Normally, he gets a good few hours in the afternoon, but not today. The membranes in his mouth are starting to go (a side effect is a mouth and throat full of sores; oh dear Lord I hope he doesn't get that now), and his soft palate and throat hurt too much to talk. He could hardly eat. He liked some hot tea I made him with lots of honey and cream.

But he couldn't even sit up much today. By mid afternoon, he was trying to sit with me, but he couldn't stay awake. Then he tried to sit on the porch and read, but he got worse and worse until he said he feels like he has the full blown flu, his throat is killing him, he is nauseated, and in pain all over.

So he just gave up and went to bed, no food, just water. Completely miserable.

We have rarely had a day this bad, but maybe we have.

I tried to interest him in some computer games, or watching TV, or just lying beside each other, holding hands, and being quiet. But he was too miserable for even those things. He just needed to leave reality, and that's what he's done. He's asleep, and I hope it's for the whole night.

I don't know if he can continue this. This is a thousand times worse than anything the cancer ever did to him. Whatever he decides, through prayer and consulting with his beloved fellow Christians at his beloved church, that's what he will do, and I will support him in anything.

I'm sorry we didn't have better news today. As our friend Anna B said, maybe this is his low point, and he will come up from here. Lord, hear that prayer.

Love and thankfulness to all of you for caring all this time. You are our wings.

Bethie and Poor Ole Bill