Jelly is going to try to get into a clinical trial at the University of Colorados' Cancer Center in Aurora. They have what is being touted as a 'miracle' drug for Stage 4 cancer patients who qualify. It has, literally, cured a few patients already - one man is back to mountain climbing after undergoing the treatment, so...we're hoping he can not only get into the trial, but that it is as successful for him.
The Evil Twin and I both agree that while this might be a Good Thing, it, also, extends the period of time I'm being held hostage to his health care. Do I mind taking care of Jelly? Not really - he's a good friend, a close friend, and I love him as much as my black and bitter heart allows that sort of thing. I don't, however, love the idea of being a caregiver for years.. .and years... and years...
Caring for someone is exhausting, and you tend to forget to care about yourself. I lose sleep, I forget to take my own meds, I don't eat... I can't survive taking care of Jelly for much longer. As it is, my doc is sending me in for more tests, invasive tests, because my heart is misbehaving again, and he believes its due to a combination of stress, a poor diet, the hit-and-miss medications, and lack of sleep (he wants me to get eight hours a night... I NEVER sleep eight hours at a time unless I'm drugged... Hoo! Ha!).
So, even though I am glad that Jelly has a reason to feel a bit of hope, I'm a little ambivalent about this - I know how selfish it sounds, but, in a way, I just want this to be over and done with. I'd like to see him healed and able to take care of himself, but, if not, I'm not above hoping he goes face down in a bowl of chicken soup one day soon.
Good twin? Ain't got one...
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