Solo

Neal was admitted to the hospital again yesterday.  Wednesday we learned the results of the bone biopsy and the news was devastating to both of us.  We had hoped for a mild infection that was problematic and could be controlled by either oral antibiotics or perhaps a daily IV which would have required us to go to ATU (Ambulatory Treatment Unit) for a couple of hours each day.  However, the results were not what we wanted.  Instead he has TWO bone infections - one a garden-variety type and the other much more serious which will require at least a six weeks stay in a hospital or a nursing home somewhere with an RN to supervise the picc line IV's.  The wound clinic became our coordinator, communicating with the primary care doctor, the infectious disease doctor, the cardiologist and the hospital, and we went home to wait for an available hospital bed.  I wept.  Treating this feels like a race against time as his heart continues to deteriorate.
About noon yesterday we received a call that they were expecting us at the hospital and I packed a bag, then watched silently while Neal rolled his wheelchair through the house, looking at and touching things we've purchased together.  It felt like he was saying goodbye to our life and broke my heart.  I don't know why we are taking this hospitalization so much harder than previous times, but we both feel it.  We stopped at DQ for a Blizzard and then went on to the hospital.  On the way I realized that part of the difference this time is that we knew he was going into the hospital, instead of our usual adrenaline-charged emergency.  Being admitted on the main floor instead of starting the process in the ER was much more welcoming.  When we got to the assigned area I knew we've been there too often because nurses on duty recognized us. 
So I'm alone at home.  I've called the airbed folks and the home oxygen service to pick up their rental equipment and have put away a lot of medical supplies.  But time seems to drag without Neal to care for and talk to.  I miss him.
I understand the concept of being alone since I was divorced for many years before marrying Neal, and I know I could live that life again.  But our marriage is such a joy that not having him here with me is a stark contrast to days and nights filled with caring for and communicating with the man I love.  I know that if it becomes necessary, I will find the single adult rhythm of daily routines again, but the truth is I don't want to be alone.  I want my husband with me, teasing him about not sharing the remote, joking about whose turn it is to pray, reminding each other of appointments, preparing his favorite meals - just being a team.