We all know our ultimate fate in life. Thankfully, Jeannie's was peaceful and easy. Sunday she had a great day. Her pain was well controlled, she was talking and lucid. Her spirits were great. She talked with visitors. But later that night she began to weaken. As Monday moved along, it became very obvious that she was losing her strength and will to fight.
In our conversations we'd talked about slipping away in our own bed at home. When reality hit it was obvious that moving her back home would actually be a great disservice. Being jostled around wasn't a tolerable thing for her. Her liver had enlarged to the point it was crowding all her other organs. This slowly reduced her appetite to the point she ate nothing at all in her last few days.The hospice folks at Ohio Health were great. They were open to anything that would keep her comfortable. They have a dedicated hospice facility but didn't insist on her moving to it. She could have come home if that's what we had wanted. Or she could stay right where she was, which was the option I'd ending up selecting. They were flexible to the point of being willing to change anything at anytime. They worked diligently to control her pain and maintain her comfort.
When she was first diagnosed in 2013 I was devastated. I did my level best to keep that under wraps. But she was Stage 3b, with odds of 50-50 at best. Then after much hard work she was No Evidence of Disease, once referred to as remission. After my Stage 4 diagnosis at end of 2015, I was the one looking at the odds. Mine were only 10%. This was much much easier to take mentally. But the tables were turned and she was looking at a life without me. I never ever thought this vibrant, healthy woman would have been struck down so quickly and viciously by a recurrence.
Barely a month and a half ago we were in New England. Looking at us nobody in the world would have guessed we were stage 4 cancer patients. We looked healthier than most "healthy" people. We knew what was going on and were going to use the time remaining to travel around in our little RV. After she beautifully planned the New England run she went to work on a trip out west. It would have been an incredible 5 week vacation through the Dakotas, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Oregon and Washington. We would have spent a few days of that camped on the Oregon coast. We would be starting week two right now. It was not to be.
The job she did planning the trip out west was just one example of her ability to make life special. She could read voraciously and come up with all sorts of little life hacks that resulted in a wonderful lifestyle throughout our years together. Our years together were almost so nice as to defy description. We never fought. We might not always agree but we never raised our voices. Shouting, name calling and so forth weren't even a consideration. I consider myself the luckiest man in the world to have spent these years with her and will miss her throughout my own final days.
We decided a long time ago there'd be no showings, calling hours, or big church services. Maybe just some words in a memorial graveside sort of thing. Plans are coming together for just that in mid October. It will be the day before our anniversary. That may make me sound like a glutton for punishment. But I'm doing it for her knowing that she'd be pleased with how I'm handling it.
I don't know the future of this little blog. I don't know if there will be regular updates without her here. I know I'll take decent care of myself. Admittedly I won't be as scrupulous about it as I'd have been. But without her around, I really don't see myself going through any more of the hell they call chemo.
Peace and love to you all.
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