The hours and the times
Aug. 11th, 2005 09:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwynIt was a year ago today that my sister had her surgery, and we found out she had cancer. But the truth is, I kind of knew even before it happened. I'd already dealt with ovarian cancer when my mom had it, and when Sis_r told me that she'd had this lingering bronchitis that wouldn't go away, and the ovarian cyst had grown larger very quickly, I knew. Everyone told me that it was nothing, but I knew something was horribly wrong. What galled me, and still does, is that her lousy doctors didn't. And that she didn't push them -- people tell me it's okay to be angry with my sister for not pushing, but I'm not angry. It's more... devastating, in a way, to see the terrible denouement of a story you know is unfolding, and the protagonist isn't dealing with the reality of the story.
Last year, I had to fly out to Chicago for Vividcon the day after her surgery. I didn't want to go to the con; I wanted to go to San Diego and be with her because I had a feeling that things would not go well. But she was adamant that I not cancel my plans. She was the same way about Escapade in February, even when she was weeks away from dying. She didn't want to be a burden. But it was a burden anyway -- it was hard to have anything like a good time there, and much of it is very blurry, very painful. Leaning on the shoulders of the people who cared and wanted to support me, feeling strange and bad around the people who completely ignored what was happening because it's depressing. I had my cell phone with me all the time and set on vibrate, even though you're supposed to turn your phones off, just because everything was so dicey. It's hard to enjoy yourself with that hanging over your head.
And yet, though nothing is hanging except a few estate matters, I have no expectation of enjoying myself this year. The panic attacks are already starting, and everything seems connected to last year, this time of year... it's hard to separate. One day I got the news that she had cancer; six months later she was dead, and I still don't understand how I am supposed to live without my twin sister. I keep picking up the phone to call her about stupid stuff I need her advice on; everything feels empty and weird; and I just don't *get* it. I got a new cell phone and it doesn't have her number in the phone book, and that just feels wrong. Her number was the first number I always put in any speed dial.
Dates and times take on weird significance when you lose someone, in a way I hadn't expected. You want to ignore it, but you can't -- suddenly the date, the time of year, all of that stuff becomes strangely noticeable. Today is the day we got the death sentence, and much as I wish I could pretend it was another day, I can't. It will be a long time until I can.
Last year, I had to fly out to Chicago for Vividcon the day after her surgery. I didn't want to go to the con; I wanted to go to San Diego and be with her because I had a feeling that things would not go well. But she was adamant that I not cancel my plans. She was the same way about Escapade in February, even when she was weeks away from dying. She didn't want to be a burden. But it was a burden anyway -- it was hard to have anything like a good time there, and much of it is very blurry, very painful. Leaning on the shoulders of the people who cared and wanted to support me, feeling strange and bad around the people who completely ignored what was happening because it's depressing. I had my cell phone with me all the time and set on vibrate, even though you're supposed to turn your phones off, just because everything was so dicey. It's hard to enjoy yourself with that hanging over your head.
And yet, though nothing is hanging except a few estate matters, I have no expectation of enjoying myself this year. The panic attacks are already starting, and everything seems connected to last year, this time of year... it's hard to separate. One day I got the news that she had cancer; six months later she was dead, and I still don't understand how I am supposed to live without my twin sister. I keep picking up the phone to call her about stupid stuff I need her advice on; everything feels empty and weird; and I just don't *get* it. I got a new cell phone and it doesn't have her number in the phone book, and that just feels wrong. Her number was the first number I always put in any speed dial.
Dates and times take on weird significance when you lose someone, in a way I hadn't expected. You want to ignore it, but you can't -- suddenly the date, the time of year, all of that stuff becomes strangely noticeable. Today is the day we got the death sentence, and much as I wish I could pretend it was another day, I can't. It will be a long time until I can.
