Confections For Cats

2-27-2014 The first entry into Mathew’s new journal is written my me….dictated by Mathew. Jack Kerouac supposedly vehemtly opposed to rewriting, he said “say what you mean the first time around.” I don’t agree with that but I imagine that these words will get added to the 1,000s of other words and my words too. yellow skin - yellow lips - bleeding gums; Mom relays my new color while I sit out on the porch of my Grents (Grandparents) trailer. I have been sick for several months now. Back in hospital room I nod out probably from the drugs which they have given me. Enough to make Hunter S Thompson proud. After I have been given morphine by a  smiling nurse if you remember your good Southern manners you’ll nod off a lot and not even realize it. A wise man who wants to stay away from the pain in the waking world will keep his eyes closed and mutter an incoherent “What?” A foolish man will wake up and answer with a question. Apparently I am both. White shit

Biopsy day Tuesday 2-26-14 In my ignorance, I thought, biopsy, a few days later diagnosis, then treatment starts and we keep moving until we are on the other end.  Besides frustration, my ignorance kept me fueled and pushing for those around us to get things done. I don't recall exactly, but I believe the biopsy was in the morning. Extra pain meds were ordered so Mathew could get through it. His level of pain was out of sight. As we learned what the cancer was doing inside of him, each problem it created, each organ it intruded on; each one, a source of great pain. Mathew's Dad and I went down with him to IR (Interventional Radiology). The biopsy was going to be taken through his back, close to his liver. To do that Mathew had to be on his stomach which was excruciating for him. Arpie and I were sent to a waiting room, we were the only ones there. After a while, the door opened. A man in scrubs with his face mask pulled down strode into the room and