He just wants to go home, sit on our patio, visit with friends, and hold my hand.
Mike hasn’t been able to eat in a few weeks now. He still has the infection, and the drain in his liver, and now the tumor has blocked the exit of his stomach again.
They went in last night and tried to place a stent between the tumor and his stomach, and when they passed the first obstruction they came up against a second one. They are going to try to do another feeding tube in the next couple days, but it is possible that Mike may go home with no way to get any nutrition. Obviously we have to get nutrition to live, and without being able to get it his time will be very short.
Even if they can get him some nutrition the tumor is a foot long, invading his organs and is very aggressive. He went from eating, to not being able to even digest his stomach contents all within 3 weeks.
Further cancer treatments aren’t really an option at this point, it is even possible that they would cause him more harm.
Mike told me today that he is sad that I never got to see the best of him.
I have seen a man who was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and still let his son move to another state to live with his mother, because that is what he wanted to do.
I have seen a man who went back to work at the job he loved way too early last year, because his short term disability payments were due to run out, and he needed to provide for our family, including my daughter.
I have seen a man who when told he may not have much time, has been more worried about what is going to happen to me when he is gone, than in his own self.
I have seen a man who has picked up the phone with courage to call his aunt, his son, and his siblings to give them all of this devastating news over and over again.
Last night, when Mikes sister and I were given the terrible news that they weren’t able to place the stent we were sitting bedside in recovery. Mike was still out. As he woke up, he heard me crying. He was still under anesthesia, and he said “why is my wife crying? I told him that I was sad. He still had his eyes closed, and he said to his sister “Donna, are you comforting Anne?”
How could there be a better man than this man?