Fast forward to 12/9/2018.  My life has taken a tumble and things have greatly changed.  My husband had been here, although we are estranged, I brought him with me to Colorado for two weeks.  I guess I hoped that things would be different.  They were not but we enjoyed hanging out again.

Ten days after he returned to his house aka huge man cave he found out that he had prostate cancer.  I felt such a terrible grief; how does one explain the loss of hope in mere words?  I felt torn, just to know that he would be suffering through the whole cancer thing. 

He seemed flat when he talked to me about the surgery that was planned on 9/18.  I tried not to be obviously negative in any way.  It seemed like we were together again.  We counseled through the reality that was closing in on both of us.  I asked him to come here to recuperate; I remember buying tickets to bring him back with me after the surgery. 

I arranged to fly out to be there for the surgery; he would call me when he woke up and we would go from there.  He did not want to come back with me the closer we go to his surgery date.  I accepted the unacceptable; I began to feel that this was not mine to fix.  We were not together.

I did not go to the hospital.  For some reason, I could not handle being there.  He did not wake up but rather had a severe reaction to the anesthetic.  He remained in a coma for several days.  Whitney and I sat in a kind of shocked haze while pretending he would be okay.  My sister-in-law was insistent that I be there...he needed help and I was trained to do it.  He was on life support.  It seemed such a moot point.

I had to fly back to work but when I got there I could not stay.  I called my supervisor  and brought her up to speed.  It was not possible to be so far away while he lay in a bed on a ventilator.  With apologies, I packed up my things, gathered up my dogs, and drove back from Colorado to WNY.  It still does not seem real...

The rest of the days seem out of focus right now...a true blend of sadness and hope overshadowed by the sounds of him struggling to breath.  The ragged breathing tore at me while I huddled in a recliner praying for God to help me to accept what would come.

On the 12th day he woke up and we were able to tell him what has transpired; he was confused and could not believe that he had been out for so many days.  He would be alert for a short while before becoming agitated; they would have to sedate him again as he worked his restraints like a speed bag from his youth.  More days slipped by turning into weeks.  I had to get back to work...money was getting tight.

When I close my eyes, I see a collage in my mind with swirling images of moments of lucidity, of struggling, of agitation, and my fears. They could not extubate him; his throat collapsed the last time they tried.  I cringed as I watched the team shifted into overdrive.  They had to emergently re-intubate; he was exhausted but they knew they had to move forward with a tracheostomy

He became more alert when they put in the trach; the improvement was wonderful.  I could talk to him and he could understand; my fears remained tucked safely under my mask of relief.  This should not have happened...

I was working at a hospital about 4 hours east of the medical facility that he was in; he knew how hard it was for me.  I cried for fear I would not see him again for days while I worked.  It was something that I made happen. 

They found debris in his throat after 5 weeks; a piece of plastic tubing has been causing the issues.  Free of the scrap, he left the ICU the very next day.  He moved ahead at a pace that chased my fears away.  He counted the days until he would be free to head home; I thanked God for his mercies.

So, today I sit with tears running down my face.  He was only here with me for several weeks; he is now back at his house aka super man cave.  I have stepped back out of the picture; he has his life back.  He is so much stronger; it is good to see him on his feet. 

And me?  I am finishing up my assignment here; packing up to go to the next one.  I am removing myself from the situation.  We are not together.  I did not want to leave him there in the man cave; the clutter and chaos wears me out.  I have accepted things I cannot change...it is not mine to fix.  I have asked God to help me to do the next right thing.