One Year

Today I am distracting myself from the brutal reminder of just what happened one year ago today. I remember these final days as if they were yesterday or even as if they just happened. These moments have left a permanent mark on my brain that will never fade.

One year ago today, Randy and I woke up at my parents' house after spending the night there, just the two of us. Randy had been vomiting all night. After I got dressed, I went into the living room where he was on the couch, wrapped in our white blanket. He noticed I wasn't drinking my coffee and asked if I was ok. I told him my stomach was upset so I was a little nauseated. He then asked me if I wanted to stay back and he would go to the hospital by himself. I told him absolutely not because I knew he had ben vomiting all night. He tried to encourage me to rest but I knew that I needed to be with him because I knew he wasn't well. This was when I pointed out that I often needed to put how I felt in the back seat in order to properly care for him. The heart wrenching question that followed haunts me to this day. "I know you do. Do you regret marrying me?" My jaw dropped with his horrifying question. "I will NEVER regret marrying you." I meant it then. I mean it now. There will never be a day that I regret marrying that man.

Randy tried to take his medicine with a glass of water and within 30 seconds, it came right back up and he vomited brown all over our white blanket. I stood up, pulled the blanket off of him and helped him up, telling him to go take a shower and I would take care of the blanket. I put the blanket in the washer but that stain never came out.

I drove Randy to the hospital for his scheduled hydration appointment. We walked in and when we got to the desk, randy asked for a wheelchair. I remember thinking it was bizarre because Randy never liked being in the wheelchair. He never used them and he just walked into the building himself. We were only walking another 25 feet (at best). I remember being very confused. They rolled him back to a chair and the nurses that saw him 2 days prior said he looked worse and he felt worse. He had so much pressure and discomfort in his belly that at the time, they believed was a fluid buildup from chemo.

Randy was taken over to the ER and the on-call oncologist came in. He asked if it would be OK to admit him so that we could try to get the paracentesis done to drain that fluid and Randy, who hated being in the hospital, was all for it. The pain he was in was immense. Suddenly, the doctor looks at me and asks, "how long have his eyes been like that?" I reply, "a few weeks?" He nods and asks, "Has dr. Crane given you a prognosis?" I shake my head and say, "no. He promised me that he would when one needed to be given." He nods again and says, "ok." and walks out of the room. I look at Randy confused and follow him into the hallway. "What are you not telling me?" I ask. "What do you mean?" he asks. "I'm not stupid. I can read between the lines. What are you not saying?" I ask. "If his liver function doesn't improve in the next few days, he has weeks left." With that, all of the blood drained out of my face. My heart sunk and tears began to pour. He showed me that his lactic acid number was 10.5 and how this has been trending upward but no one told us. He encouraged me to talk to him and see what his wishes were. Did he want to end up in hospice or home care? The end of life discussions that we already had lacked that one final question that was ahead of me.

I returned to the room sobbing. Randy was confused. I went to his bedside and held his hand. My head rested on the back of his hand. "It's going to be OK. I'm going to be OK." He didn't know and thanks to that doctor, I had to be the one to tell him. "Talk to me. What's wrong?" Even after I told him, it didn't phase him. He was a living example of Philippians 1:21. The scripture he had on his arm was Philippians 1:21 in Ancient Greek. "To live is Christ, to die is gain". Randy was fighting to have more time with me and to him, it didn't matter if he was here on earth with me or if he was in heaven with Jesus because he was content with both. He would tell you that he wasn't ready yet because he wanted more time with his wife and I needed more time with him.

I went to the car to get our charging cords and I called mom. I was crying and hyperventilating. She came to the hospital to be by our side immediately. I called Veronica who took care of our birds while I couldn't be there. And I called Alyssa because I didn't want her to find out on social media. Randy's friend, Meagan, called and she came up to see him. She came to visit a few times and I know he was so happy to see her and I know she was so thankful to have those final memories with him. And I am so thankful to have the amazing people I had that surrounded me with love and kindness in my darkest hours.

I remember these calls like they were yesterday. I remember every single moment of these final days and they are traumatizing. They still make tears fall and take my breath away.

I am distracting myself today, campaigning because these are difficult days ahead. In the midst of the distractions, I have been blessed to have Alyssa with me in this escape from my reality. I am forever grateful for the love and support that those around me have given in the past year.

Please keep those that loved my husband in your prayers because the loss of this beautiful man is still so devastating. It doesn't matter how much time passes because that pain never goes away.

Previously, I posted about these final days that you can read in older posts.

photo of Randy and his college buddy Meagan