Oh, Bettyanne, I'm so sorry. It's like losing a piece of your heart, and there's no pain killers for the ones sharing the journey, though I think we're entitled to them sometimes.
I echo Hops' about contacting Hospice. They offer help with pain medications, and emotional support in comforting unexpected ways, IME.
My Bill had oxycontin pills that worked for 10 hours, so I didn't have to wake him up every 4 hours, then Hospice brought patches. My mom received her pain meds and hydration intravenously, which was a huge relief. She felt so much better, and we felt better having someone there to explain and comfort us.
You and Bill shared a life, and brought comfort to each other. That comfort doesn't have to end now. It should go on in celebration of what you've shared, and still have together. No one knows when that ends.... particularly not Western doctors, who should never give days left to live, like that, IME.
In any case, we all have the choice to live every day we have left, or die a bit every day in fear.
We have choices to make. All of us, and no one knows when we're going to die. Hit by a bus tomorrow..... tomorrow is promised to no man. Choices.
Celebrate what was, and still is. This culture fears and dreads death, but it's just a natural part of living. No one gets out alive. Acceptance can be a beautiful thing, and free us up to embrace, and create what comes next, IME.
My Bill died a little every day of his final 5 months. I attuned to his mood, and the house was dark, and serious, and without joy. There was fear, and dread, and he clung to me like a child to his mother, speaking about what he wanted for me when he died.
We didn't celebrate the amazing years we had together, which would have been joyful, IMO. He didn't recount happy stories with his friends, or tell his children what he thought the first time he saw them, held them, sent them to their first day at school.
You can open the curtains, and windows, light candles, make sure the house is fragrant with essential oils that bring you joy... fall breezes.... the little things.... flowers, and the people Bill loves, and enjoys seeing, the things he loves doing... don't shut down, and miss opportunities for more joy, Bettyanne. The music Bill loves. Warm light, instead of harsh cool lighting.
Your Bill is still here: )
Celebrate that with him every moment, and help loved ones do the same.
There are stories to share with family, memories to whisper privately, and blessings to count.
Sometimes I dream about my Bill, and there's so much I want to say. It always ends before I can get it out. You have time to say all those things, Bettyanne. In the ways you need to say them, whatever that is, hopefully without fear, bc you do have choices.
((((Bettyanne, and family))))
This too shall pass, and it's going to be OK. You're going to be OK.
Lighter
