It's so Quiet

by Joanne
(Nova Scotia, Canada)

Near the end of August, my husband was complaining of back pain, saw our Doctor who diagnosed osteoarthritis and sent him home with pain killers. He went back again after no change and the doctor scheduled a CT scan.

In the meantime, we canceled our first big vacation since my retirement, and tried to cope with his pain. During the last week of September, he started having breathing problems; resulting, on October 8th, with a trip to Emergency. An X-ray showed fluid in his lung.

The following week (Canadian Thanksgiving Day) he was hospitalized, his lung was drained, and a CT scan was ordered, followed by a biopsy. We were then told that he had inoperable, untreatable lyposarcoma. His illness was terminal. In the following weeks we saw two specialists who confirmed this diagnosis and we went home.

A Palliative Care Team arrived on our door step the week he came home, and they started caring for him, attempting to manage his pain and help us prepare for his death. I promised my husband that I would do everything I could to keep him at home.

As October turned into November and November into December, we settled into a life of constant people in our home, either caring for us, or visiting.

On December 2nd, a follow up CT Scan showed that the original tumor had doubled in size and a new tumor had developed.

December 11th was a good day, little pain, a good meal etc. On Friday Dec.12th my Husband's daughter came to stay with him all night while I took my first break since his illness began and went to sleep over with my grandsons.

When I returned on Saturday Dec.13th, I learned that he had not eaten, and had slept almost non-stop.The Palliative care team suggested I get some nursing help which I did, and help arrived on Sunday morning.

At the end of her shift I asked that my husband and I be alone for the evening and the nurse should return that evening.

Almost the minute the nurse left, my dear husband became incredibly agitated, would not stay in a chair or in bed; his behaviour was totally out of character and I did not know what to do. My friend happened to call and came to help me until the nurse arrived at 10pm.

Once the nurse arrived, she got him settled and his bed ready and he asked her to leave us alone. All he said to me was "I love you, you know that don't you?" We talked briefly but he said little else.

With the nurse there to look after him, I went to bed. Monday morning, he slept peacefully, but didn't open his eyes. About 10am the nurse told me all the signs were there that he would not make it through the day. I stayed by his side all day, talking to him. He died at 8:30pm. Just 2 months after he was diagnosed.

I miss him and the house is so quiet, and I know he is not coming back.