Pedal Another Mile

Bicycling, death, life after death.

The waiting is the hardest part

Billy Jo made it through the night fairly calmly. Only after the 2:00am meds did she get restless. Yelled out a few times, ended up so tight in the fetal position I wasn't sure they'd be able to straighten her out.

Now, well... she is laying there, on her back, completely still, looking so frail and helpless. In fact, the view I have from where I sit and type this post looks exactly like she's laying in a coffin. Only an open mouth, the sounds of a shallow breath, and an occasional cough tell me she is still alive.

I demanded terminal sedation for her, she finally received it, and as result she's been properly medicated and no longer appears to be suffering, at least not in the terminal agitation sense. However, now that this huge hurdle was cleared, my mind has turned on me yet again.

I'm feeling selfish. Not in a "please don't go - I need you here for me - hang on hang on don't die on me!" way, but rather the exact opposite. I am beyond tired. I am beyond exhausted. This ordeal has drained me like nothing I could have ever imagined. I sleep, but it is in fits and is no way restful. I wake up every hour or two, hoping she has passed away peacefully since the last time I checked.

Billy Jo has done everything she can and will on this earth. There is nothing more for her to do or that she is able to do.

So yes, I am feeling selfish. I need this chapter to end and a new one to begin - the one where I begin to try and heal. The one where Billy Jo is finally, totally, at peace.