The Long Kiss Goodbye

My husband was a great kisser. Just the right amount of passion mixed in with the love. I didn't think a kiss would be what I would miss the most, but it is. Over the past 6 months or so, I kissed my husband alot. Every chance I got, I laid one on him. He responded with his suave kiss most of the time but sometimes I wouldn't get anything. In those times I would make him kiss me again after saying to him, "you call that a kiss?". That would usually get the response I would want.

I did the final act of love for him on Wednesday. Carried out his wishes as best as I could. It was difficult since he never told me exactly what he wanted. He trusted me to do what was tasteful in the end I think. It was a nice service. Simple yet just enough of a personal twist that everyone knew what kind of man he was. It was the end of a long and difficult journey for us. Nothing ever came easy since his illness reared it's ugly head back in 2003. If there was a side effect for anything, John was going to have it. Typical. He always did things the hard way. His fight for independence in the beginning made things even more difficult. He lost that spunk this time around and I knew that time wasn't on his side anymore. He knew it as well.

I found out that he had called around and made amends to some of his past indiscretions. That's good. Perhaps that made him rest easier somehow. It has touched me deep down to know that he became the man he should have been his whole life. My husband realized too late what was important in life but he tried to go back and pick up the pieces of the things he shattered along the way. He found out that in the end, family is what matters most. He made amends with his ex-wife and with some of his children. Other of his children wouldn't talk with him and that took a toll on him. It was important to him that she at least hear his apology. And apparently, she did.

I told his daughter (my step daughter) that I knew I was blessed. I had the better part of John. He was older and more mature when we met. He had done all those things and had made all of his mistakes early in life. Fortunately for me, he learned from most of his mistakes. He took time to help raise our children, his older kids didn't have that luxury. He spent quality time with me and was even able to put off work for small periods of time in order to spend time with me. I know I got the best part of John. I was blessed in that way. He was a good man with a big heart. He made mistakes along the way but was able to pull it out in the end. Set his heart at peace and his mind at ease.

It still doesn't seem right that he's gone. It doesn't seem real to me yet. I miss him with everything in me. I keep hearing that he really loved me alot and that I made a difference in his life beyond what I ever thought. It's nice to hear that I had that affect on someone that I actually thought the world of. He actually changed pieces of me as time went by. He saved me from myself. And I will always be grateful. Our lives were full of laughter, love and joy. We made love, not just had sex. He was good to me in many ways. I thought the sun rose & set on him and come to find out, he felt the same way about me. It's a good feeling that after a 25 year relationship, he still wanted me and only me. It's nice to have been a wanted woman. I miss that and I don't know if I will find that again. I know I'll never meet another man like him. He was one of a kind. My life is a little less bright without him.

I must find a way to move forward. I will get there. It will take lots of time.

I'd trade my life for just one of his kisses and the touch of his hand.

It's over but I have a lifetime of memories to fall back on. But they're not the same as having him here in the flesh. I miss him terribly and my heart aches for his voice and his embrace. I have to settle for DVD's for the voice now. His embrace I will only experience in my dreams. It's going to be a long rest of my life.

One More to Go

Well, it's just about over. This has been a long week. I'm tired. My appetite has returned somewhat. Which can be good or not.

We have 1 more step to take in order to start our healing journey path. The funeral. The word funeral even sounds so final, doesn't it? It does to me at least. It's probably the least palatable part of this whole thing. But it's a necessary evil. No one is going to live forever.

We got through the "wake" or viewing, depending on which side of the family you reside. It was done well and tasteful. My husband looked good. That's odd too since he's no longer living. But I've not seen him look that good in a long time. I had forgotten that he looked that good. It shocked me to feel how much I longed for that John. The undertaker did such a good job that he looked like he did about 10 years ago. WOW! I was pleased to say the least. The sisters won't be upset or have MUCH to complain about. Death always brings out the worst in folks. It's not been too bad this time around but we've not gotten through the funeral either.

I decided to do a celebration of his life during this time because my husband loved life. He loved to laugh and to joke around and I wanted the folks that were there that didn't know that side of my husband to experience the John that I fell in love with all those years ago. The silly things he would do and the fun that we had. It was pure and beautiful. You never see it until you look back over those old VHS tapes that have been tucked away beneath the entertainment center. I pulled those old things out and found a treasure trove of memories. Times that I had almost forgotten about. Life becomes so busy and filled with things that don't mean a hill of beans that we sometimes forget that the people we love aren't going to be here always. I think John would have liked it. It showed his human side, his loving and compassionate side and his silly side. I wanted to take an hour to remember the real John. The John that made us all laugh and forget that life could be hectic at times. There were many people there that only knew the John that was stuck in that stupid wheelchair and I wanted them to experience all the things that made my husband who he was.

It was great! I saw lots of friends that I hadn't seen in a long time. I saw lots of his family that I haven't seen for awhile either. There was laughter and talking and smiles all around. I wanted to take an hour and lighten the mood if only for that moment. The heaviness of this situation can sometimes just put a cloud over folks' heads. So why not remember who they were. I think my husband would have been pleased.

My heart is broken, but my spirit is strong.

I'll love him forever.

The Long Journey Home

The past 6 years seemed to have lasted for 10 at times. The never ending list of things to do and places to be. My days were filled from time I woke up until the time I laid back down at night. Especially in the last 9 months.

Now, only 3 days after my husband took his last breath, I sit in our home with his family, friends, and church members and wonder, "what am I supposed to do now?" I haven't had free time like this in over 6 years and I can't figure out what to do with it. I've made most of the arrangements for the funeral services and the cemetery stuff has been finished, so what happens now? How do I pick up and "move forward"?

I spent 25 years with this man. 18 wonderfully happy years prior to his illness and 7 attached to some type of appointment, illness, and hospital visit. The frustration levels were off the charts most of the times. I would long for the previous 18 years, even the bad ones whenever a particularly difficult time would be hounding us.

Our age difference often startled people when they found out. We saw so many of the "deer in the headlight" looks when we told of the 25 year spread between us. But until my husband fell ill, that gap never hindered our relationship. He never missed a step until 2003. 2 months after our marriage, he collapsed at work. Things were never the same after that. There were times of anger, frustration, sadness and poor health. He fought so hard and so long only to be defeated in the end. It wasn't a fair war by any means. Diabetes has so many advantages over us, the mere mortal. It never ceases to ravage, it doesn't need to sleep, doesn't require food and pretty much constantly goes on the attack, leaving a wide path of destruction in it's wake. What human can top that?

The blessing - He's no longer suffering.

The bad part - I miss him and want to hold him one more time.

Spend as much time with your loved ones, tell them how much they mean to you and how deep your love is. I did that constantly over the last 6 months and I don't have to ask myself, "did he know you loved him?" I know he did.

All Things Must Come...

to an end.

It is with a heavy heart and relieved mind (sort of) that I type this. My husband, after fighting for over 6 years, has lost the war with diabetes. It was time. He couldn't fight anymore. His body just couldn't take it any longer. He was a shell of the person he used to be and it was sad to see him deteriorate to such levels, both physically and mentally. Sometimes the looks on his face were just too heartbreaking! I knew he was suffering at this point and there was only so much I could do.

I did, however, fulfill the promise that I made to him years ago when he first fell ill. I promised him that I wouldn't allow him to die in a nursing home surrounded by strangers and that I would be by his side when he would draw his last breath. I remember I reminded him of this promise not that long ago and he said, "you will do that for me?" "Of course", I said. It happened just like we wanted.

I had taken him to his appointment on this past Monday with the vascular surgeon to look at the foot with the unhealing pressure sore. That doctor told us he'd have to amputate his lower, left leg from above the knee. I knew that was the blow that would take him out. I saw what little fight John had left at that point just take wings and fly. I didn't want to think it was coming so soon. He had pretty much stopped eating meals at this point and we were relying on the tube feedings for his nutritional needs.

He went to dialysis on Tuesday, just as he did every Tuesday for the last 6 years and returned home with the dreaded sound of a dying patient. It's known as the "death rattle". A sound that once you hear it, you'll never forget it and you'll always recognize it when you hear it again. I knew in my heart it was over. He struggled to breathe and he was having constant diarrhea and then the vomiting started and it was just a dark brown liquid. I knew then he didn't have much time. The Lord was purging John's system and getting him ready for his new, glorious home and body. You can't enter into heaven unclean. (At least that's how I view sort of.)

He lasted until Wednesday morning at about 5:30am. I didn't sleep a wink Tuesday night because I knew it was coming. After tossing and turning on the sofa all evening, I got up at 5am and headed toward our bedroom. I turned on the overhead light and called his name. "John". His eyes flew open but they weren't seeing very much. I then said, "I'm going to take a shower and then I'll check your sugar level and then we'll get ready for your appointment". He was scheduled for that amputation at 10am, 7/22 at a local hospital. I took my shower and 10 minutes later I was at his side. He was gasping for breath at this point. Moving his head to help get in as much air as he could. I took his hand and said, "John, you don't have to fight any longer. It's ok Baby. Jesus is waiting for you. Go ahead and run to the light. Derrick (our son) and your mother are there as well. I'll be ok." {Gasp} I called his name because I wasn't quite finished. I said, "John, take another breath". He did. {Gasp}. I said, "I love you and I'll see you when I get there." I kissed him on the forehead and he slumped over. I listened for his breathing. Silence. I got my stethoscope and listened to his chest. Again, silence. I called 911, told them my husband had passed and I had a DNR (do not resuscitate) order. They sent the paramedics to pronounce him. Official time of death.....05:49am EST.

That was it. After 6 long years, the war had ended. My husband was no longer suffering. No fanfare. No thunder. No drum rolls. Just peace. Love and compassion. I had to let him go. I couldn't watch it any longer. It was starting to make me ill to see him struggle in his weakened state. He did the best he could for as long as he could. I'm so proud to have called him husband. He was a good man.

I will continue this blog until we lay him to rest and perhaps afterwards for a little longer. I'm sure I will miss the constant need to do something for him. I hope that I made some kind of difference in the end. I hope I made it easier for him somehow. The relief for both of us was instantaneous. I loved him with all my heart and soul and it meant a lot to me to have him home with us in the end. I know that's what he wanted. I wouldn't trade these last few months for any amount of money on this earth. There were moments that belonged to just us. I needed it, John needed it. I apologized for any stupid remarks I had made over the last 6 years, for my attitude at times and for just the fact that he didn't feel well for most of that 6 years. He tried to be the trooper but he wasn't going to lose his leg. I knew it and so did he. And that was ok.

And so there goes the circle of life my friends. John and I had 25 years together. Happiness, sadness, joy, love, laughter and tears. Those make for a great hodgepodge of a relationship. He taught me a lot of life's lessons in these past 6 years. It was a humbling experience. The bumps along way only served to make us stronger and bring us closer together. I will forever miss him.

In memory of my husband, John W. Freeman, 2/3/1939 - 7/22/09. A life well lived.

I love you John,

Always your keeper.

Just when

you thought things couldn't get any worse, somehow they always do.

My husband had a doctors appointment today that went, well let's just say, less than stellar. It seems that no matter how much you THINK you're prepared, you never are.

The day started typical. Got up and got ready for work, the aide showed up promptly and started getting him ready for the day. He ate a little bit and they arrived at the appointment about an hour ahead of schedule. The Handi-ride is just awesome! I joined them at about 11am and into the office we went. They actually called us in as soon as I got there(which almost never happens in this particular physician's office).

45 minutes later, the doctor joins us. (That's more like it.) He proceeds to ask about 50 questions ( I exaggerate of course). He then unwraps the foot and pokes and prods within the wound. He then asks me some more questions about my husband's mobility and how long has it been since he's ambulated (walked to those of you without a medical terminology class). I said about a year. He then looks me in the eye and says, "Well, it looks as if.....", "Ummm, I think we're gonna have to....", (clears his throat..apparently he has allergies which is no big surprise for folks in this area), "it appears that we'll have to....". Finally, I said...just say it Doc. He says, "we're going to have to amputate". I BEG YOUR PARDON? Did you just say amputate?

My brain immediately did a tailspin and everything else sounded like this..."waaah waah waaah...waah...waaah...waaaaah (think of the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons). "It's in his best interest", he said. "The 'limb' (in this case his foot..funny when you talk about amputating something, it becomes a "limb" not a leg or a foot), is only going to serve to make him sicker at this point", he says. BUT...BUT...WAIT...BUT can't you pull a trick out of a hat or out of your butt or out of my butt or out of John's butt or something? I told him this, "I thought you could be a miracle worker Doc." He chuckled and said, "I left my miracle worker clothes at home today". I, then laughed and said, "darn it then". I made him tell John. Did he understand? I don't know. I think he knows. But he's unable or unwilling to react. I believe John's fight has left him. It occurred in 2005, June 21, 2005 to be exact. That's the day we lost our baby boy. It changed everything on every level. But especially for John. Stuck at home with no place to go except up the wall. He got out t0 go to dialysis and that's it. At every corner, our loss smacked him in the face day after day and he just couldn't get past it very well. He tried but it was a great mountain to climb. The fight has been in my hands since then. I've done everything I know to do. I've got nothing left. The foot is bad. The blood supply is little to none and dwindling. I know, medically, the answer is to amputate. But my heart is broken for him. My John wouldn't want this and would promptly tell me to "let me die". I can't do that. The Bible says, "I set before you, life and death, always choose life" or something close to that. My fight only goes so far for someone else. I feel sad, overwhelmed, and like the ultimate traitor to my husband. I know he wouldn't want this, but he can't make that decision now. So I signed the consent. It will be done 2 days from now. July 22. They will amputate from just above the knee of his left leg. Another day of reckoning. Will he be strong enough mentally or emotionally? I don't know. Will I? I hope so. We have God on our side and I know that whatever happens, God's perfect will shall be done. It's one more step, one more thing that he has to endure.

I will pray. I will love John...but sometimes love doesn't conquer all. Diabetes is relentless. It's destructiveness knows no end nor does it show any mercy. It can out last my reserve. We're losing the battles, but the war is not yet lost. But I know that in the end, the war is not mine to fight or to win or lose. That's between God and John.

Pray for us. I'll update on Wednesday after the surgery.

Twas the Night Before

a doctor's appointment and all thru the house the creatures were all astirring and not quiet as a mouse. Ha ha!

My husband has an appointment tomorrow with a vascular doctor to have a look at that pesty wound on his left heel. I hope that it will be good news and that he will tell us that there is plenty we can do to save his foot. I don't think it's to the stage of where we may be discussing amputation YET but I feel the slippery slope is around the next bend.

I've scheduled transportation with the city transit authority, better known as Hampton Roads Transit or HRT. It will be his first trip on their Handi-Ride bus. His aide will accompany him (at no charge tyvm!). It will cost $6 for the trip but it will be well worth it if all goes well. I purchased a book of tickets last week. $30 will get you 5 to & from trips. Not bad if there's little to no hassle and they're on time.

Wish us luck and pray for him and the doctor as we will finally get a "bigger picture"view of this wound. I hope we've done enough to ensure he doesn't lose the foot anytime soon.

In my next post I will be sharing with everyone some of the tools of this remarkable journey with pictures of the various medical equipment that's overtaking our home. I feel like a doctor without a hospital sometimes.

You're FIRED!

Yep. That's right! I fired my husband's primary care physician today. He(the doctor), however, doesn't know it yet. I haven't told him. But I've had it up to here (holding hand at nose level) with him!

As you know from the previous posts, my husband has pressure sores on his feet from being in the hospital and rehab facility. We're working hard to get them under control! It's tough! And it's tougher when the physician doesn't seem to want to help.

The wound nurse, his aide, and myself are pretty sure the wound on his foot is infected (again). The drainage has practically doubled over the last few days and it has an odor (different from the usual...ahem...male odors). The wound nurse has called the primary care doctor's office at least 5 times in the last 3 days and she's faxed her notes about her concern at least 2 times. She's heard nothing from his office! NOTHING! I tried to call them today and the line was busy the first time and then they were closed because they only work a half day on Wednesdays. Well that sent me over the edge. This isn't the first time we've had this problem with him since John's level of care has changed. So enough is enough! So I've made him an appointment with a doctor that works closely with the home health agency that employs his aide. He makes house calls! YES...I said HOUSE CALLS! I'm practically giddy just thinking of it. No more scheduling rides that won't show up! No more walking 5 miles to the doctor's office because the ride didn't show up! Hallelujah! His office will be calling to let me know when he's coming out for his initial visit and hopefully it won't be too painful (for me that is). I have a tendency to look at things with my spiritual eyes and doctors like you to look with the flesh eyes in my head. What do they know? They can only treat the wound....my God heals it! So take that Mr. MD!

I'll let yall know how the new doctor reacts to John and vice versa in a few days.

p.s. The aide says he's fine and young! That's just icing on the cake for us! A doctor whose easy on the eyes can never cause things to be worse...right?

Hanging in There

This is the standard answer I use when asked by others, "How's your husband?". It's easier and it doesn't take up a lot of their time or mine. People accept it with a smile. If I told them how he is REALLY doing...not so much smiling I'm sure. It's a day to day thing, sometimes it's hour by hour and minute by minute. We're defeating the silent enemy by way of diligence in hygiene and constantly turning him from side to side. The wound looks a lot better IMO.

Not much to report believe it or not. Things have been quiet for the most part. His cough has calmed, he's not eating particularly well, but that tube feeding is sustaining him. He's lost 0 pounds. That stuff has 475 calories per 8 ounce serving, he gets 4 cans per night. Almost 2000 calories per feeding! Who can lose weight like that? NOBODY! Yay!

He has 2 doctor's appointments coming up, I'm sure I'll have lots to share at that time. One is with a vascular doctor to see if we can do anything else in the battle of the bedsores. Just to make sure says the primary care doc. The other is for permanent placement of his dialysis access. NOT fun! Outpatient surgery if all goes well he'll come home afterwards. He won't like it. He's fought against putting the access into his arm for about 2 years now...but it's my decision to make and I think it's in his best interest. Minimizes the risks of infection greatly. Do it! He may curse me out afterwards..but I can take it!

Stay tuned for the skinny over the next few weeks.

The Silent Enemy

There's always something to be on the lookout for when taking care of a loved one. Blood sugar roller coaster, blood pressure checks, doctor's appointments, interviews for transportation providers outside of dialysis, dialysis treatments, meals, dirty diapers, dirty laundry, etc. It's a never ending barrage.

There is one thing that can undo the confidence of a seasoned caretaker. The dreaded "bed sore". My husband came home with 5 bed sores or pressure sores as they are called nowadays. 2 on his left heel, a few on his right foot and 1 on his coccyx (better known as tailbone). We (the aid & I) were diligent in keeping the areas clean as we could, especially the one on the coccyx. That one is the one in the most precarious position. There are no real bandages that can properly cover that area. So diligence is a must. We actually had it healed over at one point. But it's reared it's ugly head w/a vengeance lately. It's opened back up and gotten bigger and angrier than before. The blame lies w/us(his daily caretakers) and some with the wound nurse that comes 3 times a week. Our blame comes from leaving him sitting up in the geri-chair too long each day. He's unable to move around at any level. Unlike us, he can't shift his weight around when his "hips" getting tired of sitting in one place. That pressure can cause skin breakdown and pressure sores. So slowly but surely it crept in. Ever so slight in it's assault that we barely noticed at first and then BOOM, before we knew it the sore was huge! It was of great concern to all who saw it.

He was ordered to bed rest immediately by his physician. Leave him in the bed and rotate him every 2-3 hours and keep him off of his butt. The aide & I have decided that as long as he's stuck in the bed, we're going to leave those blamed plastic covered diapers off of him as well. My husband doesn't urinate any longer due to the renal disease, so that's not a concern. His stools, on the other hand, come regularly and cause quite the mess. But it's small price to pay to help him to heal. I figure with diligence all around and letting the air get to the wound and keeping it stool free, perhaps we can defeat this all out war. His diabetes doesn't facilitate in any way. It takes diabetics 2 times as long to heal than a person without diabetes. He's propped at a 45-90 degree angle in bed to relieve pressure from that area. Let's hope we can get back in front of it. It can be a determining factor in his health and well being. I've beaten myself up over the last few days. That's elementary patient care. I knew better. But my quest to make him "normal" led to me leaving him in that chair too long at a time. My selfishness. Not his. I still am struggling to accept that nothing about him is normal anymore. I have to give in to the fact that things have changed and I must do what's best for him regardless of how it makes me feel. What an emotion to swallow. It's yet another step in the process. It's hard. But it's harder to know that I've caused him great pain with this sore. Intentionally? No. But pain nonetheless. Would this have happened if he were still in the nursing home? Perhaps. Who knows? After all he did come home with sores. It takes very little time to get these things. They are silent. They can be deadly and they cause tons of work to get them under control. The ones on his feet are getting better slowly but surely.

I've learned my lesson. These illnesses are collectively stronger than I. They are relentless and diligent in their attack. I'm the only force that stands between them and him. With God's grace, mercy and help, we'll get in front of them again.