It is quiet, so unspeakably quiet.
and it is empty.
The pain is intense, we had hoped, but hope dies in the end.
Last Friday we had still celebrated our 16th wedding anniversary, only Waltraut and I, had allowed ourselves a glass of port wine. We were so hopeful that the 20th should not be a problem :-(.
In February, we got the diagnosis of cancer. Colon cancer inoperable, too many metastases in the abdomen, too great a risk that the peritoneum could fuse with the intestine. A long conversation with the oncologist. He could not dispel my concerns as to whether the chemo would work. My fears that the treatment would simply cause us to lose valuable life time were confirmed.
Once again I was right, how much I hate it, once again what was classified as unlikely by the medical side occurred. Like in 2017, when I caught MRSA (antibiotic-resistant hospital germs) after an actually harmless bladder operation. I was afraid it was going to get me.
I hate to be right.
My crystal ball hasn't let me down in the last few years either, but now Corona is over, let's look forward, we now have climate.
Yesterday morning Waltraut was still so happy, was proud that she managed to make breakfast without my help, While I was on my way to the store, she made plans for the evening meal of the next few days, took care of the household a little, was proud as punch that she could do something alone again. She showed me her legs at breakfast and was happy that she had regained some muscle mass.
But at noon the tide turned. Suddenly she could neither feel nor move her legs. Helpless, she lay on the floor, far from any phone. Fortunately, she was found after just over 2 hours because a friend of mine was mowing the lawn.
So ambulance, off to the hospital. After a few hours, they finally let me see her. The diagnosis was terrible.
All the main veins down from the abdomen had stopped flowing, her legs were chalky white and cold. So unspeakably cold. The intestine was already dying, beginning sepsis. Due to age and previous illnesses, no treatment was possible.
Time to say goodbye. In the morning still full of life, in the evening already almost dead.
The metastases had multiplied during the cancer treatment, and the clogging of her blood vessels had been further promoted and accelerated by the chemo.
This morning I visited Waltraut with Jule and Karina. Waltraut had a very friendly relationship with Jule and Karina. In the meantime, she was hardly conscious due to strong painkillers, but I could see that she was very happy about our visit.
Only a short time later I got the call in the store that she had passed away forever.
It is silent, so unspeakably silent.
And it is empty.