My beautiful man fought the good fight for 8 months. We didn’t get a full nights sleep the whole time because the steroids kept him awake but we fought the cancer together & his treatment was going well. We made the most of the time together. I still managed a couple of mornings of work. Unfortunately the treatment stopped working but with pain medication he was still positive although we knew the time would come sooner than we were hoping for. We never spoke about the end. We just plodded along made some nice memories. The last 2 weeks before he passed was hard, he had a back pain & diarrhoea & I couldn’t leave him as he needed extra help, which of course I was happy to do.
we were still bickering & sometimes it became a bit nasty as we were both stressed out completely exhausted. The guilt from things said out of pure exhaustion from both of us can never be taken back & although I know we would have forgiven each other it is killing me. The day before he passed we were bickering because he thought I wanted to put & leave him in hospital because it would be easier, I told him I wanted him home with me but his worse fear was dying in bed full of drugs, I hope he knew I would never have done that to him. On the morning of his passing his back pain was under control with morphine & his diarrhoea was sorted, we had arranged to go to his Mums 150 mile journey when I got back from a couple of hours work. All seemed well. He had seen our nieces the day before (the loves of his life), he had eaten his favourite food for the first time in 2 weeks, he was sat up when I left. He was going to have a little nap while I was out, I got back & he had passed. Thankfully for him not in bed but bless him. More guilt for leaving him although I do think he was ready to go, I just wish I had known. I just don’t understand how you spend everyday for 25 with someone & they are just not there. It all seems a bit pointless now & the pain is overwhelming.
