LVSteve
Member
... but it will not be easy. If you are not in the mood for sad stories, hit the back button now.
This time last year my wife had been in a skilled nursing facility for about four weeks. The plan had been for them to rehab her as best they could from the effects of whole head radiation treatment. Hopefully, she would get at least some mobility and then she could come home.
So, along comes Superbowl weekend and Connie is all sad that she cannot make me a little party. As a substitute I ordered pizza to take to her room and we planned to watch the game together. She started tiring before half time and eventually asked me to turn the lights out. After a little while I asked her if she just wanted to sleep and she said yes. All the enthusiasm for our party had melted away and she just wanted peace and quiet. I said I would take the pizza home and watch the rest of the game then come back, but she said no, go home and get comfy and to come and see her the next day.
I think I watched the rest of the game, but I did much of it through tears realising that the fight was slowly being drained from Connie and that things were unlikely to end well. She was a trooper and fought on until 3 July as I posted last year.
I guess this is going to be a another sad anniversary to go with some of the others that have already passed: the first diagnosis of brain cancer; the last Thanksgiving where I had to help off the floor of the restaurant; our last Christmas with her in a hospital bed in the family room; 30 December. the last day she was in our home; watching our last New Year together watching the fireworks on TV in her hospital room.
Sorry all this a bit glum, but I had the unpleasant task of helping take one of Connie's sister's cats to the vet to be put to sleep just yesterday. Connie and Goldie bonded much to her sister's surprise and losing Goldie is another piece of Connie gone. I guess it does not help that it is Con's birthday this month.
Thanks for listening.
This time last year my wife had been in a skilled nursing facility for about four weeks. The plan had been for them to rehab her as best they could from the effects of whole head radiation treatment. Hopefully, she would get at least some mobility and then she could come home.
So, along comes Superbowl weekend and Connie is all sad that she cannot make me a little party. As a substitute I ordered pizza to take to her room and we planned to watch the game together. She started tiring before half time and eventually asked me to turn the lights out. After a little while I asked her if she just wanted to sleep and she said yes. All the enthusiasm for our party had melted away and she just wanted peace and quiet. I said I would take the pizza home and watch the rest of the game then come back, but she said no, go home and get comfy and to come and see her the next day.
I think I watched the rest of the game, but I did much of it through tears realising that the fight was slowly being drained from Connie and that things were unlikely to end well. She was a trooper and fought on until 3 July as I posted last year.
I guess this is going to be a another sad anniversary to go with some of the others that have already passed: the first diagnosis of brain cancer; the last Thanksgiving where I had to help off the floor of the restaurant; our last Christmas with her in a hospital bed in the family room; 30 December. the last day she was in our home; watching our last New Year together watching the fireworks on TV in her hospital room.
Sorry all this a bit glum, but I had the unpleasant task of helping take one of Connie's sister's cats to the vet to be put to sleep just yesterday. Connie and Goldie bonded much to her sister's surprise and losing Goldie is another piece of Connie gone. I guess it does not help that it is Con's birthday this month.
Thanks for listening.
