I think about my husband dying a lot. Most young, newlyweds probably don’t think this way, at least not as often, but I do have a reason. While my husband was awaiting his second double-lung transplant, he could have died. He almost did. There were days during that time when I was begging him to hold on, to fight. I know there will come a time when I have to tell him, as much as it will hurt me, that it’s okay to let go. Sometimes when he’s gone, just at work or at an appointment in Arizona, I look around our room at his things and know that someday, that’s all I’ll have left of him, just things. We have been apart before for long periods of time. He was gone twice for over 6 months. But there are texts, phone calls and Skype calls. I still
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And his life is so different than it was before his transplants. It’s so amazing. He can breathe, he can work, and he can do everything normally. Watching him go into rejection after his first transplant was hard, very hard. It was harder for him than being sick originally because before his transplant, not being able to breath and being sick was just the norm. Then he had a taste of what life could be like, healthy and wonderful, and then it declined rapidly and he was worse than before his first transplant. I know there will come a day when they will want him to relocate to AZ again and I don’t know if I will be able to be there with him because I will have work and kids to take care of. I am so afraid I won’t be there when he takes his last breath. That would kill me. I don’t know how I will go on without him. I will, of course, but I really can’t imagine my life without him in it. I hope to have him around for a really long time, I hope he beats the odds. I often talk to him about when we’re old without thinking because that’s what married people do, imagine their future together. I want him to see our grandkids, to travel after I retire and do all the things old people do together, but I honestly don’t know if he will be here to do
And his life is so different than it was before his transplants. It’s so amazing. He can breathe, he can work, and he can do everything normally. Watching him go into rejection after his first transplant was hard, very hard. It was harder for him than being sick originally because before his transplant, not being able to breath and being sick was just the norm. Then he had a taste of what life could be like, healthy and wonderful, and then it declined rapidly and he was worse than before his first transplant. I know there will come a day when they will want him to relocate to AZ again and I don’t know if I will be able to be there with him because I will have work and kids to take care of. I am so afraid I won’t be there when he takes his last breath. That would kill me. I don’t know how I will go on without him. I will, of course, but I really can’t imagine my life without him in it. I hope to have him around for a really long time, I hope he beats the odds. I often talk to him about when we’re old without thinking because that’s what married people do, imagine their future together. I want him to see our grandkids, to travel after I retire and do all the things old people do together, but I honestly don’t know if he will be here to do