It doesn't get any easier...

I'm really trying to stay positive...but today certainly didn't help.

Over the weekend, I got confirmation on my suspicions regarding Wayne. I suspected that once he was bedridden, that was the beginning of the end. I just know him and I know his spirit and I knew that he wouldn't want to live like that. On Friday, he told my mom and me that he was ready to go. That he didn't want to be a burden on anyone anymore, and he knew his time was coming.

Today, more news. Wayne's hospice nurse suspects the beginnings of pneumonia and a UTI. Because he doesn't wish to have any life-prolonging care or treatment, he won't receive antibiotics. So the nurse doubled his morphine and that was that. It's likely the infection could end his life sooner.

My mom has been great throughout this process. She has been there by his side every step of the way, learning everything she can to support him and help herself through each stage. She has been a wonderful advocate for him, as well as a caretaker and companion. I am so proud of her. I will not call her strong, because I learned from a recent widow from our Gilda's Club support group that they get tired of being called strong when they feel anything but. I will say that she has done everything she could for him, and more.

I really tried to soldier on through the day after hearing the latest news, and I was doing a pretty good job until I left work. I was in a rush to catch the bus and tried to take a shortcut over the grass berm in front of our building. Big Mistake! As soon as I hit the downhill slope, I felt my feet fall out from under me and I went crashing down on my rear end. Did I mention that said berm was quite muddy? So I sat there, covered in mud, and watched my bus drive right on by. Thank goodness for a kind coworker (and friend) who gave me a ride home, despite being covered in mud!

Life goes on, right? So I'm waiting for my dryer to beep so I can throw on some clothes and go get groceries. Such is life...