I try not to feel sorry for myself, but things are just too hard. On top of my grief and heartache I have chronic pain.
I've had eye pain for almost two years now. Ten doctors and thousands of dollars later, and the pain has only gotten worse.
Brian took care of me all through 2012. Driving me long distances to so many doctor appointments. Offering me strength and support when I had to get injections in my eye. Holding me and comforting me when the pain and frustration became too overwhelming.
My back problems and sciatica started getting really bad about a year and a half ago. The pain wasn't chronic, but I had several episodes of debilitating pain. Brian took care of me. He massaged my back when the muscles were so tight that he could see the knots under my skin. He catered to me when I was on bed rest with unbearable pain. He held me and offered his strength when the pain was so bad and I couldn't find relief.
I remember late last Fall apologizing to Brian for being a burden. It seemed that so much of his time was spent taking care of me. He kissed me and told me that I wasn't a burden. He said that he loved me and that taking care of me when I hurt was part of being in love. Then he said, "someday I'll be sick and will need help, and you will be there for me because you love me. We love each other, this is all part of the package."
I don't think that either of us could even conceive that in just a few months he would receive a diagnosis of terminal cancer, and that I would help take care of him for four months.
He was right, caring for the love of your life is not a burden. There is nothing I wouldn't have done for him. But, watching the love if your life dying - that is torture. And then he was gone and I could no longer take care of him, and the most unbearable grief became another facet of my pain.
My eye pain is now chronic and unbearable. I'm taking some strong meds, but we don't know if they will help. My back pain radiates down through my hip and leg. It has become chronic, and the orthopedist is recommending surgery.
Each day I take more prescription medications than anyone should take. The doctors don't know how to treat the eye so I'm taking low doses of a chemotherapy drug once a week, and popping codeine like candy. I was having a terrible time getting to sleep so they prescribed enough drugs to put me into hibernation. They are very effective in making me very sleepy. Then in one or two hours I'm awake. The drugs have dulled the pain, but my body aches, and my skin crawls, and I can't find a position that feels comfortable. And I lie alone in my king sized bed looking at the empty side where my Brian should be, and my heartache overshadows all my other pain.
Grief is cruel. Pain is terrible. Together they are torture. Everyone tells me to have hope - that I'll feel better soon, but two years of chronic pain is just too much. And in the dark quiet hours after midnight, when I lie alone on my side of our big king sized bed, I am reminded that my hope died with my husband.
I am not strong enough to survive all this. I am completely broken.
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