He did it. He really did.

It has been a long time since I have posted anything on this blog. One because, it seems, I'm no good at this and two, because I procastronate.

Well, It's August 10th and I am alone. Feeling lonely, upset, too sad for words and so pissed off that I want to scream. If I start screaming I don't think I will ever stop.

On July 24th at 9:30AM, my husband slipped his earthly bounds (I'm quoting from someone but could care less). He was put in the hospital in town the week before because he was not doing well. He was dehydrated. He was hallucinating and staying awake all night, which meant that I stayed awake all night and then when he did fall asleep, I was afraid to sleep in case he woke up and started doing something dangerous. How dangerous could he be? Well I'm sitting here and he's sitting on the bed and he lights a box of tissues on fire. I grab a newspaper and snuff the fire out, turn with the box of tissue to put them out of reach. Turn back around to him and he set fire to another box of tissue that were on the other table.

I was screaming at him, screaming as I burned my hand putting out the fire and all the while, he just looked at me and said "What? It was pretty. Why can't I have that on?"

The nurse arrived a few minutes later and he was so irrational. He wanted me to get the men out of the house, he wanted her to stay with him. She called the doctor and said that he really needed to be hospitalized.

My son and his family came roaring in. Scott was calm, Patty was calm, Taylor was calm. I was a wreck. I went into the bedroom where I was crying hysterically. 

Bill kept telling the nurse that I was mean and that I was no-good for him. He wanted her to take him home.

I know, I know, the hallucinations and everything else was caused by his disease. But it is hurtful to hear him say this. I'm practically lying on the floor crying.

Eventually, after 3 hours, there is a bed for him. He goes to the hospital with my son and the family and I stay home to get things and bring them to his room.

He's put on IVs because he's dehydrated. I kept trying to get him to drink stuff, but he would get hostile if I did. Even to take his pills, he would only take a couple of sips of milk or water. It was really frustrating.

Anyway, the decision was made to put him in Hospice House in Auburn. It is a lovely facility and they were so helpful. He was cranky and wanted to come home but they tried to explain why he couldn't. Within 5 days he was gone.

I left to have breakfast, cause they fed the "residents" but familys were to get their own food. It was okay, but I think he knew and just gave up. He didn't want anyone around when he passed and that's what happened.

I will always be grateful to Hospice House and to all the staff and volunteers that made the last week of my husband's life comfortable. He was in terrible pain and yet never really complained.

I love you William R. Boutin, Jr. You will forever be in my heart, my mind and my soul.