What next?

It's no secret that COPD is a taker and a taker. Pictured is hubby taking his afternoon Nebulizer. He'd be angry at me for grabbing a shot through the stairs, but it is what it is.

COPD is pretty unforgiving. It takes everything from a person  and if there are other health issues, it makes it all the harder. [Generally there are always co-health issues to go along with severe COPD]

Most mornings he gets up and comes in the kitchen for coffee. I take his 02 readings right away. When he takes his CPAP off and gets dressed his 02 drops to the low 80's. Anything below 92% is dangerous. He has a hard head and won't hook himself up to his concentrator.

Below 92%, your brain starts to malfunction, as well as all of your organs. 

Then...we found a lump in his neck.

They did an ultrasound and then it was recommended that a needle biopsy be done. That needle biopsy turned up 'not enough' cells and samples to make a diagnosis.

Rich was against the ultra sound, I convinced him to do it. He was against the biopsy and he was not happy but did it.

Now the lump has swelled. It causes him no pain or difficulty in swallowing or breathing. But he is not a happy camper. He told me if we'd just left the d...ned thing alone he'd have been happy. 

The doctors recommend a removal of the 'nodule' and then send it for testing and he emphatically said....

NO.

I can't blame him, he has gone through so much in the past 8 years that it seems cruel to put him through anything more. 

In fact he is becoming more at peace with his future. Even as far as to make sure that I have what I need when he is no longer here. Odd to be making plans like that, but we are at that point. We actually set things up 12 years ago. That was 4 years before he was diagnosed with throat cancer.

The nodule could be benign but he doesn't even want to address that. 

So we meet each day as normally as we can and I take care of him and everything on the farm. Once he is done with the farm we will move off from it. Oh, I'd love to stay here in these beautiful hills forever but that won't be practical at all.

The fact is, he wants to stay here until he dies and then he wishes me to move on to live in a place where I don't have so much work to do. Our place was remodeled and it IS a solid low maintenance home. However, the remote location will make things like getting groceries, medical care, and help much harder as I age.

We've decided that I should move to an area where I have access to public transit and the ability to have groceries delivered if I needed that done. Location, location, location. Since I [we] have no relatives living in this area, I will move closer to my son. 

One of my new and younger neighbors has voiced her desire for me to stay. She said she would watch over me. In truth, I am not sure I'd want her to. She is now learning to deal with her own parents who are aging. She can't care for her parents, work full time, and raise her children...and then take on someone like me.

The plain truth of it all is that I am tired of being the adult all of the time. I once asked his daughter to give me relief. Her answer was no because she had to make sure her husband had his lunch packed for him daily.

Her children come to visit more often than she does. My grand daughter asked me last weekend if I didn't think it would be smart to leave the farm after Grandpa was gone. I would be too alone out here.

My son had voiced the very same thing. So had my other grand daughter who had come to visit a few weeks ago. 

What next? We actually have set a plan in motion. Well, at least an option.

Hubby and I agree, when he is gone, I will move back to the town where my oldest son lives. 

What Is Anticipatory Grief?

 Anticipatory Grief is something that can begin before the person you know has died. 

I realize now that the last nine years of my life I've assumed the role of a Caregiver. The first diagnosis of Stage IV throat cancer changed our lives. [Whoever has had cancer in a loved one or family member will know that the C word changes things forever] 

The event started a cascade of other health events that compounded on Rich's COPD. 

Now we live day to day with a routine of me doing the simple things for my husband that he cannot do. My routine has changed and his care is at the forefront of each of my days. 

At first I was frustrated and a bit angry because I never thought that I'd have to learn to do all the 'man' stuff that was always done by him. Over the years, I've taken on all of the duties around our small farm and it can be very taxing. 

Finally I've come to the realization nine years later, that I've gone nowhere and done nothing but give give and give more. Yes, it is common to feel that way as a Giver. It is also common for a Giver to feel guilty at those very same thoughts.

There are days I look outside and see myself on a camping trip I've longed for, or perhaps a Waterfalling trip...exploring the parks that my state has to offer. Wandering along wooded paths and exploring without a time clock. Reality bites and I am doing my next Giver thing. 

I'm luckier than some Givers. I can still get out for daily walks and sometimes fit in a nice hike at a park close by. 

But I daily grieve for the person I used to be married to. The energetic and sometimes pain in the butt guy. We did a lot of weekend traveling together to see other friends. We camped with our mules and rode parks. 

He fixed tires, maintained the mowers, tractors, skid steer, and did all the farm jobs. He was a force to be reckoned with.

Givers learn things. I learned to drive the skid steer, arrange for maintenance on them, fix fences and reroute them when the deer take them down or trees fall on them. I used to really go after it with gusto. But I'm growing tired of all of my extra duties.

The point is. Daily some small part of me grieves for the person I used to be married to. The one that gave out hugs all of the time. The one who was independent and vibrant. Not the person who sits quietly and stares out the window. I ask him, "What are you thinking?"  He blinks and finally looks at me and replies, "Don't know. Nothing."

I like to have a plan. I'm always thinking about the 'what if' scenario. Apparently, that is not the healthiest thing to do. However, that is the way my brain functions. 

IF this happens, what is my next step? 

Each day, I see a little less of the person I married. He moves slowly away as if he is fading. He is fading. 

Each day I grieve a bit more for the person I am losing. I know I am putting forth my best efforts but I can't change what is happening inside his body and brain. Some days I am angry that this happened and think IT is NOT fair! And then there is the guilt for thinking that terrible thought.

There is no cure for his diseases but a release of pain and suffering when the time does come.

And then I will grieve again. Not just for him, but for me who after years is suddenly out of a job. 

What will I do?

Will I feel whole or half?