That's the rollercoaster, Jaymor. This time last week and probably a month before that I would have given my husband a few more days of life only to visit the next day and find him not exactly cheerful but talkative (usually about death and dying or gassing or bombs) but at least talking. Last week he wouldn't eat or drink - today he finished off a sausage, mash, cauliflower and onion gravy followed by rice pudding and marmalade! Tomorrow he will probably be on hunger strike again or brewing yet another UTI. I too dread going each day - sometimes have to sit in the car park for five minutes or so to steel myself for the unknown - could be a wrecked room or him so fast asleep in his chair that nothing will rouse him.
I so wish it was different - that visits could be pleasure but I am sure we will find the strength to see them through to the end, somehow.
Fond thoughts for you both
I so wish it was different - that visits could be pleasure but I am sure we will find the strength to see them through to the end, somehow.
Fond thoughts for you both