It only took one moment to change our lives; one moment to shatter what we built together.
I still can’t believe this happened all those days ago; it’s still so fresh in my mind, in my heart. And I grieve for what was and what will never be again. Still, we move on and learn a new normal. And we begin again.
This is my journey: It began more than 2 years ago when my whole world was ripped from its axis. It just took one sentence, one gentle delivery of the news that the man I loved might die; though, I think the actual phrasing was “if he’s still alive.” I struggled to understand this concept of “if he’s still alive.” I couldn’t understand who the doc was talking about. It couldn’t be my honey; I still needed him. We were supposed to be old and gray together, and even if the gray had come along, we were not old. He promised me, and we were not old yet, so he couldn’t die.
After I understood what I was being told, I’m pretty sure my brain tried to surge towards unconsciousness, but I couldn’t collapse or give into it
It was just beginning. The harrowing was just starting to come for us: I feel like I blanked out for a few seconds when I heard those words, self-preservation at its finest. The background noise seemed to reach me from a long tunnel, it was muted, dull, and incomprehensible. A hush had already fallen around the Emergency Department: Everyone knew my honey; they’d worked with him for years, almost 2 decades in some cases. They knew what was happening and did what they needed to do to keep him alive. And the unspoken thought screamed from every direction: would it be enough?