A few years ago, life interrupted so I'll try to catch you up before I move on.
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We left the Yellowstone area in the fall of 2017 having spent an amazing summer in the area (more on that later). We traveled back to TX for the winter as usual, but this time was different. I noticed a change in Shel's health and we needed to get back to TX as soon as possible. With extreme weight loss, malaise, loss of strength and abilities, I knew something was terribly wrong. We settled near San Antonio to be closer to medical resources and family. A year of medical appointments, tests and hospitalizations finally culminated in quad bypass surgery in February 2019. Even though the surgery was successful, Shel still faced other serious health issues.
While Shel was still hospitalized, well guess what? I was diagnosed with a brain tumor after my daughter insisted I have an MRI.
I was so consumed with Shel's recovery, traveling nearly every day to see him whatever hospital he was in, that I ignored my own symptoms that even my distant kids saw. I was falling and had to call the fire dept to pick me up when my legs didn't work, had very little memory of Shel's heart surgery. I was totally incontinence (which I didn't perceive as worrisome), and while Shel was recovering, I ran out of diesel for the motorhome for nearly a week, and froze. Carla convinced my Dr to order an MRI, and afterward was immediately admitted via the ER for brain surgery that day. Shel's family took care of our pets. We finally reunited at rehab a few weeks later, and for the next month, I underwent therapy to regain strength and agility, Shel rejected much help. My daughters dropped everything, traveled to TX, managed our affairs, and made ready an apartment for us, furnished it, and emptied and surrendered the motorhome before we were released.
We eventually moved in and life was good living on the 1st floor with a view of the community pool. I took advantage of the pool often and used the fitness center when I felt up to it.
After we moved into the apartment, I gradually became the sole caregiver, taking on most of the day-to-day tasks as Shel continued to deteriorate and no longer had the will or ability to carry on. We always promised our commitment to each other that included wiping each other's ass if it came to that, which it did. It was always a 2-way street for us and I knew that had our roles been reversed, I knew I would receive the same devotion, no question.
I even made things I would never eat. Shel and my mother shared a love of pigs feet, souse, scrapple, hog-maw, liver, and
HEAD CHEESE
Unfortunately, they never met.
Life became a routine of chemo, blood tests, infusions, transfusions, visiting nurses. Last weight was 134 lbs, 6'4" tall. Although Visiting Nurses came every week, I began considering fulltime nursing care.
However Shel fell in the middle of the night, hitting the edge of the bathtub resulting in several brain hemorrhages. I had a conversation 4 days later with one of the team of doctors who asked me to authorize or not heroic efforts if necessary. At that point I realized I had to face the gravity of the situation and that recovery was not possible. No prayers or divine intervention could change the course of life or death. Shel passed away 5 days later in Intensive Care just after being eligible for Hospice just hours earlier.
I am grateful that we had almost 25 years together. Our experiences living in Pennsylvania, NYC, small town upstate, traveling fulltime for 5 years then settling in TX was a life together well spent.
Our life together was complex. People who know us may say I could have done things differently. I chose not to.
Because, LOVE
