Tuesday, January 18, 2011

D Day Minus 24: (February 13, 2010): Buying Time

I just used my PayPal account to buy another supplement so we can follow Bill Henderson’s Alternative Cancer Treatment.  The one Dad suggested we try after we went through all the crap on the Internet last night.

"Did you hear the email from the receipt?" I don't want to wake you. It's been a rough night -- for both us. I'll try to mute it. But, I always screw it up. I think I got. Let's hope.

Don't move!

Please sleep!

I'll be quiet. I know it’s 5:00 AM CST.  Houston time. MD Anderson time. Cancer time.

The receipt is on top of my inbox -- just a few emails below the one we wrote together. The one from last night.  The one I helped you write while we cried. The one that you cc'd me on, so I'd have it. The one to a friend of friend, the melanoma cancer doctor at the National Institutes of Health.

We'll fight. Promise! I'll go down with my boots. Right with you. Just like you told the doctors today, after they said: "Give up. Go to hospice. Get your affairs in order."

I won't leave you. I PROMISE. I promise. i promise. I won't leave a man down. NEVER. Ever. ever. Especially, my little boy.  My silly curly red-headed little boy.

"What's that? Are you waking up?"

You're just getting comfortable. I'm glad. You need your rest. 

Just sleep.  Please just sleep! Just so you can heal. THAT'S ALL. That's all. that's all.

The heater in this hotel room is loud and klunky. But that is good, so you can't hear me. Really, I am trying to be quiet. I just need to buy stuff on the Interent.  Not fun stuff. Or stupid stuff for me.  Not this time. It isn't a stupid face cream, shoes, books, or anything. It's all for you. I'm not buying any of that junk. I'm trying to buy time. Not a watch, a clock, or some time-saving device. I'm trying buy real time.  I'm trying to buy time for you, for me, for Dad, For Morgan, for Katie, and for everyone we know.

"Is the light from my computer too bright?" I can't see the list of supplements. It's hard to see. Tears are blurring my vision.  I have to get it right.  I have to get the right supplements from the right place and they have to get to the right address. They have to get to Sterling as soon as possible. This is no joke. I'm not kidding.  I'm buying time.

I think I got everything. But I have to check. So I'm Rainmanning now. But it's a good thing, because I'm trying to buy time.

I think that was the last one.  Maybe I can sleep. Maybe not. 

After this I won't buy anything. I won’t buy anything else.  And if I do, then I’ll mute the speakers and dim the light some more on my computer.  I promise.  Besides I already bought every alternative cancer treatment book I could and had it downloaded to my Kindle.  I'd do whatever it takes to buy time. And I know you would too.

And yes, I’ll read the books to you—later today. All of them. As much or as little as you want. I won't read them fast like I usually do because I don't have time. I'll read to you however you want. I'm buying time.

But now I’ll just lie back down on the fold-out couch.  And meditate with Kelly Howell. And imagine my magic powers becoming yours. And poof, we’ll wake up and the nightmare will be over. Really! It will. Then we’ll go to McDonald’s for breakfast. You’ll say, “You buying?”

Yes, I know McDonald’s is two blocks down, but I don’t want to leave.  I’m kind of hungry, but it doesn’t matter. And I don’t want to wake you.  Because neither one of us slept. You couldn’t get comfortable because you’re so skinny and the cancer is squishing your insides. I had  another kind of pain—helplessness and loneliness.  Is there a pill for that?  If there is then, I’m buying.  And I'm sharing it with you. 

I want to run like Forest Gump right out of this hotel room, through the lobby, all the way to Hawaii on the bridge or tunnel—with you by my side.  Look my shoes are ready.  I just need to slip them on.  I won’t cry like I did last night doing Kempo X.  I won’t ever cry again.  I promise. I’ll quit beating myself up for—everything.  I’ll buy you house.  I’ll mow your lawn. I’ll watch your kids.

Please get up and run with me.  It will be okay, if you get up now. If you get up and run with me.

You have to do it now. Now!  We’ll forget this ever happened.

"Greg, do you want to make a run for it?"

I know you’re tired. Come on. I’ll even buy you new shoes.

"Will you get up?"

I’ll buy you more Pumas.  I’ll buy you all the Pumas.

I’m laying down. Trying to be quiet. You need your rest.  But did I do it? Did I? Did I to slow down time so I could buy time. I think I did. I'm sorry.  I don't want you to hurt anymore.

"Did you hear that?" That was another receipt for another supplement. BECAUSE. Because. because. I'm buying time.

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