Monday 24 November 2014

Christmas promised

Trying to get a breath is my whole life now.  Trying to stay calm enough, unanxious enough to keep from collapsing completely.  A thought can start a chain reaction of physical events that rapidly lead to panic, hyperventilation and other delightful things. So far so good.  Bad thing is though that any movement now leaves me drained and on the edge of collapse.  Lifting a hand without thinking and planning will do it now.  I do what I can when I can. 

I am close to stopped.  I really can't stop.

My house is a feels a lot bigger and impossible to maintain properly now.  

We see 3 people regularly in the month.   They don't forget us.  Our angels.

Nicole labours too hard and nobody but I cares.  I can't do anything to help her.  She smiles, supports me. loves me.  Every day she takes on more as I fade away.  I love her so much.  Everyday she is more and more alone as I need time to answer a question, to recover breath to speak.   

We are broke.  Fairly sure I will die before we loose the house.  We keep the mortgage current, so that is one fine bet!  The house is for Nicole.  It is enough to give her a little nest egg for her next life. Worrying about a few hundred bucks every month sucks and there are times it pisses me off and times it disappoints me.  

I don't answer the phone anymore.  I check voice mail once in a while.  

I had a CT scan two weeks ago.  I see Dr A at the Jewish on Dec 9. I may get the results from last summers echocardio done by the transplant docs and the CT results.  Two possible transplant showstoppers.  I don't feel very positive about my chances anymore.  I suspect a lot of what I am experiencing comes from a failing heart.  The symptoms are similar in a lot of ways.  I have sharp pains in the chest now when I push hard.  

I am happy.  Love is all, it is not just words.  I have endless love from Nicole.  We do not cry, mourn nor spend time being sad.  We laugh a lot, we play with our kitties and we ignore the brutal reality of my disease and the current state of our lives.   

I still like to say I make dinner every day but there are days I simply cannot.  There are days now that |I cant dress myself, where I spend the day on my recliner lungs refusing to work enough to let me push.  

I will keep pushing.  I will keep loving.  I will keep living as long as I can fight this disease.  I had to tell Nicole that the time where I can't fight, can't move is getting closer.  She will let me go when we get there.  I promised her I would be here for Christmas and I suspect I will be.  Right now I hope she doesn't ask for a renewal of the promise.  

I spend days inside my mind.  Playing games.  Thinking.  Being free of this horrible disease.  Not dwelling on the obvious.  Not at all!  For that I am thankful.  

Wish me luck.   Love.