I must admit that I will not feel the least bit of sadness to see the end of 2025. This has been the worst year of my life. It started early when we got the news that MH's residual tumor was continuing to grow. He had the option to NOT have the surgery, but the thought of it growing in his head was what compelled him to get it removed.
A craniotomy is a big surgery for someone his age, or any age, really. He knew it was there, and he knew in 5 years he would reach the age where the doctor would no longer operate on him. He didn't hesitate; he said he wanted it out. The doctor said to think about it, and the surgery scheduler would be calling in the next week, and he could easily decide to not have the surgery, and that would be fine. He never waivered.
I didn't want him to have the surgery. I knew there would be a "penalty" to pay. It had been 4 years since the first surgery and there was FINALLY some improvement to our lives. But I told him it was a big decision and I would support whatever he wanted to do. I shed many tears knowing another surgery was coming.
Twice, he told me he made the wrong decision, and it broke my heart both times, but especially the second time. After surgery, he was in the ICU. The nurse was doing all the things they do after a big surgery. He was having incredible pain in his right eye, saying his eye felt like it was going to explode. He said, "I made the wrong decision. I didn't think it was going to be like this." Since I'd gone through this once already, I knew that problems that crop up in the first hours would often disappear within 24 hours, and this was no exception. I was relieved.
His recovery was uneventful EXCEPT that he was having delusions. This happened with the first surgery too. That time it went away once they decreased the strong steroids that were helping prevent seizures. This time, they put him on an antipsychotic because the delusions were longer-lasting and more frequent. As the drug took effect, he stabilized and was no longer delusional. But after he came home, I was still texting the doctor that the delusional thinking was showing up. At one point, he said he didn't know why this was happening and thought maybe a psychiatrist needed to be consulted. After a few more days, things settled down. In hindsight, the hydrocephalus was set in motion and would not be diagnosed until it was too late. It was the beginning of hell for both of us and the last two and a half months of his life.
Anyway, I didn't mean to go down this memory path, it just happened. My point is that 2025 kept throwing down broken glass that we both were forced to walk on. So I got through all the emotional, psychological, and physical trauma that was awaiting us. For my birthday, MH was released from the return to the hospital and discharged into Hospice. For nine days, I supported him and witnessed his suffering. I did everything I could for him, but that was nothing compared to the damage happening in his brain from the hydrocephalus. One day, for a short period of time, he was lucid and we had the gift of a few minutes to really talk. He told me he didn't want to die. He told me the decision to have surgery was a mistake. And I told him I forgave him for everything that happened because now we knew what caused the anger and violence. We were able to say a few other things, but I knew he was relieved that I forgave him.
So I made it through his death and the things that happen after someone dies. I did what needed to be done, and I did it quickly. I made changes in the house, removed his clothing, etc. I learned how to mow the lawn, adjust sprinklers, maintain the water softener, change furnace filters, and all the things he normally took care of on a routine basis. After several months, my annuity finally kicked in, so I thought I was ready to move forward. I was playing pickleball, joined a quilting guild, and had just signed up for a yoga class. I made it through the whole summer on my own and welcomed September with the hope that 2025 had no more surprises for me. Ha! I should have known better.
Long story short, Covid decided to visit me. It was the first time I was sick and alone. I wasn't panicked, but I was definitely concerned. Now I'm at the tail end of that and feeling pretty good. But I can't help but wonder, what's next? 2025 has been the "gift" that keeps on giving. Ugh!
