Life almost 2 years after ....

April 16, 2016

I know it's not April 16 anymore, but I have an ambivalent relationship with my blog right now and wasn't committed to posting what I'd written.  But, here goes, with the hope it might be helpful to someone.  

The “death march” is well underway.  Two years ago on April 16, 2014 Brian was in the hospital with a diagnosis of Non Hodgkins Lymphoma.  He had been through one round of chemo and we were hopeful, although he was at the bottom of the post chemo roller coaster with LOW, LOW blood counts.  He was experiencing some side effects, but overall he was strong and young and fighting hard.  I envisioned remission after round 3, followed by a stem cell transplant in Saskatoon, weeks or months in the “bubble” while he recovered over the summer, after which I would have my husband back and he could once again change the tires on his truck (his benchmark for recovery).  It didn’t quite work out that way.

After returning to our home from the hospital each evening, I was making bone broth and healthy snacks for him, thinking I was doing what I could to aid in his recovery.  Most of the time he wouldn’t eat or drink what I had prepared, because chemo affected what he could tolerate, but I kept trying and feeling inadequate when I failed – yet again.  Of course, he didn't know that, nor should he have known.  He was in a fight for his life, and didn't need to know about my insecurities. The other thing I did after leaving the hospital in the evening is shop – for flavors of Ensure that he liked (even though the hospital provided the basics), for the “right” breadsticks, for anything he damn well wanted.  I would have done anything - anything for him.  Almost 2 years later, I still can’t look at a shelf of Ensure or breadsticks in the grocery store without experiencing a pain in my gut. 

I love him and miss him horribly.  I’m convinced that will never change no matter what else changes in my life.  Sometimes still, I can’t believe Brian died.  In my mind, I was going  to die first. However, I must move forward and I am.  The pain is not as sharp as it was, and some days I feel great.  I've begun a new relationship, which is fun, but a new relationship complicates things.  Should I feel happy?  Am I betraying Brian by being with someone else? I don’t think so, but I still think about that.  I think most people expect me to now be okay now, although it’s so much more complicated than that. 

I miss being comfortable in my life. Brian and I knew where we were going. We had common goals. We knew, without a doubt that we would be there for each other no matter what. Damn, I miss that! Damn, I miss him. 

Love you forever, love you for always! You were one of a kind, my love.