It’s late and I can’t stop thinking. My body has decided to go through “anxiety drills” and I keep having short and intense panic attacks. I wish I could say that I don’t know where they’re coming from but I do.

My husband has drastically declined these last couple months; ever since he got the feeding tube. We had gotten it as a precautionary thing but it just feels like we hit the gas on his ALS.

We had a big family trip to Las Vegas planned for the 18th. However my husband canceled those plans tonight because he doesn’t think he can physically do it. I don’t blame him. His speech and breathing have gotten bad just these last few days. At times I can barely understand what he’s saying. (It’s like my mother’s Alzheimer’s all over again.)

Just a couple weeks ago we were having a preemptive conversation about him maybe getting a breathing tube (trach). During this he was leaning towards doing it, but after his doctors appointment he has decided not to get one. If he were to do that it would require (literal) 24/7 care. The brother husband and I would need to take classes for his care. My husband wouldn’t be released from the hospital unless they felt that we were competent enough to handle it.

My husband already feels like a burden as it is, so once they told us this I already knew his answer without having to ask.

I’m not ready to lose my husband. I’ve known that the ultimate day was just over the horizon, but even with all the preparation it still destroys me. I can’t imagine a life without him present. Without his impish smile when he does something sinister. Without his advice, his words. He is the ultimate “Josh Whisperer.” (That’s me by the way. I’m josh.)

I just have to keep reminding myself that we’re not there yet. It hasn’t happened.