It's the second nite without hubby here.  We've just never spent much time apart & I thought it might be kind of liberating, or fun being away for awhile, but so far it's been no party. 

He & his sister flew out to San Diego to visit their brother, who is not doing very well.  I've talked to him many times on the phone today, as he tries to keep me updated, but I just should have gone with him.  Being on this end, many miles away, is driving me nuts! 

Jeff was diagnosed with multiple myeloma about 5 years ago I beleive.  He did have a stem cell transplant at City of Hope near LA & then had about 3 good years in remission before getting sick again this past summer.  He's been in & out of the hospital several times in the past 6 months or so & has under gone more chemo & radiation, but now the Drs say there's nothing more they can do for him except palliative care. 

My hubby & his sister are spending their time sitting with him, helping him get around & even outdoors a little bit to enjoy the beautiful California weather & sunshine.  They're cooking good meals for him & his wife & their 10 year old grandson that lives with them.  They're helping organize his meds & making sure he's taking them. 

And they're looking into some kind of health care for him outside of the hospital.  In home health care, or a visiting nurse type of situation ... anything!  Jeff & his wife are not real open to the idea & have already basically refused hospice care.  He desperately needs something.  Hubby has to return to work next week & his sister has to return home to her hubby & young kids. 

It was such a great relief to me when hubby decided to go down & help his brother.  But I honestly don't know what's going to happen when he returns home.

I'm sorry to read about your brother in law.

It's -11F -24C here not even counting the wind chill.

When you believe you have a future, you think in terms of generations and years. When you do not, you live not just by the day — but by the minute. It is far better that you remember me as I was — in my heyday as a best-selling author — than the wild-eyed wreck who returned from Louisville... Each breath is becoming difficult for me to take — the anxiety can be compared to drowning in an open sea. I know that my actions will transfer some of this pain to others, indeed those who love me the most. Please forgive me. Forgive me because I cannot forgive myself.