Rearview calendar

I guess I am still on the thought jag of time and the last year of Gary's life. I usually buy a pocket calendar at the beginning of the year or just prior to it.  In December 2011, I found a decent one at 99¢ Only store.  This calendar had the whole week displayed on two open pages much like the one pictured here:

I put everything in the calendar: Pay days, PD meetings, Gary's PT and vacation hours, flight numbers and trips we had booked, and of course the doctor appointments scheduled. Boy, that blue 2012 calendar got a workout! I wrote everything down.  I knew from experience that I would need to write down every appointment, with what doctor, what was done and why.  I also wrote down if we stayed in a motel, or a timeshare etc.  I wrote down the mileage to and from every appointment.  I will need every bit of this info to do the taxes.  I fully intend to get every last deduction for this medical debacle that Gary suffered through.
It will be the last time I can claim any deductions since I no longer have a mortgage.

The record keeping I included in the little calendar even contains parts of conversations we had with doctors. What was promised, what we asked, etc.  It is so painful to go back and read what, at the time, were hopeful thoughts about treatment. 

When Gary was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he, being the ever optimist thought he would live 6 months.  I had read about Steve Jobs living years, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg still alive after years of PC and even Michael Landon and Patrick Swayze living almost 2 years with it.  I was just sure that Gary would make it through the end of the year and well into 2013. I think I convinced him too, because we were both surprised when we were told to go into hospice on October 8th.

I have read that being a long term caregiver for a spouse with a terminal illness can mean resentment, isolation, and ill will toward the loved one.  Yes, I did get impatient with Gary.  I am so sorry when I felt that way. I tried to wait on him the way he had waited on me when I broke my foot.  How could I not reciprocate in kind when he needed me? Most of the time, I enjoyed taking care of him.  I anticipated what he would want and kept him comfortable.  He was on a schedule of eating, pill taking and sleeping. When I cleaned his feeding tube at night, he would always ask, "Are you getting tired of this yet?"  I always said, "I haven't been doing it long enough to get tired of it  This is still the good stuff, and we haven't even experienced the bad stuff yet".  Gary was not convinced.  He always said thank you, please, and dutifully returned my kiss when I gave him one.

By late July, I could not hug Gary anymore because he was so full of tubes and so frail and bony.  It hurt him to sit on chair even.  I so miss his hugs; the way he'd have to bend down to hug me because of his height.  We would just stand there for the longest time not saying anything.  This is one of the best parts of being married IMO. Someone to hug and hang on to and rub his back while he rubs yours.  

Well, I still have the calendar of course. I will be using it to recount the mileage driven over the year. I keep all my calendars for years afterward.  In time, I will read what I wrote on Gary's last day.  The few lines on the date October 16 and 17, 2012 are full of my take of the events I lived through.  Gary's last words, his last cognitive actions, his time of death.

I have a new pocket calendar that I got at Target.  Not nearly as nice, but its little more zippy on the outside.  I do not intend to fill it with morbid details of doctors' promises like last year's.  If I had the choice though, I would still prefer to be fetching ice water, draining, cleaning up after, propping shoulders, applying lotion to swollen feet, measuring and setting timers, driving to physical therapy and blood infusions and even dozing off next to a hospital bed. 2012 was certainly not the ideal year, but it was our last year together so it has to be good enough.