September 3rd-NO LIMITS-Chapter20-Chris Ritchey

September 3, 2021 at 12:45 pm 2 comments

 

NO LIMITS

Forward: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/01/02/jan-3rd-no-limits-the-forward-chris-ritchey/

Chapter One :https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/02/03/feb-3rd-no-limits-chapter-1-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Two:https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/03/03/march-3rd-no-limits-

Chapter Three: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/04/03/april-3rd-no-limits-chapt-3-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Four: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/05/03/no-limits-chapter-4-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Five: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/06/03/june-3rd-no-limits-chapter-5-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Six: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/07/03/july-3rd-no-limits-chapter-6-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Seven: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/08/03/august-3rd-no-limits-chapter7-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Eight: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/09/03/sept-3rd-no-limits-chapter-8-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Nine: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2020/10/03/oct-3rd-no-limits-chapter-9-chris-ritchey/

Chapter Ten: NO LIMITS- Nov 3rd- Chapter 10- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Eleven: NO LIMITS-Dec. 3rd- Chris Ritchey- Chapter 11 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Twelve: NO LIMITS-Jan 3rd- Chris Ritchey- Chapter 12 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Thirteen : NO LIMITS- FEB 3rd- Chris Ritchey- Chapter 13 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Fourteen: March 3rd, NO LIMITS, Chapter 14- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Fifteen: April 3rd- No Limits- Chapter 15- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Sixteen: May 3rd – No Limits- Chapter 16- Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Seventeen: June 3rd-No Limits-Chris Ritchey-Chapter 17 | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Eighteen: July 3rd – NO LIMITS- Chapter 18-Chris Ritchey | That Woman’s Weblog (wordpress.com)

Chapter Nineteen: https://thatwoman.wordpress.com/2021/08/03/august-3rd-no-limits-chapter-19-chris-ritchey/

Houston Continued:

I have never felt so out of my  depth. All my  life I  have been decisive , could see my  way  to  a solution or know who  to  reach out to  in order to  find a solution. Yet here I  was in a strange city , scared to  death , totally  alone . having to  bury  my  fears, worried I would say  or do  something that would hurt my  son or take away  his thread of hope. I could not let him see my  doubts , my worries.

I would take my  phone  out to  the pool area and call Nikki , my  support , she would get me back on track but I really  could never even be totally  truthful with  her . A young mother with  a little baby , she too ,scared of the future without Chris.

Watching was the hardest part of those weeks in Houston, feeling so  damned inadequate. I had promised him the day  he was born that I  would never let any  harm come to him and I  would always protect him and here I  was totally  useless and not being able to  keep  that promise .

You  do  the deals  with  an unknown powerful being,

take me , let him be cured 

and knowing somehow you  are wasting your time, but you  feel  you  have to  try  anything to  save him. You  spend hours on the internet  researching looking for a glimmer of hope, knowing this  trial is the last chance. If I  had been told,

in order to  save him they  would need every  drop  of my  blood

I would have gladly  died for him. There was never any  choice given to  me.

It is a rollercoaster  ride, lost in a maze of emotions  abysmally  alone.  Despair finds you , weakens you takes you  to  regions of a self made hell

Depths of Despair – artwork Chris Ritchey

The keeping up  a positive face was probably  the most draining for him as well as me.  Chris was still filling out the report forms , everything noted as manageble. He never mentioned in the notes that every  night he couldn’t sleep  for the pain and would run the hottest of baths , sometimes 8 or 9 almost burning his skin to get some relief. He would surround himself with  hot water bottles filled with  boiling water. I pretended not to  notice  but it was hard when the electric kettle would disappear into  his bedroom and the the wet towels would be hung of the shower rail.

I would close the bathroom door and check  the bottles of pain pills  they  were going down at an alarming rate. It was so hard  and finally  I  understood Chris’ artwork to  describe the word HARD , it did truly feel to  me  that I  was rushing headlong into  an impenetrable hell , impossible to  pass through.  I would shake these premonitions as just down to  being  emotionally  exhausted.

Artwork Chris Ritchey— HARD

I so  wanted to  hold and cuddle my  son  as I  did when he was little. But he was a grown man and although  I  would get the occasional pat on the head as he would walk by I knew the last thing he needed was for me to show weakness.

Crying time was when he would go  to  the shooting range or to  Cabelas . I  knew I  would have a couple of hours to  myself . I would, on occasion, take one of his shirts and bury  my  face in the folds just to  be near him and let the tears flow, somehow in that act to  release the pain. I washed a lot of shirts doing that.

We did try normalcy  , some sightseeing but always I  was watching to  see how he was dealing with  the energy  being used  . I waited –  hoping the news would be good at the end of the trial and what he was putting himself through  would all be worth it.

Waiting , it seemed that is all I  had been doing for 13 months. Waiting in doctors and hospital waiting rooms. The chairs in those rooms , no  matter the hospital or city  or state, were clones of one another.

People watching , wondering what the story  was of the man waiting behind the frosted glass , he also  waiting  for good news or bad, feeling that connection with  someone who briefly  passed through  in a moment, never acknowledging  each other not  speaking – but connected.

Waiting whilst announcements were made and the sound of rubbers soles squeaking on tiled floors, the wheels of hospital carts as they rolled down hallways announcing more meds.  Waiting , not daring to  breathe as results from tests were coming and all the time wanting to  run away  far away  but knowing there was no  running from this obscene disease …..

if cancer had a face

to  be continued

 

Entry filed under: Doctor/Physician, grief, NO LIMITS the book. Tags: , , , , , , .

August 3rd- NO LIMITS- Chapter 19- Chris Ritchey October 3rd- No LIMITS-Chapter 21-Chris Ritchey

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