I watched out the window today at everyone going about their daily lives and was struck by a pang of jealousy. Up until November that had been us, Dh trundling off to work and me taking the fosterlings out and about for the day. Now I am here, caring for DH and discussing the threshold for him going on a syringe driver. He is so yellow, yet so grey and he is sleeping all the time again. If he hadn't had the stroke in Nov chances are he'd be on a trial now for his cancer. Breaking his leg on top of everything else was just cruel. The hospice are now trying to find out if the cast can be removed in the community as I am not sure how well he would tolerate a journey to hospital and back in a bone shaker ambulance. He so wanted to see our fosterlings celebrate their first and second birthdays and he so wanted to see our first wedding anniversary in May and so did I but in the meantime I am so sad and so jealous. He can't even tell me I am doing the right thing for him as he has no speech, I tell him I love him every chance I can but I will never hear him say it again. Every time his breathing pauses I hope it doesn't start again because what is to come is so much crueler than just gently stopping breathing.