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My eyes sting as I read a newspaper article describing the latest study to come out of a cancer conference, which involves a drug trial that Clark was too sick to participate in.

I slink off to the bathroom with my head down, ignoring my friends at the bar, when I catch a glimpse of his obituary, which hangs on the back of a door at the Black Cat, the bar where we met.

Cancer had eaten away at his hip, attacked his spinal cord, and created a blockage in his large intestine that necessitated a colostomy bag. Clark: i should make her a mix tape Now I live with my best friend, Cella.

We then chose to stop trying to wipe out his disease and focus only on treating his pain. Some days I go to send her a message, searching for her name and the colored dot that accompanies it.

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.

Clark: figure I’ll notice there first Me: you never know Clark: when are you leaving? Clark: k i love you Me: i will get gatorades and ensures. The treatment has a slim chance of success but it’s one of the only regimens approved specifically for melanoma by the FDA.

Patients are typically bedridden with dizzying flulike symptoms and are uncharacteristically irritable or moody. He had a high fever and soiled the bed again and again during his second IL-2 treatment.

I didn’t question how I found the strength to support his crumbling frame as we hobbled to the bathroom.I’ll try her even if she appears offline, because I need to tell her I’ll pick up coffee on the way home or ask if I can open the wine she left in the fridge. I move the cursor over it, and the thumbnail pops up with all of his information. To help personalise content, tailor and measure ads and provide a safer experience, we use cookies.In nearly every conversation, there is something that releases the pressure from my chest by forcing a giant laugh. Me: yes i had soup and chips but whatever someone else has smells delish Clark: k just as long as you ate something how do you spell Bodasifa? He was hospitalized from November 11–19 and again from December 1–6. Clark: oh baby do not say sorry Me: i really was just exhausted! Clark: I totally understand i know you were so tired and I know that you want to make sure I’m going to be okay and safe and really makes me want to cry Clark: i feel the same way about you I want to always want to make sure you are safe and warm and comfortable Clark: and I didn’t mean to yell but you are so stubborn Me: no i know haha SO ARE YOU, for the record Clark died two months later. I listened to “The Ocean” by Sunny Day Real Estate, the song he heard when he imagined me walking down the aisle at our wedding.On February 20, 2009, he had emergency surgery to remove a tumor the size of a baseball from his gut. I cried when Archers of Loaf, the one band Clark insisted make an appearance on any playlist, announced its reunion tour.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.

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