Tomorrow

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow my life changes. Our life.

It seems weird that such a simple thing makes me feel lost and confused and uncertain. I mean, it's serious, but also not that serious at the same time.

Starting tomorrow Joe will receive all of his nutrients and calories through an IV. No more eating. Only clear liquids, and an occasional piece of gum to chew. I keep telling myself it isn't that big of a deal. I mean, his Crohn's is pretty bad. The colonoscopy 3 weeks back confirmed that. And really, he's got an awesome shot at getting this thing back into remission. So it's exciting really. There's hope. I haven't heard Joe sound this chipper about his health in almost a year, probably longer actually. It's really all good.

Except, for some reason, I feel really sad about it. Partially, I'm figuring, because food and eating is such a social (and comforting) thing for me. Just look at my expanding waistline for proof. Little things like getting a treat together, or making something that I know he really likes. That's gone now. And that makes me sad.

I don't love to cook. I've found I don't hate it either, tho there are plenty of days when I dread it. I mostly dread making the menus. But sometimes the cooking doesn't thrill me either. Sometimes it's fun and enjoyable. I'd say for the bulk of our marriage I've gotten meals made at least 4 or 5 days a week. Other days are leftovers, quick grabs, eating with family, or eating out. When my depression is raging I cook less.

I like to think I've gotten better tho. Especially since we moved into our own apartment again 4 months ago. Something has clicked a little deeper, and with Joe's busy schedule and his declining health, it's been a way, sometimes feeling like the only way, that I could fulfill my "wifely" duties, my homemaking responsibilities, that I'm ACTUALLY taking care of him. It probably sounds dumb, and doesn't exactly make sense, but I guess that's the best way of describing it. I feel like "making dinner" is the one thing I can do FOR Joe. We've even been eating super early, and I'm meaning 3:30, 4:30 at the latest, since November. It's allowed Joe to get his intestines to digest his food and be done with it before he's needed to be at rehearsals, performances, or just be more comfortable in general.

But yeah, like I said, tomorrow that all changes. He had his last "real" food about 2 hours ago. And it just makes me sad. He seems the most sad about messing with this routine we've gotten into of real family dinners. I'm sad because I can't cook for him anymore.

And I hate, I mean HATE cooking for just me. Cooking for 1 is so hard! Well, I guess there's 1 and a half to cook for. But it's not the same. Not that Brek doesn't count, but he still doesn't eat THAT much food. And for him, the more he gets to snack, the happier he seems. :)  Most of the meals I make serve a minimum of 4, usually closer to 6 or 8. We freeze some, Joe eats the leftovers for lunches for a day or 2, sometimes 3. I might eat a leftover portion once a week, if that. He consumes most of the food, albeit over several sittings.

I guess the current idea is to cook for a week, freeze the leftovers, and then repeat that week's menu the following week, but this time eat the leftovers. If I really sit down and think about it and plan it, it'd be nice to only cook 3 or 4 times a week, and have those nights alternating with the eating of frozen leftovers from the previous week's meals. I'm hoping I'll get to that sort of method sometime next week.

For now, I'm still trying to grasp what is really going on tomorrow, and how that is changing life. Don't even get me started about how I'm feeling about the IV port, because I already feel squeamish about trying to cuddle with him all hooked up, or the nightmare of keeping a toddler from getting tangled up and/or pulling on the IV, (because, let's face it, we know BOTH and MORE will happen with a 1-year-old around).

But tonight, it's just about the food. Maybe I should go find some chocolate... :)