This is a history of our relationship that we didn’t intend to write, one that runs parallel to the one authored by his uncontainable illness. Me: yes more den anythin Clark: I see well, I’d say we have a problem because I love you your love might clash with my love, resulting into a shitstorm of unicorns, babies, puppy dogs, and couples ice skating it could get ugly Me: hahahahahahahhaha and tandem bikes I remember the pharmaceutical names of his medications—amitryptyline, Zoloft, methadone. It was winter 2008 and Clark was taking part in a trial, his second, at the National Institutes of Health.It’s only thanks to my archive of our Gchat conversations—me from my work computer, he from our apartment’s couch or his hospital bed—that I remember that we called gabapentin his “Guptas.” They were brown, like the skin of Dr. The Dilaudid pills he took for breakthrough pain were “hydros,” a nickname for the drug listed on the label, hydromorphone hydrochloride. Clark: man, my left leg is useless I really hope this chemo helps I can barely use it anymore Me: i know it will work. see you in like 45 minutes snoopy Clark: cause i can’t seem to think of when I can get a nap in BEFORE practice cause when you get home I just want to hang with you Me: yes, take a nap! It involved a drug called high-dose IL-2, which stimulates white blood cells to grow and divide in an attempt to overtake the cancer.
I trying to work through a major loss of over half of my pets that I had entrusted to a friend (also breeder of that species) for their care. This has brought on such a severe depression, its affecting my whole life. They were the only people that I trusted with the care of my babies.
I know it’s not uncommon for people my age to be away from their families during the holidays, but my mother, brother, sister, and I had never spent a Christmas apart.
Clark and I opened presents at his mother’s house that year. “There’ll be plenty of other Christmases,” she said. She told me this after he was gone, and it haunts me.
Clark and I met on the Thursday before Labor Day, August 30, 2007.
I don’t know exactly when we first said I love you, but the first email exchange containing the phrase, which he casually includes before signing off, is dated October 3 of that year.