By Church Mouse

God grant me the serenity
To except the things I cannot change.
Courage to change the things I can and
the wisdom to know the difference.

-Taken from A.A. and Al-non

October of 1996 we moved into a two bedroom wheel chair accessible apartment that had a back door to our patio and the parking lot. It was kinda useless because you couldn't unlock it from the outside to come in that way. The first week a parade of strangers pounded on the back door wanting to buy drugs! I was nervous about answering the door so I posted a sign that said “Ernie doesn't live here anymore!!!!”

The next week Gordon went for another blood transfusion. I hoped it would give him some energy. This time it didn't seem to make any difference. One evening I was sitting on the floor beside the couch were Gordon was lying. I was trying unsuccessfully to hold back the tears. "Life is so unfair Gordon, why is this happening?" He hated to see me cry. Brushing back the hair from my face and not knowing what to say, he told me "I love you more than you'll ever know!" Of course this only made me cry more.

He had set the pain pump (it looked similar to a fanny pack) on the coffee table. When I got up to get some Kleenex I walked between him and the coffee table taking the tube with me that ran from the pump to his arm, pulling on the needle in his arm. All he said was "stop hon". His patience was unbelievable. Discussing our illness my sweetheart told me "They will find a cure but probably not in our life time!" He didn't say it with anger but with honesty.

There began many days when he didn't get out of bed except to go to the bathroom across the hall. He was living on ensure, yogurt, milkshakes and sliced pear. I pushed the yogurt hoping it would clear up the thrush in his mouth, but it was so out of control he wouldn't let me see how bad it was. I now suspect that that wasn't the only thing he was hiding pain-wise and emotionally, I’m sure he could see through my attempts at treating these days as normal."If only I could do something to help him." I was constantly feeling helpless.

Gordon was scheduled for dental surgery on the 14th of November. When the pain management doctor came out to see him, he told her he wanted to put it off until February. At that time the next step was to move him to the nearby hospital or Freeport palliative care. The doctor commented that he seemed to be in good spirits today, but...I needed to find out what his wishes were. I felt this must be a bad dream! She shares with Gordon's sister Lisa and I, "I don't think he is going to make it to February." So February was stuck in my head. At least we would have Christmas together.

Again I feel uncomfortable keeping things from the one I love more than life itself. Leaving Lisa and the doctor to talk, I went back in to ask the dreaded question. "I need to know if you want to be resuscitated." There's no easy way to ask at this point. His reply was "No, I don't want to go through the pain again that AIDS caused me!" Personally the church mouse is just dying inside. I think he knew that his pain was about to end soon. He had told the doctor he was ready to go. Throughout his ordeal he dealt with everything in stride and the best that he could, excepting his fate with great courage.

The first week in November my father in-law called and he and Lori wanted to come down and tell their son that his grandmother had died. I told him with as much gentleness as possible I just could not wait for them. During this visit it was really hard for Lori to see her son losing the battle so she kept herself busy knitting. When she left the room Gordon told Dad and I both "I'm just too tired to fight." We understood. He didn't give up he just gave in.

CM