It’s been a while since I even logged on to the computer and just wanted to let everyone know it may be a while longer before I can focus on what I want to write. Death is on my mind lately, my regular readers know that I have terminally ill partner and I often wonder from a christian perspective, I remember how I used to think : “Why does God take away good people and let the bad people live”? Yeah, that was how I thought many years ago.
Today, my partner; while applying some essential oils on his chest asked me: “What did I do in this life to have to die in such agony?”. I knew the answer, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him, he’s a Catholic, he believes God chooses when he will die and feels cheated, he’s angry and after 10 years of living together, I was not able to share with him the wonders of death and that there is no reason to fear it, it’s awesome.
My partner chose this path, it’s very difficult to watch him die so slowly. I often ask myself if this is my lesson or his. Is there something I still need to learn, but then I wonder if there was, should he not know this and forgive me if he came into this life to teach me a lesson?
It’s very difficult for those to understand how I feel. I am a healer, I work with natural medicine, when I touch humans, I touch their souls and they heal if they want to. I am not the one that determines that, it’s the person I am touching that chooses life or death, sickness or wellness, I am just the mediator between heaven and earth, the energy cable, or the vacuum cleaner, it’s not up to me. I have watched him now for 2 years coming home from the doctor each time with a new box of drugs, each one without purpose, he’s a guinea pig. According to the medical research there is no “cure” for Pulmonary Hypertension, but then what the fuck, there is no cure for anything that medicine has to offer. I am not against drugs, sometimes we need them for intervening in a crisis, or short-term until we can stabilize the body but drugs don’t cure anything. My partner now has his own drawer in the kitchen just for his drugs, when he should be breathing oxygen, the system says he can’t, he has to be literally “dying”. Now that is comforting that he will at least have oxygen while he is taking his last breath.
There is more to the story, my partner doesn’t like to spend money, so last night, after not being able to sleep because of his coughing, in anger I got up and told him: “If you are alive by tomorrow, could you please write down your bank accounts and give me power of attorney so I can send the money to heaven to you?”. You see, he won’t spend the money to buy himself Oxygen, he will wait it out even in death to get it free from his medical insurance. This is the battle that is raging inside of me, that his life is not even worth a bottle of oxygen.
I just left the room now, I wanted so much to ask him what his life was worth, while his money in the bank didn’t bring him health, that all the money in the world can’t even buy it, you have to want it.
This is the man I chose to live with, this is the man that I love and honor and respect, and I thought I could accept this part of him too, but I’m not dealing with it very well. I am angry that he can’t see the way I see things, I’m angry because if this was me, I would sell my soul to get a bottle of oxygen. I know he chose this path, I know he came here to experience something, I know we both joined our lives together for the beautiful experience of love, after 47 years, I actually loved for the first time, I actually felt loved for the first time, he is my first love. He is the first man after many years I allowed into my heart, there will never be any regrets, but at this moment, while I sit here, I dread the thought of going back into our bedroom to hear him suffer, yet even when I ask if I should call the doctor, he says no.
It hurts, I thought he would at least fight it to spend more time with me, there is much pain inside of him, he’s never told me about it, I know it’s there because when I touch him I can feel it, perhaps that is the lesson that I need to learn, that no matter how much we love, no matter how hard we try and no matter how bad we want them to stay here, death is part of the experience.
I can give you some advice though if you have a partner. It’s old advice. Don’t wait for tomorrow to tell them how much you love them, don’t wait for tomorrow to tell them how blessed you are to have experienced their essence in this life, don’t wait for tomorrow for anything, it doesn’t exist. Only this moment exists, and right now, I wish this moment would last forever so I don’t have to get up and go back to the room. But I can hope that he will feel better tomorrow, after all, isn’t that why we invented the word “hope”?
Everyone here on the island is sick with the flu, this is what my partner is battling, aside from the disease, the flu can be deadly for him. This is what happens when you kill a fever, after a few years your body stops fighting and the enemies just sneak in because the army (immune system) is dead, drunk from toxins or asleep. They knew all the tricks, kill the fever and kill the immune system. Half the island is down, in bed with horrible symptoms, I feel like I am the only survivor on an island all alone.
Hey thanks for listening to my rant, it will pass, life goes on, tonight I need to find Sophia and tell her to hurry up with the correction, I’m getting tired of this madness and suffering and I am sure you are too.
My lucid dreaming is expanding, I know I am somewhere on some battleground but by the time I realize it, I forget. This morning I woke up and while walking to the kitchen I was thinking “Shit, that was crazy last night, the wings, the flashes of light…that’s all I had remembered, but I know when I wake up dead tired that I was out there doing something and last night was wicked.
Hope to be back soon.