On May the 4th when our GP came to check on Max I walked her out the front door like we usually did so we could have a private chat out of Max's ear reach. She told me she thought that Max had only a couple of weeks to live. I never wrote about it on my blog for fear of Max reading it. I didn't have to worry about it because he never managed to get on the computer again after that. I started sobbing when she told me and I told her that he would prove her wrong like he had done in the past. 2 Weeks? Who was she kidding ? There was no way he would only be here for two more weeks. I didn't believe her I didn't want to believe her. We had finally got the house sorted out for him everything was in place his hospital bed, his recliner, furniture was raised, enough space for wheelchair access etc. He wasn't going to go so soon! The very next day Max asked me "How will I know when it's time ?" How could I answer that for him ? I couldn't. I told him I didn't know. I didn't, I don't.
Max had become quite breathless and was struggling getting his sentences out. He had also become quite agitated, he was angry. In the last couple of months he had changed, he was no longer the Max I knew. He was frustrated with everything. He was in pain, he had bedsores and he was extremely uncomfortable. After he broke his shoulder most of my time was spent repositioning cushions and trying to sit him up or down or to the side but he was never comfortable and very frustrated that he couldn't even jiggle himself in the bed, firstly because he had a busted shoulder and secondly because he had become so incredibly weak.
I feel guilty now because those last few weeks I didn't really spend quality time with him and I do regret it. I spent so much time with him but no real time with him and when I finally did get a minutes peace between him and Bubaboo I didn't really feel like spending time with him, so I avoided him. I was scared that if I sat with him we would have to do the whole rejigging getting comfortable thing again and hear him complain over and over again that he wasn't comfortable or in pain. It was really tiring. I tried my best to make him comfortable I really did, I did everything I possibly could...my body is still paying for it now. I wish he was here complaining to me now. I would sit by his side and listen. I am sorry babe.
Max passed away on the 11th of May he didn't make the 2 weeks.
I have so many thoughts in my head and just realised this wasn't the post I sat down to write but here it is....maybe next time.