Denial. What a life-saving, yet sometimes damning mechanism. It’s amazing how denial works for us. I must spend at least 98% of my time in denial. I know denial exists to help us through the most traumatic of times, but it also stands in the way of acceptance, grieving and the ability to cope with reality on its own terms. Every once in awhile something or other will snap me out of this state of mind and I’m alway flabergasted at how distorted my thinking has been.

When Max was at his lowest point just over two months ago, I really didn’t see the stick legs and arms, the sunken cheeks, the dull eyes, until I forced myself to look more closely. I don’t think that was possible until Aaron introduced me to the Cellect/Budwig program and I had to pay close attention to Max’s condition to develop a baseline for contrasting any changes.  This showed me how potent and prevasive my denial can be and how I function often in a state detached from myself and reality. Scary picture.

Denial aside, this week has been another roller coaster ride. Max has been in quite a bit of pain and excessively tired, but he also went for a ride with me on Sunday for a couple hours, which is a first in quite some time. It almost felt normal to me and took me back to the time BC…before cancer. For once, Max didn’t complain about being in pain, even when we stopped at a small health foods market and he shopped, ate and sat around on a stone bench. Later, when we drove the coast, marveling at the sun drenched beach and the frothy waves, he seemed to be truly enjoying himself. And to top it all off, he weighed himself when we arrived home and he was 165 pounds. Almost 20 pounds more than he was two months ago. What a magnificent day. But today it’s back to the same old miserable grind. Sometimes two hours of happiness is all you can ask for, and I was able to turn that into a night a wishful thinking and peaceful sleep.

Who am I to complain?