No time to think of a title

I’m off to party with my Vanier colleagues. Yaron arrived home just in time to break bread with his dad. I'm quite confident that Gilly will consume more than enough this evening. The winds of change always do the trick; new dinner companion, and Chinese food. I will enjoy my evening much more knowing that Gilly has the chance to spend some quality time with Yaron.

Today was no better than yesterday in terms of sight. It’s the unknown that is most disturbing in terms of the residual effects of radiation, and we won’t know for a few months. I know I personally would be punching walls by this time if I were in his situation, but he takes it all in stride, pretty much. I have never seen him exhibit such patience.

He feels so useless, not being able to do much of anything. He refuses to allow me to take over his jobs, hoping to tackle them himself. I offered to cut the grass today and trim the hedges along the side of the house so we could walk through the jungle more easily, but he flatly refused. He insisted on greasing the chain on my bike, even though he could barely hold the spray can steady and aim at the correct location. It's great that he continues to fight for his independence. His valiant struggles eat away at my peace of mind; I want to reach out and assist, but it is not in his best interest to do so. I could never turn my back, so I watch and care deeply. What else can I do?

I detected slightly more upward curves to the sides of Gilly’s mouth today. He smiled more easily, it seemed. He’s still holding visitors at bay; he says he cannot be with people when he can’t see a thing (an exaggeration of terms, but a good indication of the severity of the problem).

Sara from the CNR program at the Jewish called this morning to set Gilly's appointment for June 28th. Physiotherapy is finally within reach. Naomi, the social worker called to confirm that we were booked and asked if there was anything else she could do. She provided her vacation and return dates and wished us well. Again, I instinctively thanked her for her kindness. "Nobody asks for this sort of thing," she replied. I thought she meant for the service, but she clarified that she was referring to Gilly's situation. She made it clear that she intends to assist us in any way she can, and urged me to reach out whener I need something. We are surrounded by competent, caring professionals, for the most part, and for that I am thankful.

The good news is we finally got the permit to build that fence, courtesy of Auntie Ruthie. Next step; look for someone to put the posts in securely and get the fence built.

I was about to sign off when I heard footsteps. "You're still here?" he asked with a grin. He bent down to plant a kiss on my lips. Now I'm rejuvenated; so little means so much. I'm off to the party.