I don't know how to write this.
I keep sitting down, staring at the computer, and getting up again. Trying to think of some light-hearted twist to this. But there is not a damn thing funny about this.
Mat probably has a few weeks to live.
Now my stomach is starting to hurt and my heart is pounding and my shoulders are inching up toward my ears. I want to get up again, but I will finish this.
It should be no surprise to anyone who has read these posts that Mat has less time to live rather than more. Mat is on hospice. But I really, really believed that Mat would hang on for a year. Or more. People do.
But he has been getting steadily worse since starting hospice two months ago, needing ever-increasing doses of pain medication to be comfortable, having more and more difficulty leaving his bed, and becoming increasingly tired.
Despite these struggles, Mat seems more clear-minded and purposeful than I have seen him in a long time. He is calling friends, talking with the kids, and tightly packing his schedule with visitors. (He is not, however, checking email, because his pain medication has made his vision blurry and he can't read email.)
Where does that leave me?
Well, for one, still holding out a sliver of hope that all of this activity will look really silly when Mat is still here 10 years from now. At the same time, planning a funeral.
If you'll excuse me, I think I need to go throw up.