Hanging In

It's been almost two weeks since I've posted. Dean remains about the same. The drug gives him relaxed rest and sleep, though he now sleeps quite a bit. He is eating better, able to chew a little more. So I am trying to vary his diet. The other day he ate five fresh oysters, slightly poached (I cut out the hard-to-chew parts). But he wants to eat things he can't, like the brownie he saw Jonathan with. And one evening he wanted cereal, but kept choking on it. He is agitated more so with not being able to get out of bed. Yesterday he insisted that one night he got up and stood beside the bed, then walked to the front door and seemed miffed that we wouldn't help him get up. The mental anguish he is going through is heart-wrenching to witness. The hospice nurse told us this is typical. When she checked and spoke with him yesterday, he told her, "I never thought it would come to this--being totally helpless."

Apart from being in a weaken body, he seems 'normal'. The nurses warn us about false hope. They are going by what they see all the time, but they don't know him. And they don't know what God has in store for him. As long as we have a pulse, we have a purpose. Dean encourages everyone with whom he speaks. In his frustration, in his view toward tomorrow, there is no fear, no frustration. He knows the deep, deep love of the Lord. He is persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor things present nor future can separate us from the love of God.

He has his wit and dry sense of humor. Still mutters at the newscasters. Asks me if I remember this or that. Sometimes I do. Not sure about others, whether he is mixing memories or it's just my more frequent lack of recall. He welcomes visitors and phone calls when he is awake enough to carry on a conversation. And that's hard to schedule or predict. The stress is wearing on Jonathan and I both. And we are frustrated when we think of ourselves. As long as I can keep up with the laundry, cooking and kitchen, and light housekeeping, I'm okay.

Unfortunately my ability to do so has been impaired. The other evening I told Jonathan that while Dean was comfortable, I was going to walk down the road 15 minutes then turn around. At 8 minutes, my legs were throbbing, I was gasping for air. Halfway back I wasn't sure I would make it. I couldn't believe I had gotten this out-of-shape in a short time. By the time I got home, Jonathan thought I was having a heart attack.

After getting a long night's rest, I felt better, until I got up. Walking from room to room left me winded. My legs felt as if I'd been working out after a long absence. My whole ribcage hurts. I can't take a deep breath without discomfort. A visit to the doctor, an EKG and chest xray revealed nothing unusual. (Jonathan is insisting on getting a radon kit which isn't a bad idea.) It was back to the lab for some blood tests; results showed I was 'terribly anemic' causing my heart to overwork attempting to get oxygen moved around. So the next day it was again back to the lab for more blood letting. I haven't heard any news from the second round yet.

Unfortunately I've had to tell Dean a little since I can't move him or his legs around as much without grimacing and getting out of breath. He wasn't thrilled when I told him that I would have to leave bathing him to hospice for awhile. Hopefully my health and strength will return and remain as long as he needs me.

It's funny how little things can reach a nerve. I received an email from EZ Orchards that their strawberry stand was now open. Dean and I went there last year and enjoyed an espresso along with strawberry shortcake. I know I'll continue to have such reactions and am determine to recall the joy.