I am trying not to freak out but am not succeeding.
J went on hospice at home yesterday. They can’t bring out a bed until the morning. I am increasingly afraid to go to sleep out of fear that he won’t still be alive when I wake up.
His oxygen is turned up to 5 and he’s still having pulse oximeter readings around 85. His breathing is shallow and I can’t tell for sure but I think he has the “death rattle” which would mean death is very imminent. His lips are cold when I kiss him.
Chloe has a damn ear infection and needs to go to urgent care tomorrow, and there truly couldn’t be worse timing. J’s sister will be here tomorrow and I might ask her to take Chloe, just because the end feels so near. I really don’t want to leave him.
I need to try to get some sleep, especially because I got up early yesterday too. I got some melatonin in the appropriate dosage for moving your sleep schedule but it won’t be delivered until tomorrow.
But I’m so worried about J. It can’t be ending this way—not as fast as it seems to be. But I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?
I just seriously can’t believe how everything has happened so fast in the past 10 days since his hospitalization.
On the one hand, I don’t want to prolong his suffering any longer. But on the other hand, please just give me a little more time with him. Please? I’m making bargains and pleas to a God I’m not even sure I believe in.
Please stay just a bit longer. Let the hospital bed brought by hospice revive him a bit.
I know that I have to let him go but how?
This disease is the cruelest thing I’ve ever been through by far.