Hi everyone, it’s been awhile. As I write this update we enter April 27, 2024. My last update was written on March 9, 2024 which was 49 days or 7 weeks ago on the dot – just a smidgen off from a daily update as I originally intended. Though I haven’t written in such a long time, I want to assure you that I am still here and that I’ve continued to record Jenny’s progress every single day. Information is not lost but it has yet to be written. Though I am no longer capable of writing every day, I am learning to write again when I can.
Since October 1, 2023, until this very day, it has continued to be without a doubt the single most difficult era of my life and whatever the second most difficult is isn’t even in the same stratosphere. The more Jenny progresses in her recovery, in a cruel turn of reality, it adversely pushes me further towards my wits end as a human being. The following phrase has been said to me over and over again from many wise, informed and empathetic individuals but it never stuck with me because it’s one of those facets of life where you must go through it to truly understand it. Among the many phrases or words of advice I’ve received over these past few months, this is the only one that has echoed from their collective voices and it continues to echo more loudly everyday as I live on.
“The most difficult part is yet to come.”
Only now have I begun to understand why I had been told this exact line from so many different people. Though I have been with Jenny everyday watching her struggle to eat again, to sleep again, to walk again and to even see again, these are all instinctive by human nature and have a definitive goal.
However, there is another part of her recovery that does not have a definitive goal because this aspect of recovery has never been completely solved and it never will be. There is no end goal, there is only progress, or regress, and it is what separates us within the animal kingdom and allows us to proudly call ourselves something special – human.
“The most difficult part is yet to come.”
Of all the people that told me this exact phrase not a single one told me the answer to it. I find it surreal that I heard this line so many times and not once did someone tell me the next part to it. I believe I now understand why each of them did this and it invigorates me with a sense of nurtured humanity because it also means every single person knew that I was already on a journey to inevitably figure it out on my own. If they had told me the answer in the beginning perhaps I would not have fully understood. I finally understand now because I discovered the answer that pertains to Jenny and I.
The most difficult part is yet to come – because what I have been witnessing until now has been Jenny’s physical recovery. The most difficult part of Jenny’s recovery begins emerging sometime later in due process and it will directly affect you as her partner, her caregiver, her advocate and her only family in Canada. I will no longer simply be a witness to her recovery because I myself will be pulled into the turbulence of the most difficult part of Jenny’s recovery – Jenny’s mental recovery.
And that is why I have had so much difficulty continuing on writing everyday. When I first started this project in October, every time I wrote something I was sitting there beside her, in the hospital room with this laptop sitting in the dark typing away as Jenny lay beside me either sleeping or staring at the ceiling while kicking her legs involuntarily. This specific Jenny did not know who she was at that time, nor did she know who I was. Her mind and her brain were purely focused on survival. During that time, I was able to write freely as I was alone with my thoughts having my inspiration laying quietly beside me.
But that environment which allowed me to write freely has drastically changed day by day as Jenny continued to progress. As pieces of her came back, as she spoke her first words again, as she said my name again, as she began remembering who she was again, all of these important milestones also happened to be building blocks to the foundation of the first steps towards her journey of her mental recovery. This mental recovery is not a one person journey, because whether I’m ready or not, it forcibly takes me right alongside her.
I talk to Jenny now. She talks to me now. She talks to her friends. She talks to her family in the Philippines. But she is still not fully there. She sometimes asks weird questions, she sometimes says gibberish and she occasionally doesn’t understand basic concepts. She sometimes gets extremely sad off of seemingly nothing and she often gets very irritated or angry at things she rationally shouldn’t be. What you and I can simply connect to as Point A to Point B in our minds, she sometimes cannot. She sometimes yells at me with no reason. If I try to do something nice, she might see it as something offensive. If I do something this way instead of that way, she gets angry. If I cannot explain something exactly in a way she understands it, she gets sad. She was not always like this, but she is now and I am quickly learning that I have to constantly navigate everything trying to move forward in a place where I do not know if left is right or if up is down. And this drains me. It drains me a lot. Along with everything else I need to do, both Jenny focused and not, it collectively drains me beyond my limits.
And this is why I have not been able to write updates as often. Though I haven’t written in such a long time, I want to assure you I am still here. I have continued to record Jenny’s progress every single day. Information is not lost but it has yet to be written. Though I am no longer capable of writing every day, I am learning to write again when I can. There is so much more to write about and I cannot wait to write it all but as much as I want to, Jenny’s recovery will always my highest priority and more often than not, it takes all the time I have left to offer.