Longing To Be Free

2am Saturday. The passage of the moon outside the bathroom window. 

I couldn't sleep for thinking about my freedom.

All day I make arrangements about Robin going into Lucerne House on Wednesday.....getting the furniture delivered ( thank you, dear friend, with a pick-up truck), getting him a TV ( thank you, dear friend, for doing it for me -  ordering it, buying it, collecting it) finding out about getting WIFI in his room ( thank you, dear friend, with local knowledge).

 And I cancel and re-schedule appointments. And wait for calls back about the finances and the care-plan and write emails and speak to the GP and the hospice nurse and the community nurse and the occupational therapist. And I make lunch which he doesn't eat.

  And this afternoon at the hospital we sit with the respiratory nurse while she demonstrates how to put on the breathing mask, attached to a small machine which will help to regulate Robin's erratic breathing. Thankfully he can start by using it in the day and if he has to use it at night I won't be the one to worry about it. He says it helps a bit.

Tonight I know for sure why I can't carry on looking after Robin at home. He breaks my heart...not just because he sounds so breathless, and has to keep clearing his throat, or that I can't understand what he says, or that he's so stooped and slow and looks as if he's going to fall over any minute,  or that he can't get off the loo without help, or that he takes so long to swallow a mouthful of anything and I'm afraid he's going to choke.... not just because I'm afraid for him all the time....but because I'm afraid for me.

That if he calls me one more time to blow his nose or have a pee, or have a crap,  or change the TV channel or scratch his ear, or to get out of his computer chair, or get out of bed or do his teeth ....when I'm trying to wash up or have a bath or write an email or watch a programme.... trying to have some moments alone... ....I'm afraid I just might shout or scream or break something....or hurt him.....or me. 

You'd think I could bear it because it's only two more nights....but what's more unbearable is saying goodnight to him with his heart so full of love and gratitude and mine so full of guilt and sadness...and longing to be free.