The first night I was in Miami I jokingly said to my roommate Amber that I was going to get up early to take a picture of the sunrise. As much as I wanted to see the sun come up, I was never going to actually set my alarm to wake up at the west coast equivalent of 3:30 am, especially the night after a redeye. I slept right through that sunrise.
The following morning, however, my well-documented insomnia kept me up for most of the night. I eventually gave up trying to sleep and headed down to the beach.
I sat on the sand, and as the waves lapped the shore I finally had my April Emotional Breakdown. April is such a crappy month, but for most of it, I felt extremely numb. As much as I hate April, I didn’t want it to end.
At the beginning of February, Jackie! found out that her tumor was growing again. She was on her “worst case scenario” treatment, and it had stopped working. Her doctor gave her three to four months.
She enrolled in a phase one clinical trial that proved to be incredibly brutal, and she withdrew after two rounds. She’s now on another drug, and every night I squeeze my eyes closed and wish with all my might that it will slow the growth and give Jackie! more time.
But I am realistic. And powerless.
She’s made it to the three month mark that her doctor first presented. I’m scared and I wish I could slow down time so she can continue to enjoy this patch of relative goodness she’s been experiencing. I wish I could speed up the time of everyone around her, so she can witness everything she’s supposed to see and do everything she dreamed of doing. I wish I could go back in time and go to med school and figure out a way to fix her.
But I am still powerless.
I sat on the sand and watched the sun light up the sky and my face. Later that day I got on a plane and I followed that sun to San Francisco.
I landed after it set.