You have all been so kind, thank you for the words of comfort and wisdom.
I feel so raw right now; like every ounce of energy I have is going into keeping me alive.
As requested, here is our back story:
We met in late 2001 when I started working at the same place as he did. He rented a house near the business and I asked him if he wanted a roommate, he accepted. We moved in Feb 1 and by Feb 7, 2002, we were inseparable. From that date on, we were only apart if I traveled briefly for work. Flash forward to 2014, he was experiencing some breathing issues and finally met with a doctor to diagnose. He was diagnosed with Pulmonary Fibrosis and our world fell to pieces. By 2015 he was having trouble doing the stairs at work, next thing I knew, he was taken off active duty and effectively retired. It was a shock to me as he'd been keeping this information to himself to spare my feelings. We took comfort in couples counseling and our love deepened beyond anything that I could ever have imagined. By 2019 he was completely housebound. Then covid hit and we hunkered down to stay safe. We left the house for hospital appointments only. June 2020, my appendix ruptured and I had to leave him alone at home while I had surgery and then to correct an abscess right after. When I got home, we found out he was no longer eligible for lung transplant as they had found cancer in the lungs, and our world crashed again. It was at this time that I developed full body hives just to add to the experience (I still have them). He never complained. He cried when he saw what I was dealing with. He tried every day, all day, to make me smile. He thanked me for every piece of care that I provided and always told me how beautiful I was. We joked, we played, we made up silly songs and sent each other funny snapchats. He was pure sunlight in my world. Then it all came to a crashing halt. He started having secondary issues like nosebleeds from having to use so much oxygen. I ended up calling 911 because we couldn't get them under control. Little did I know that this would be his last day at home with me. Of course, due to covid, I was unable to be with him. Unknown to me, he stopped eating and was barely drinking out of a fear of choking. He was isolated and so alone. He was terrified that he would die there, alone, and no one would know. He convinced the hospital to call me and let me see him. I was by his side within 20 minutes. As soon as I walked in, I knew it was over. He was so small and looked so defeated. I sat with him and told him that it was OK if he needed to stop fighting. I lied and told him that I'd be ok. I held his hand and stroked his ear. His pain was out of control, the nurses and I tried to keep him as comfortable as we could but it wasn't enough. He started to beg me to kill him or knock him out... I didn't know what to do or say. That night, as I dozed next to him, he passed.
My husband's illness was caused by a workplace exposure to heavy metal particles and was completely avoidable had he been made aware of the need for safety precautions. No safety orientation was provided and no safety equipment was made available. To date, his employer continues to provide the service and the employees are still completely without ppe. My husband is the 3rd employee to be diagnosed with cancer and the second to perish as a result. Its completely senseless. I am so angry. I feel like he was stolen from me. Oh, and I worked right alongside him... will this be my fate as well?? Do I have the same time bomb in my chest?
My feelings are so jumbled up, I'm probably rambling at this point. Thank you so much for this forum and the support thus far. I promised my Bear that I would take care of myself, so I will, I just don't know where to start.
Xoxo Rabbit