Category: Preeti

Cancer, Journal, Myself, Preeti

Robo Husband AKA Running Diary on Days 3,4,5,6

Sanjay Sabarwal
Cover of "Robocop"
Cover of Robocop

 

By Jemal Yarbrough

 

Today was one of her good days, and the old beautiful smile of hers returned as well as the desire to put something of substance in her stomach instead of my constant pleas to eat.  I also learned that the fear of the many horrors they told us about had not manifested yet, and I thanked God for the break in schedule.  Instead of a full week full of anxiety dreading the side effects, we got a small dosage of what was to come, and for that I am thankful.

I have much to learn that much I realize now and accept.  While a chance comment from one of her dear friends that I was a “robo husband” hurt my feelings for a second, the reality was that it hurt because it was true.  I am constantly struggling between being a caregiver rather than a caretaker.  I know for her what’s more important is not someone who can attend to all her physical needs but someone who can replenish her with love and care (a gentle reminder from another good friend of hers).

I am not going to lie, that’s exactly what I am scared of.  Between constantly wanting her to be comfortable and trying to provide her all the comforts of the world, I am worried I am not up to the task, that what I am doing is hollow and meaningless.  This is no longer someone who is sick, but my wife and we are going to spend the rest of our lives together.  What scares me is not knowing what will happen, and when the side effects will take form and then it hits me that I am again failing to be in the NOW.  I cannot control what she will go through nor can I stop the process.  And then it hits me that I have to be full myself before I can empty myself into her.  I need to do what makes me, ME or I will just remain a caretaker.

I know she knows that I love her deeply but the reality is I need to show it more than just feeding her medications at the right time or filling the fridge with her favorites.  I have to stop being robotic or worse just a caretaker.  I also see now that is how I am dealing with her pain, by compartmentalizing her into a schedule which does not allow for her to express her emotional pain and frustration.  I have to let her have the slice of pizza without the admonition to not put red peppers on it or take her medication as I scheduled.  I just have to let her be, let her get it out, whatever she is feeling because the cancer is not just physical, it’s also taken over her mind.  I cannot be a Robocop, not allowing her to go through all the motions she needs to in order to get a grasp of what has happened to her.

As I struggled with my guilt, I received a wonderful email from a stranger who encouraged me to go on, to keep on writing to figure out what we are going through and suddenly that one page email reminded me that I have all the tools to make her get through this and that is through friends, family but most importantly me (as self-important as that sounds).

And so a week ends, and we begin anew again tomorrow.  I think I know what I must do, and for now that is enough.

To the nameless friends and strangers who gave me the idea for this post: Thank You.

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Days 1 and 2: a running diary

Sanjay Sabarwal

I sit here after many days, tired from my mind incessantly shouting out different words to spin on to this space, but I resist not due to laziness or indifference but sheer exhaustion.   But I fought the urge for far too long so now I sit in front of this blank page of my life, snatching a few precious moments to spit while she battles the life saving drugs they have given her to move forward.  The irony is simple but deadly, you need to practically kill yourself to kill the killer inside.  In a way, she has to become a murderer of her body parts just so she can live.  The traitor must be punished and science has come a long way in battling “This Emperor of All Maladies” (ok so plugging the new book I am reading) but the treatment has victims, not just the one suffering but anyone the patient is close to.  I am so used to her smile but glimpses of that are becoming rarer.  The dreaded day finally came around when the campaign to save her began.  We were told 7 or 9 weeks, depending on which doctor we talked to.  So to be quite honest, we are not sure when the campaign will end but one thing was for certain: we had started.

Day 1 not much to report except, she walked in and by the time my mother in law and I sat down to get comfortable, she came out. Only 3 minutes of danger instead of 12 she reported.  Instead of coming out in a wheelchair, she walked out confidently, perplexed at our surprised faces.  Session 1 out of 28 completed in a mere 90 seconds.  The hope that perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad surging in our thoughts and prayers.

by Jemal Yarbrough

“You have such pretty hair” the nurse said, her accent thick from Asia and the smile slightly fake.  That made my girl smile, and I brightened up as well since any compliment made her flourish.

“Too bad, you’re going to lose it all.”  Our smiles froze, and I don’t think I could have hated a stranger so much so fast.  Welcome to Chemotherapy.  Where not only will we fill you with toxins, we will try to obliterate your self-esteem as well.  Although the word is scary and the side effects well-known, we weren’t prepared with the ease with which they pump the poison and chip away at the cancer.

After a mere 4.5 hours, she was ready to go home and starving.  Instead of the stereotypical nausea or vomiting, she was starving and ready to eat Chipotle and she did despite my misgivings (even though I was vastly relieved).

Almost 3 days now, I can say now with confidence that the only thing I am certain of is my fear and prayers that she get through this as painlessly and quickly as possible.  The sad reality is that in this quiet house we are in, just the two of us, I feel so utterly alone, I can hardly breathe.  The friends and family have been wonderful but as one of my best friends quite bluntly put it: it’s just the two of us, and whether we like it or not, we are in it for the long run.  Truth is, I am just scared and so is she.  I can’t even imagine her fear or pain, and I wish I could take it on.   But the battle has just begun, fear is just an emotion, something the mind just conjures.  Some may say its only Day 3 of 7 or 9 weeks, but to me we are already well on our way to get her getting better.  And in the end, that’s all that matters.

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Rain of Our Lives: A Blog Post

Sanjay Sabarwal
Cover of "The Power of Now: A Guide to Sp...
Cover via Amazon

As I drove past the car carcasses of many people on the freeway, it struck me that each of  those lives have been changed.  We often look from the outside in and barely register other people’s lives.  We constantly live in a life of “ME ME ME” while what happens to others is of no consequence or it seems.  Take for instance what happened to me on Saturday night.

After finally delaying for many days, I decided Blockbuster really does need its rentals of The Other Guys (not bad) and A-Team (great time pass) back.  So I hustled off telling Preeti it was imperative I return the movies (really because I wanted more to watch) and I would be back in an hour (no rental trip is complete with at least another chore tagged alone or then you really feel like a loser).  So I got into the car, fumbled around with the wipers (after all I am a full-blooded Southern Californian, rain is pretty much a foreign concept), and got them up to appropriate speed so I could see through. So far so good.

I first thought of doing the chore (but Trader Joe’s can wait), first let’s get the movies back ( I hope they got in Salt, I haven’t seen that).  As I got out my driveway, I put on the new songs I had synced to my iPod integration in-car (definitely proud of that gadget) and the first song turned out to the Shabad Kabeer from a CD my dad had compiled for guests and family members as we prayed together for a swift recovery for loved ones.

As the Shabad played, I turned my focus towards getting to the Promised Land of Rentals.  I got onto the ancillary street that took me to the main one, thought about stopping by Gurjit’s by decided against it (realized he was staying with my other cousin and if I took those two with me Blockbuster, that’s the only errand I would get done.)  I got to the main light, and stopped, waiting for Traffic Control to give me permission to make a left.   Since this was Cerritos, Ca, they are not big fans of free will and instead of letting drivers follow the rules they had learned in Driver’s Ed, I was required to wait until a green arrow pointed the way.  So I waited, glancing at the Taco Bell, realizing I haven’t eaten there in weeks.  Realized how much my brain was prattling along, took a deep breath and tried to still myself (something I had learned from The Power of Now by Elkhart Tolle).  The light turned green, and as I began to turn, a car hit me head on, which made me giggle (at the thought what more could wrong in my life and that for once Cerritos was right).

At first, I glanced up quickly to check the light (perhaps a bit guiltily, maybe I misread red to be green), but it was turning orange, as if to say “last chance to get through buddy!” The other guy (who happened to be a Domino’s delivery guy, Preeti’s favorite but not mine) had run the red light.  I knew that instinctively, he was speeding since his air bag had deployed.  I rushed out the car to check on him, while calling 911 (probably the only time multi-tasking is OK).  Moments later, a Sheriff’s car pulled up (lights blazing, yay Cavalry is here!), and asked what happened (no, are you ok? Is he ok?) while tersely telling us both to get out the intersection (God Forbid, we cause a scene or worse more traffic).  My car struggled to get me into the gas station, and as I kept giggling (really can anything more go wrong in 2010?), an old woman and her son (presumably) approached me, and said “we saw what happened.  Normally, it’s the guy who’s making the left that’s at issue but you had the green arrow (instinctively thinking of the DC comic book hero), and he ran a red light.  Those poor guys waited patiently for over an hour and a half to give their statement.  Total strangers who  could have driven by my carcass of a life, but instead chose to rain me with compassion and ethics.

To some, it may seem a car accident as just more bad luck for me, but as a dear friend said, it’s better to be lucky sometimes than good.

 

by Jemal Yarbrough
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Liar: A Blog Post

Sanjay Sabarwal

 

by Jemal Yarbrough

 

You lied to me” she accused me groggily, her eyes still heavy with the general anesthesia, dangerously pulling me to the brink of breaking down.  But the tears never made it to my eyes, I would not, could not let them.   All she saw was my smile, and the assurance that this phase was over.  What did the doctor say, she asked?  Babu, just rest and we can talk about it later.  Was not telling her a lie?  Yes it was, but it is a lie I will tell her over and over.  In this case, the truth would not set us free, the irony hitting me when I think about the friend I betrayed recently.  When is a lie ok, the right thing to do?  Now.  Always. When it involves her current fight with cancer.

The actions and emotion sof this week flutter around in my mind.  Words said, regrets swallowed, anger yelled, the many emotions of the body come up and I realize that we are just at the beginning of this very long road.  From a procedure that yielded one great hope, to getting hit by a guy running a red light, I realize life continues.  I cannot lie, I am scared yet in there is a voice growing stronger, saying we will get through this.  I know we can and we will. I can keep looking at the past, let the regrets pile up, the fear dominate my days, while watching her in pain and nausea or I can hold her, give her my strength, let her know, everything will be ok, no more lies, everything will be ok.  I will be a liar when needed but the there is only one truth: She will be fine.

 

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Save Me

Sanjay Sabarwal
by Jemal Yarbrough

Surrounded by books like You are What You Eat to What to Eat Before, During and After Cancer Treatment, it hits me that Cancer has given me a life I thought impossible.  Scattered on the bed are various notes and business cards from the dozens we have consulted in the medical field but still we do not and cannot know enough.  We are still ignorant as to what is about to come, and in some ways you could say in denial. Shoved aside to the side are the many Christmas presents we bought for our families and friends, but they lay ignored and unwrapped in another room, waiting perhaps for one of my relatives to take pity and finally put then in beautiful wrapping paper. It would appear from all of this that emptiness resides in our lives, but you would be dead wrong.

 

Along with the horrible, Cancer also gave me the improbable:  a wonderful wife.  I hadn’t dared to dream that the beautiful person who affected my life and soul would now be my life partner.  Strange, how the proliferation of some body cells can melt away 4 years of “hell no’s” and resistance to the idea of us getting married.  Funny, how I can be accepted into a household where my name couldn’t even be mentioned, and break bread.  You would think I would be filled with resentment or, worse, anger, but neither has a place in my heart.  I will not and cannot allow the past to corrupt my present and future.  As if by magic, I have allowed the cancer of peace and acceptance to fill our families rather than use it to destroy what’s left.  There is only room for love and forgiveness.  In a matter of days, we are going to be tied to each other for life, officially that is.  I had accepted her in my life a long time ago, something I wish I had told her a while ago.  I cannot bear the thought that she thinks it’s because of Cancer but only because it’s is true on the surface.  But she needs to know what I mean: Cancer gave me the courage to talk to her family.  I finally did what I have not been able to put my foot down and rightfully claim what’s mine.

 

There are some who would not see this as any victory, and some may even opine that now that’s sick her family agreed just to save face.  I would counter that even if that’s true, the victory is still mine.  I have her, and in the end that’s all that matters.  They say people come into your life for a reason or a season perhaps even to teach a lesson.  Preeti is all of the above, she makes the person I want to be, the person I see myself to be. I know the road ahead is potted with long hours, and perhaps fights and definite exhaustion but Cancer needs to know it has fucked with the wrong people.  It obviously doesn’t know her anger or my strength.  Together, we are unbeatable.  You have been warned, Cancer.

 

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Truth

Sanjay Sabarwal

I spent 20  minutes trying to copy an image that perfectly captures my feelings and in my quest to get that picture right, I lost sight that I needed to write.  There was a reason I am at an unholy hour on a Sunday night.  A need to get it out all out.  But the truth is, I am avoiding writing because this year will perhaps be the culmination of something I hadn’t dared to think about in years: Marriage.

In a way, I am already married, and the vision of being with the one I love for the rest of my life not at all daunting, in fact even exciting.  Yet I do not want to cross this path alone, and I do not want to do it in darkness.  No more hiding.  No more lying.  The truth will set us free, but more importantly allow us to live.

Lately, I have become superstitious that what my beautiful love is going through can be cleansed by the truth.  I no longer want to lie to anyone about anything.  Yes, to answer the ones wronged, I am trying to be AN ANGEL because I am willing to do whatever it takes to start a life partnership on a path of clarity, reality but best of all honesty.

It’s not easy as it looks.  Recently, I told a dear friend about her fiancée (who also happens to be a good friend of mine) who I felt cheated on her (a mere two weeks after he proposed to her) based on what he told me.  Yes, I broke the man rules because the truth is that I am not one of the boys, and I can no longer keep quiet on what is wrong.  As someone pointed out, as long as your know you will lose one friend, then go for it.  And I did, and the only thing I really have to show for it is that my conscience is clear, I am less one friend and discovering that the person I thought to be “saved” has decided to go back to the friend. So now I am less two friend, full of the feeling that determined people will hurt themselves no matter what anyone does, and perhaps nothing will change in life except me.

And then there is Preeti’s cousin who lives 15 miles away but has not bothered to call, or even stop by even though she’s fighting for her life and future.  Sure, he can go see his girlfriend but heaven forbid he actually check on a supposed close family member.  And then I caught myself.  I could do this all day long.  I could begin to stop talking to everyone that I think has done me or Preeti wrong but then there wouldn’t be many friends left.  The reality is, people are selfish, dishonest, indifferent but they also happen to be dearest to someone in our lives.  What do you do then?  Quit friends?  Quit life?  Quit the truth?  No, I realize.  You move on.  You forget.  The ones that mean something stick around, and the ones that do not, vanish.  The truth makes certain of that.

photo

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