It’s been a while since I’ve written a brand new blog post. I felt I had nothing new to say, as I’d previously poured my heart out and shared all the wisdom I could think of to help others who are going through a devastating medical diagnosis, caregiving, preparing for the loss of a loved one, grief, and/or moving forward with life.
And then Thursday, Friday, and Sunday happened.
It’s been seven years now since Chris had the ride of his life to heaven. In honor of his memory, I’m posting an excerpt from my book “His Love Carries Me” that contains an excerpt from Chris’ book “Cancer on Two Wheels”:
A year before Chris died, he wrote a blog entry that he asked me to post after he died. I had read it then but hadn’t looked at it since. This particular entry was so important to him that it was first on his list of things for me to do after his death.
In 2011, Chris fractured three vertebrae. We discovered he had developed osteoporosis, caused by a clinical trial drug he was taking. His doctor wanted him to receive an infusion to help reverse the bone loss as quickly as possible. She told him the most common side effects are flu-like symptoms.
I researched the drug options after we got home to see if they would jeopardize his health. I learned they can cause the femur—the strongest bone in the body—to break. But what I found next terrified me.
The following information will be helpful to those who have lost a spouse, will lose a spouse, or are the executor of an estate. You may click on the link below to download a copy of the Excel spreadsheet I put together and then edit it to pertain to your particular needs. Put a copy of it with the Last Will & Testament. It will be needed someday.
If a family member or someone you care about has been diagnosed with a terminal illness, it can be difficult to process what will happen. After a while, many individuals come to terms with the eventual loss they will face. With that, many are forced to examine what loose ends they will need to tie up, from handling legal affairs to developing a support network for themselves and others. Haga Books of Faith invites you to learn more about what you can do to ease this transition with these suggestions in mind.
The evening of June 24, 2016, Chris was comatose. The nurse told me he may pass that night. Time ticked on. I had an hour of sleep in the last two days, and our sons had traveled from afar to be with their dad.
“Come on, Chris, we’re so tired. What are you waiting for?” I asked during the wee hours the next morning. It sounded callous, and my words shocked everyone, including myself. Exhaustion had taken over.
The hours continued to pass.
“Jesus, hurry up. Just take me now!” Chris begged.
By June 23, 2016, Chris was out of breath just standing. He was ready for the end to come. It was agonizing to watch him struggling, but it also made it easier for me to be willing to let him go. It didn’t appear God intended to heal him this time. He couldn’t ride his bike, do photography, eat, sleep, or work. He didn’t even have the stamina to stand up. His food, water, and breathing were restricted. He had absolutely no pleasures or quality of life left.
“I feel like God has abandoned me. Why isn’t He answering?” asked Chris.
It finally dawned on me.
