No-one could ever call me Florence [View all]

[Soph0571]

I am shit with blood and bowels and vomit. When I was 16-18 I worked as a cleaner in one of my parents nursing homes. I was heaving *gack* pretty much all of the time. But now I have made a decision and I am living it. As the SO spends most of the day in bed, hunkered down with his pain, I am being his Nightingale. Quite frankly, my ability to put up with *gack* seems to have matured as my only focus is to make him as comfortable as possible. What he gets he needs, always. But the dread of him leaving me, laying heavy in the pit of my stomach, will not cease. He is dying in front of my eyes. Every time I go check on him, I expect it to be the last time I see him breathing. So yet again I call on you. I know this is tedious, but this is the rhythm of my life as my heart prepares to go off planet and I need your backs. Soz for emotional bollocks.