Day 222--Comics Interruptus

After Torger's first chemo treatment last year, before he got too worn down, he spent a lot of time trying to organize the stuff in his studio because he was worried about me having to deal with it all if he died. Now, Torger still has a lot of stuff, but he really purged quite a bit at that time. He recycled stacks of papers and old magazines, gave away boxes of books, threw out a bunch of his old work that he didn't want to outlast him, etc. We ordered a set of sturdy plastic comic-book boxes to better store his much-loved collection, and actually made a will to dictate who would get what if he didn't make it. Then shortly after that, the chemo started to take its toll and he got too weak to do anything more, so his room has been sitting in that half-organized/half-chaotic-mess state for the past year. When we did our big dust purge earlier this year, we just tried to get the surfaces clean in that room and agreed he'd have to stay out of it until aspergillus was no longer as much of a concern. Well, even though he still can't be around dirt and soil and many other things, dust isn't as much of a worry now, so this weekend he started back on his room. He didn't plan to...he'd just started looking at some old comics, then started pushing a few boxes around, and then it snowballed from there. As he said, "It was all very organic." It's striking both of us as really weird to be picking up again on a project that's been sitting, untouched, for the past year, waiting to see if he would live. (He did!) I was planning to clean out our closet this weekend, but I've pretty much just been hanging out and watching him. It's exhausting! And there's still an awful lot of dust lurking there below the surfaces, so he's got to pace himself. With most activities these days, he's good for about two hours. He can do his radio show with Randy on Saturday nights, but after two hours, he's done. He can have dinner with our relatives, but after two hours, he poops out. So this project could continue for much of the summer, in two hour chunks. Which, of course, is just fine by me.