Why is it, that I can successfully manage to bring a litter of neglected kittens back from near death. Swiftly administering subcu fluids, dosing the little ones if needed and bottle-feeding them all on little to no sleep, but when my husband goes into crisis like he did last night, I panic and spill the morphine all over the floor?

Mike’s mass (now a tumor) seems to have a mind of its own and it is spreading. The fear is that now the tumor has become lodged into his kidneys and this stage of the game, there is nothing anyone can do about it except manage his pain.

Last night was intolerable for him. He was screaming so loud in pain that I thought the neighbors might call the police. Instead I called Hospice and they gave me some alternative meds to use until they could get him another prescription of morphine this morning. Because the pain has intensified, he now has morphine pills and drops to put under his tongue. I am told this will help the massive pain.

I finally managed to get about four hours of sleep before it started all over again. I was using rolls of ace bandages put underneath his pannis (the loose fold of skin right over his groin) to take the pressure off and stop the catheter from becoming blocked. Apparently too part of the problem is every time Mike lifts this mass up to try and find relief from the pain, he is scarring his kidneys and causing more blood to enter his urinary tract. He is passing clots now through the tube.

Not an easy path for us both, and I have to wonder if these respite visits might be harming him rather than helping me. This is the second time he has gone into crisis mode the day after he arrives home from Hospice House.

I heard him on the phone yesterday, calling old friends and telling them )”I’m on Hospice care, but don’t worry, I am just fine!” I think he left several of them behind scratching their heads and wondering just how “fine” he really can be.