What a difference a year can make

This summer has been difficult for me. Not just because of the cancer (though that has definitely been a challenge), but also because I keep thinking about what we were doing this time last year. I think of last summer as the beginning of the end. Of course, at the time I didn't think that it was the end, I thought that it was just a bump in the always bumpy CF road.

In July we went to Colorado to visit Gessner's family. He was too sick to go and I tried to convince him to postpone the trip, but he insisted. He said that he wanted to make sure to see his grandmother in case something were to happen to her. It makes me wonder if he knew or felt something, but I don't think that he did. I think that if he did he would have done more "wrapping things up." Anyway...we went to Colorado and had a good visit with his family, including celebrating our niece's birthday.

(Gess and Hannah posing with tutus and tiaras)

But, Gess's health did not do well and he ended up in the hospital. It was scary to be in a hospital in a smaller city, with doctors that have no clue about CF. Gessner's oxygen saturation levels were way too low. He had to wear oxygen 24/7 while we were there. (Gess wearing 02)

After we got back to Seattle, Gess continued to use o2 much more frequently than he had before. It wasn't quite 24/7, but he needed frequently. He stopped working, which was HUGE for him. Gessner loved to work and worked way more than I wanted him to. I think that part of it was to prove that he could do it in spite of CF and to prove all of those people who said that he wouldn't live to be an adult wrong. And man did he prove that! He was an amazing man and did so much in his short life.

The reason for him taking time off from work was because he started the lung transplant evaluation process, which requires a lot of tests and appointments. I was actually a bit surprised when he decided that he wanted a lung transplant. He always said that he didn't know if he would want one or not, but I always felt that he wouldn't want to go through it. I'm not sure why, it was just a gut feeling. But, when the time came, he didn't want to live like he was living with the increased limitations, so transplant was his only option for going back to a more "normal" life. His lungs were not bad enough for a lung transplant under normal circumstances, but he had liver involvement too, so it changed the landscape a bit.

As we went through the transplant process I started to have hope that he would get better and I certainly didn't think that in a few short months he would be gone. I keep going over and over those months in my mind and looking for something that I could have done differently. What if I didn't let him go to Colorado? Would that have made a difference? Was I nice enough to him and supportive enough? Did I give him enough of myself? Did I make him happy? I know that there was nothing that I could do, but I can't stop these thoughts. Or the flashbacks and nightmares. I wish that I could.