The drug names come at me in a blur. Single meds, combinations, cocktails all swirl around with unpronounceable names. After a while I get lost. Perhaps they should just call it eye of newt and toe of frog. I look them up and try to understand the side effects and primary effects. I research companies with cutting edge treatments and try to follow them. I try to find emails of companies who have experimental drug trials . Do we qualify? How can I find them? What is the next step? What is the nmae of that treatment center? They have to be good, they adertise on TV.

It becomes an act of desperation to try and follow everything.

I was meditating to try and find some peace and solace. It isn't happening. Slowly I sink into it and it is so very relaxing. I send out thoughts of good health and cure to her. Does she receive it? Does she know? Is it all about me disguised as all about her?

I may never know, but will she?

Dinner was great, just the two of us. We talked and laughed like we were 22 again. Inevitably the talk turned to the inevitable. Now I guess it probably isn't good to listen to Joni Mitchell while I write but there it is. The chemos are not working. We celebrated three years which we both thought would never come, Order another cappucino martini. The wizard said, I need some time to think about this when confroted with the realization that things are not working. That stopped her dead in her tracks (pun intended).

"You know I never thought I would see three years." She said.

"Neither did I" I replied.

"But here we are."

"Yes we are", I said. I played with the fork and then my wine glass.

"It makes me sad." She was getting teary.

"What makes you sad?"

"To know I won't be around. I mean it doesn't make me cry or anything but it makes me sad.
I'm not ready."

"I'm not ready either."

"You'll be okay though. We planned it well enough. I have about 300,000 in insurance and you have about 150 in insurance on me and we have our investments. You should be able to pay off the house and live off what you make. It will be all right."

"I'll miss you." I said it.

"I'll miss you too.Molly will be allright, Lilli too. Sam's okay now."

"Yep. It will be okay, I'm just not ready."

"Me either." she said.

We left it at that. It is just too tough to face except in small dooses. This dose was enough.
So we filled the remaining time talking about the abstract thinking that our children show and whether the short rib cannaloni was really a cannaloni or just a filled pancake.

Wine finished, martini done, we walked out into the night. The air stung our cheeks and her hand felt so right in mine.