Yesterday was a very tough day for Handsome Husband. Its’ all a matter of perspective when you’re wandering through this No-Mans-Land of cancer and terminal illness. Having a good day carries a vastly different meaning than it would if he were healthy and vital. Now having a good day means he sleeps fairly comfortably and the pain levels are tolerable.
What happened to my husband? How did he disappear from my life so quickly? A mere month ago he was still himself physically. For the most part anyways. Yeah, he was coughing and in pain from what we thought was a pinched nerve, but he was still with me. Cancer wrecks the body. And it takes any other aches and pains of daily living and exacerbates them to horrible levels so that they become part of the cancer havoc. And, not unexpectedly, the focus quickly shifts from well person to person who is in a constant daily battle of comprehending the body’s betrayal, constant adjustment to that one less thing you’re able to do. Life becomes about your body and sustaining it in whatever capacity you’re able.
Handsome Husband is in quick decline. He isn’t transitioning yet, he isn’t actively dying. I think yesterday started it really. The pain got ahead of him, instead of him getting ahead of the pain. Breakthrough pain constantly needs to be addressed. And by personality, he digs his feet in and braces for it, standing against it, rather than treating it. Lesson learned yesterday, however. For him that entailed a mental shift too.
Tumors everywhere. Lymphedema rising up in his body, swelling his feet and legs so that they are no longer recognizable as the feet and legs that carried Handsome Husband on our many hikes. Swollen upper legs as the tumors grow. Liquid filling his body, racing towards his heart and lungs. Tumors filling both lungs, his chest. Fucking cancer is everywhere it can be. Handsome Husband is still aware enough, still alert enough, to realize what is happening to his body and the realization that he is powerless to either stop it or do anything to counteract it has to sit heavily on his mind.
Today, here in Palm Desert, California, the weather will be gorgeous again, I’ve no doubt. Sunny blue skies, maybe a soft breeze. Flowers are everywhere in every color. I don’t want my husband to die. It shreds my heart and soul to pieces that he is going to die. But, seeing what is happening to him as the cancer destroys his body, I can say that I want him to die, because he is suffering terribly in his body and mind and he deserves more than this.
Whatever Being is out there in the Universe, gods of the sea and sky, gods of the earth and all that is beautiful, gods of all the vast wonders that he and I have spent the last 4 years exploring-yes, you gods, you Beings. Do this. Take him. Relieve him of the suffering. Free his soul, free his spirit. End this agony. Let me have him back as he was, as we were. I know he’ll be physically gone from my life if you heed my plea. But that’s okay. I’m willing to trade his death to have his spirit back with me, as I know it will be. He’ll travel with me again in every way that matters.