Ten Years Later...

It was ten years ago today when I lost my husband. He had Pancreatic Cancer, one of the more aggressive forms of cancer which is impossible to treat after a certain point. A tumor had quietly grown in his abdomen, leaving only very subtle symptoms of what was coming. The symptoms were so subtle that doctors missed the bigger picture, as did we. By the time we connected all the dots and figured out what was going on, it was too late, as the tumor had become so ingrown around the pancreatic ducts and blood vessels that it was deemed inoperable.

The winter he passed was a cold one. We'd had some trouble with the heat pump, but it managed to keep the house warm enough, thankfully. The area where we lived had some snow occasionally, but not a terribly large amount.

Several inches of snow had fallen in the weeks before Don's passing, however. I had to go out frequently to pick up medicine and food for him, so the snow made my outings a little less than desirable, but I managed. His pain medication was so strong that we could not get much of it at any one time. Foods often taste differently to people with cancer, so many things that he once enjoyed were no longer palatable, leading to many trips to the market to get alternative fare, often to have it rejected after just one bite. My husband had always exhibited almost child-like excitement over food, so it really tore at my heart to see his list of options in such decline.

As the cancer progressed, he wasn't able to eat much at all without it coming back up a short time later. He finally reached the point where eating was virtually impossible, and his only options were liquid. Finally, he wasn't able to keep even liquids down, either, and we knew the end was near.

Although the outings for food and medicine were made treacherous at times by the snow, frozen roads, piles of snow, wintry wind, and cold temperatures, it was lovely to see the sights as I drove to the pharmacy and market. Perhaps those little outings were part of what kept me sane through it all.

Fortunately, we had the benefit of Hospice nurses visiting every day or three to keep him as comfortable as was possible. I don't know what we would have done without them, and I have a very soft spot in my heart for Hospice nurses and what they do. (Also, Hospice cared for my mother three different times, and my father once, adding to my admiration of their profession.) And when the end finally happened, only one phone call from me to his Hospice nurse brought the necessary people to the house... 😥

And still, ten years later, I miss him terribly and think of him every day. He was Shiva to my Shakti, and our union was bliss. Forever my Love, Don... 💖