I can't even think of a title to sum all this up

3 minute read time.
We are still here at the Hospice. We've been here now for 12 days. The first few days preparing for him to die. Now we are waiting waiting waiting to see what his body decides to do. I think I have already died inside because I can no longer feel anything. I can't connect with anything or anyone. I' don't even feel exhausted anymore. Cancer is so cruel. His body is still so strong with no signs of it giving in just yet either. He has a strong heart, lungs and the constitution of a prize winning bull. I have always said he is like a bloody old oak tree and would take some felling but the place we are in just now is simply crazy . I was very distressed last Wednesday as he was having minimal fluids and waking up next to him to see sunken eyes and a gaunt look on his face will forever haunt me. There in lies the dilemma. He can't take anything by mouth apart from the odd sip of tea which brings about a coughing fit but does at least release some of the phlegm . However, he does have a feeding tube. After five days of it all being "the end" he sat up last Wednesday morning and talked a little. I had to tell him I wasn't feeding him to which he replied " who is then?". We talked a little and I had to ask the doctor if I could recommence his feeds. Of course it's all about the patient isn't it? What does he want? Has he asked for food? Well they don't know us do they. He would never ever ask for anything a he completely and 100% trusts me to look after him at all times and to do all those things for him. So the choice is do I starve him which could take weeks or do I feed him and keep him going . It's not like his is going forward. It's just a matter of keeping him going. He can't eat normally, he can't drink normally, he can't toilet normally and yet his one desire is to just do normal things. So he's back on the fortisips each day but is already so thin and without muscle. I could never give up on him of course but it's hard to see such a man utterly knocked off his feet and still the pain control is difficult for them. I'm not equipped for this. He doesn't deserve any of this and to be honest neither do I. Our sons sit with him everyday of course and I have to explain them that this is now our new normal life. Dad can listen to the conversations and make the odd comment but the fatigue is immense. I have been home once in twelve days which I hated but I know I was getting a touch of cabin fever here so it was the right decision. The trouble is where do we go from here? The hospice is not a long term place so maybe I need to think about getting him back home. But as soon as I start to make a plan like last night he's poorly again with a raging temperature. All the dread and anxiety comes flooding back. And so the story continues. He is going to have a long slow and painful end and there is absolutely nothing on earth I can do to help him. He's getting excellent care, I have no complaints in that regard. But his problem is nerve endings and they have been honest with me and told me it is far more difficult to deal with and the opioids just don't cut through the pain . There are many evil people in the world and it feels as through every single one of the them has touched us with their poison lately . But now and again through the fog I have a smile from him and a kiss from him and a squeeze of the hand from him and it reminds me of our love. I reminds me how fortunate I am and how much his strength keeps me going. I shall keep fighting alongside him as long as I can but I can feel the cancer sucking the life out of me. I could never imagine all this twelve months ago, life and death can be so unfair.
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