Day Three

I’m getting ready to head into MGH for a fresh day of waiting, waiting, waiting, holding TAB’s hand (even if he doesn’t know I’m doing it), being mega frustrated with my crapped out sound system (hearing would SO come in handy at times like these), watching every labored breath the love of my life takes and thinking that TAB’d be fine if he just had Coco sitting on his lap.

There are no more hard decisions to make. From much earlier, not in hospital sick times, TAB established that, if things look wildly dire, he’s not to be resuscitated – no extraordinary measures. Those were THE all time hardest words I ever had to say.

Yesterday was a Top Thrill Dragster day for hope. TAB would wake up, seem all fine and dandy-ISH. I could see bringing him home in a few days maybe, even, hey who knows! Thirty short minutes later he’d sink into pain and confusion. My hopes rose and fell like a giant wave. Will he recover or will today be his last?

His nurses, Abby and Erin, were wonderful. Miles, Bethany, Celeste, Jen and Oni were with us through most of the day. Thank Bast!

At this point, it’s still unclear why TAB’s not taking in enough oxygen on his own. On top of the rampaging cancer and ticker gone mad, the docs suggest that he may have pneumonia. Christ almighty!

I told Jen that if, in the tiny morning hours, the nurses called with news, she should come over and wake me up – of course she would. We established that she and Miles would get calls if anything came up in those small hours since I’d never hear the phone ring.

No calls last night and, unlike Monday, I slept.

TAB’s childhood friend Dave, (friends for more than 65 years!) wishes him peace. Yeah. Likewise.