"three to nine months of mesothelioma, I think."
Those seven words were a young doctor said December 18, 1999 ?? the day my husband, Brian, was diagnosed with mesothelioma.
This sentence pronounced indifferently took my breath. It marked the end of Brian's life and changed the course of my own existence.
By the time we got out of the hospital and into the parking lot, sadness settled over me like a cloak, and it changed the way I saw my world.
Nothing Is the Same
the first thing I noticed was our boat in the driveway.
yesterday, Brian and I had our favorite fishing. We spent hours catching fish and enjoy the company of others. We laughed a lot that day, mostly about who caught the biggest fish. . Now the car has a precious memory that almost made me cry
in the house, I saw telltale signs everywhere of our life together: Our coffee cups sitting side by side on the sink . half-finished crossword Brian was beside my magazine on the dining room table. Our sandals waited by the front door. A basket full of our own clothes was ready to sort and store.
Looking at these and countless other things of daily around our house, made me feel incredibly sad because they remind me Brian would not share my life for much longer.
It was no different when I went outside.
Baskets full of petunias decorated our patio. Brian and I planted the pretty flowers every year. It was our ritual.
Brian vegetable prospered by closing. I studied healthy plants and several times thought Brian had me standing next to him with a bowl of potatoes he tore from the ground or fresh beans he took the vine. The look on his face at these times was always a joy and pride.
Despite our problems, life continued to go
I was reluctant to leave the house for days after the diagnosis of Brian. Our friends and acquaintances knew we would have the results of Brian pathology tests. They were waiting to hear how it was. But I'm not ready to tell anyone that he was dying.
I felt incredibly vulnerable. the impending death of Brian was constantly in my mind and kept me on the edge of tears. I found it almost impossible to get back into the routine I had followed before his diagnosis.
Regardless of our sad situation, life continued around us. I had a business and a house to run, and there were decisions to make. Finally, I ventured out of the house, told our friends and acquaintances about our situation and tried to get on with my life.
The problem was that I did not know what direction my life was headed. There was nothing I could predict or hope in life. All I saw before was sad, and I felt like I was dying with Brian.
Brian persevered
While I was fighting my own emotions, Brian received with his life. In the early days of his diagnosis, he still looked and felt good. His pain has been minimized, and he was able to remain active thanks to excellent pain management routine, I kept on.
This helped him to believe that he will not die of mesothelioma. love her as I did, I soon realized that life in the hope of a cure, gave meaning to his life. Determined to help in any way I could, I decided to respond in a positive way every time he talked about our future together.
Support hope, knowing there was no chance of survival, was incredibly difficult for me.
However, there was a time when I learned to live each day for the precious gift it was. Life was normal in the true sense, but some things never changed. Our deep love and respect each other, and the joy we found in the company of the other
These are the things that really mattered [
We continued to enjoy doing our favorite things together for several months and even found reason to laugh.
These were precious time, and I'm so grateful for them.
As I've mentioned in previous blogs, I kept a journal during the two years preceding Brian spent. The newspaper was part of my life. I wrote in daily, often expressing my emotions through poetry.
I wrote the following poem, published in my book, "Lean on Me," shortly after that I decided to live each day with gratitude for the gift it was.
Precious Moments
there is laughter now in our days
Because we grew stronger
We learned to push our grief away
And to live every moment
of every day
For we know that tomorrow may never come
And our good night may be our last goodbye
