These lines are repeating themselves. Yesterday it was “I am dying, Egypt, dying.” The Admiral loved to make a kind of fun of the Aeneid (which as a boy in an English high school he read in Latin), with me as Dido and him as her solemn spouse. Quoting in ways to feel like semi-jokes, yet half-serious.
This morning “The time has been so short.” I have a hunch this comes from Margaret Edson’s Wit, which movie I have seen so many times, but I cannot find the line in the text this morning. Haven’t enough patience? It’s not there?
Last night the Admiral told me to google for Kubler-Ross and read the stages. He said he meant I was moving from anger to negotiating — as I talked of this or that procedure which might prolong life. But he also meant he’s into acceptance. Right now he says he wants to sleep. The medicine Wiltz ordered for nausea is helping and he is now taking the dilaudid.
I’m reading Joan Didion’s A Year of Magical Thinking (it is helping, I focus on it and listen) and keening on and off.