April 3, 2018

“Today is Tuesday, April 3, 2018. It is 7:00 am. It is 70 degrees outside. You have a big day scheduled. The visiting hospice RN is due at 8:30 am and the hospice social worker at 1:30 pm,” I said to my wife of 43 plus years.

In the background, my sister-in-law said, “It’s time for your first morning meds. These are the ones with the thyroid medicine and two others. You take them before breakfast.”

My wife squinted, the ceiling light temporarily blinding her and then hurting her eyes. “So I don’t get breakfast now.”

“No, you don’t eat with the thyroid meds. The others RXs are to protect your stomach and get you ready for breakfast, and the 9 am medications,” said my wife’s younger sister.

“So I have to wait an hour to eat?”

“Yes. I am going to cook you pancakes for breakfast,” I said.

She gave me an evil eye.

“I know, you didn’t like them in the hospital or the in-patient hospice, but these have the secret ingredient, my love,” I said.

As she rolled her eyes, she said, “Okay, why not? I’ll try them.”

And so began day five on the in-home under the supervision of hospice care of my terminally ill wife. She has had Melanoma for three years. It spread to the brain. A tumor was removed. I recurred again. And here we are.

I’ll write a few thoughts from time to time on what is happening. From what I’m told, if I use an American football metaphor, it is the fourth quarter, the two-minute warning has been given, and we are out of timeouts.

Author: Jimmie Aaron Kepler, Ed.D.

Jimmie Aaron Kepler is a full-time writer. He was born in San Antonio, Texas, to a career military father and stay at home mother. He lived in six states and attended eight different schools before graduating high school. He earned a Bachelor of Arts in History with minors in English and Military Science from The University of Texas at Arlington, Master of Arts and Master of Religious Education degrees from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, as well as the Doctor of Education degree. Before writing full-time, he worked as a US Army officer for 10-years, religious educator for 18-years, and as an IT software application engineer for over 20-years. He is a widower. He lives in North Texas with his cat Lacey.

3 thoughts on “April 3, 2018”

  1. Jimmy, while I doubt Benita will remember me from high school… I remember her, how could I not, she was this quiet smart gentle soul of a person who was always friendly and would always return your hello and seemed to sincerely care about everyone around her. I am so sorry to hear about her cancer, my prayers to Benita and her family and friends.

    1. Thank you. Yes “quiet smart gentle soul of a person who was always friendly and would always return your hello and seemed to sincerely care about everyone around her” describes her perfectly. And I have the honor of having her as my sweetie and wife.

Comments are closed.