I imagine that a lot of you who have been logging on to see what has happened to the Great Adventurers are wondering, "Why has she gone silent?" My dear on line friends, so much has happened in the last 13 weeks and 2 days that it would take more than a page to tell you. So this is a paraphrase of the events that unfolded.
As you know from the last few posts in January, Chris came home from Karratha with an acutely sore back. When I went out to the airport to meet his flight, I was so excited to see him; we had a lot of catching up to do and I had a big list of jobs for him to complete :)
However his back was troubling him so much that he could hardly walk straight. So bad that he could not even bear to lay down and had resorted to sleeping in a chair. My poor darling just got worse instead of better despite rest and care.
It was a huge time for us, Christmas; Danika and Shaun, newly engaged, coming home from the Kimberley; Emily and Farooq here (with some wedding plans to finalise) and the last of arrangements to be made for Chris and I.
Well we pushed on and Chris put on a very brave face. Now when I look back I am astounded at how very brave he was and the intestinal fortitude that he portrayed is so very like him.
So after Doctors visits etc, we decided to keep going with our plans hoping that once we got to Karratha, his back would settle down - we were convinced that it was the result of a workplace injury, so we would deal with it there. How wrong we were.
Over the weekend before we were to leave Chris' legs started to swell, quite badly. I made an emergency appointment for the doctor. Chris had had blood tests taken the previous Thursday and after a lengthy discussion with the Doc and him at first looking at the wrong results - his face got grim and the whole tone of the visit changed when he finally looked at the correct results - showing a huge anomaly in the liver function tests.
"You're not going anywhere," he said, "Chris is very sick and we must get this sorted before you head off anywhere." My heart was already beating like a runaway train - I knew what was coming.
"What are you thinking?" I said. "Malignancy or heart failure." Chris said, "What is malignancy?" "Cancer." And then our world fell at our feet and my heart started to shatter.
My darling Chris, my beautiful husband, the centre of my world and the reason that I have been getting out of bed every morning was ill, seriously, seriously ill.
Monday 13th of January, D Day, turned out to be D Day for Disaster Day. Devastation Day. Darkest Day EVER!
By Wednesday we were sitting in the oncology specialists office and finding out just how grim and serious it was. Spread lung cancer - lymph nodes, liver and bone.
By Friday, Chris was starting to get dehydrated, his pain was unmanagable and he couldn't eat or drink due to hiccups and extreme indigestion. I had been getting up to him several times a night to re-position him and move the cushions that were supporting him.
At 6 a.m. on Friday, just four days after the initial diagnosis, I had no choice but to call the ambulance to take Chris to hospital. I cried and cried as I discussed it with him, but we both knew that there really was no option. He needed more care than I could give him.
As they loaded him into the ambulance, I hugged Danika and said "I am so scared that he will never come home again." He didn't.
The speed with which he deteriorated was mind blowing. The night before he passed away, I stayed at the hospital, just Chris and I. We had lovely chats, I told him that everything I did in future, I would enjoy twice as much, once for him and once for me.
For dinner he had a baked custard with raspberries on the top and then for dessert he had jelly and ice cream - his staple for the last few days. He did love his ice cream :) I asked him if he had enjoyed his dinner and he said, "Beautiful!" He always did delight in the simple things in life.
After his dinner, I settled him in his chair to watch TV; he kept saying "I will be better tomorrow; tomorrow I will be better. " Turns out he was right.
I kissed him several times, told him how much I loved him and what a wonderful husband he was. As I turned to walk out the door, he raised his hand and said, "Love you too." Those were the last words he said to me.
The next morning I went into the hospital really early and he was still sleeping. I put up a message that said, 'Just sitting here watching my darling sleep' - actually I was watching him die, he was already unconscious.
Just two weeks later after being moved to a palliation ward at the private hospital, Chris passed into the Hands of his Maker. 18 days from diagnosis to death.
The grief, pain and heart break of losing your best friend, lover, companion, confidante, champion, advisor and the person who loved me unconditionally for nearly 19 years is indescribable, so I wont even try. There has been a lot to get used to.
I have lost many things - a good friend of 20 years standing; my sense of who I am (without Chris to balance me out, who am I?) and at times the only reason to keep going was for our kids.
My family have been amazing and without them I really don't think I could have coped at all.
In the last few weeks, it has been our wedding anniversary and the wedding of our youngest daughter. I nearly made myself sick with worry about how that day would unfold but you know what, it was a totally marvellous day.
I am not sure when I will post again. But for today, I think this is enough for you all to digest.
Thank you in advance for your support. xx
