Hey Jeff, best of luck to you both! I know what you are going thru, and hope for Al prompt improvement and return home to you. It’s clear you love him very much, and I’m sure he loves you back like you deserve. I wish for you both many more years of happiness together,
Carlos

Hello Jeff,
All I can do is to wish you a lot of strength to go through this. It will be a difficult journey filled with a lot of emotions. Having gone through this recently, I know what you are going through and what you feel. Remember to take care of yourself too.

Jeff.
I’ve been in a similar situation and all you can do is be there for him since you can’t plan or think about much else.
Very best wishes from both Trevor and I.

Sorry to hear about the situation you find yourself in. I recently went through something very similar with my partner back in May.

He wasn’t feeling very well, so I took him to the ER, thinking it might have been COVID, but they tested him and he came back negative. They gave him other tests and found out that he had Pneumonia and “might” have had Leukemia. They gave him a prescription for some pills to take over the weekend and I brought him home. He only got worse over the weekend so I took him back to the ER on Monday and they gave him another battery of tests and found out that he had ACUTE Leukemia (had 24x the amount of white blood cells as a normal person would) along with Pneumonia. They decided to keep him for a couple of days.

The following day, I went to go visit him and the head nurse informed me that only family members were allowed to visit. My heart sank thinking that I would face a huge fight, so I went outside to try an calm down and when the head nurse left for the day, one of the other nurses came out and told me that I could go in and visit with him. The following morning, I ran into the hospital’s gatekeeper who didn’t allow me inside the hospital (she used the COVID restrictions excuse). I told here that THEY WOULD NOT KEEP ME OUT OF THAT HOSPITAL so I called the head Doctor himself and he informed them that I was to be allowed into the hospital whenever I wanted, regardless.

The head doctor visited with my partner and I and let us know that my partner needed to get moved to another, bigger hospital, but there weren’t any beds available at the moment (THREE huge hospitals a couple of cities over didn’t have any beds available!) so we had to wait an additional three days before he could get moved.

My partner let me know that he didn’t think that he was going to survive because of the pain that he was in and that he didn’t want to go through any cancer treatments for the Leukemia, so he told me that it was time for me to let him go. It was the hardest thing in my life that I had ever gone through.

It took him about 2 weeks to finally pass, when I got the phone call early on a Saturday morning, I started crying of course and even now, I still find myself missing him every single day. He passed on May 29th of this year.

We live in a very small, rural town in West Virginia, no real support group of fellow gay people to talk to. The hospice that took care of him was the only thing that was positive about the whole ordeal. They truly cared and each of the people that came to visit and talk with us from the hospice truly gave us exceptional service. A lot of the gay doctors and nurses would come by as I had informed the hospital that I had the POA and the Medical Power of Attorney as well…and that we were partners in life.

A lot of us younger guys go through this, many times more than once. Believe me, once you go through it and start living again, you will feel stronger because you will realize that you know what love truly is and it will make you a better person.

I hope the best for your partner and you.

Thanks so much for all your thoughts and support, @David_Cantu! I’m so sorry for what you went through; I know it must still be a fresh and open wound.

Al is my third partner. My first died suddenly of a heart attack and my second had a long, slow decline with dementia, so I have a lot of experience and know what to expect.

I had the same uncertainty with Al, a few days of ambiguous symptoms before he woke me at 2AM having trouble breathing. I thought I’d taken him to the Prime Timers convention and let him pick up COVID somewhere on the trip, and was almost relieved that it was “only” pneumonia.

You’re living where I grew up. Was your partner in Ruby? The VA hospital in Clarksburg? I’m sorry you had homophobia on top of everything else you were going through. Kudos to the other staff who went behind the head nurse’s back to do the right thing!

I’ve been open all along this time, and have had a great response. When my last partner was sick 15 years ago, I only called myself his “friend”, fearing what treatment he might receive when I was away from him. I felt that enough time had passed and the ground shifted, so I’ve identified myself to everyone as Al’s partner this time, and have had very little resistance. Most people are excited, a bit thrilled to be around such an unusual relationship. They can see how much we need each other and are working with no hesitation to get him back to me. It’s good to be in this new place.

I know about the bed shortage. Al’s sister in York, PA needed an ICU bed a few months ago but had to be sent home pending surgery because of a COVID surge among Coal Country anti-vaccers. Al’s insurance company tried to push us into a place that’s a known death trap for rehab, but we managed to hold on until a bed opened somewhere else.

I’m so very sorry for your loss. I had to let Glenn, my last partner, go, too. I had his medical power of attorney, so I had to give my OK when the doctor came and said it was time to unplug him. They moved us to a quiet ward and kept him pain-free until Nature ran its course. I hope the end was as peaceful for you, too.

I’m so glad you had a good experience with hospice. I moved back to Morgantown to care for my parents, and after my mother’s death, I took my dad to a bereavement support group run by a hospice social worker who became a good friend to me. She was from Logan County (you’ll know what that means), but was as open and supportive as could be when I told her about my two departed partners. I’m reassured by the number of straight allies we can find in the least likely places. I hope you’re finding support there. Don’t neglect online resources, too, when you’re ready to reach out and talk. Keep taking great care of yourself, and reach out here any time. There are lots of our fellows here.

Jeff

Update:

Thanks, everyone, for all the public and private support you’ve sent. It’s heartening to know so many people are thinking of us and rooting for us.

We finally got word Friday that a bed was ready for Al in a better rehab center. I drove to the hospital and sat with him until an ambulance came to move him. I followed them to the center, but we had a surprise when they checked him in. I’d toured the facility a few days earlier and was told that they’d just re-opened for visitors and would stay open until a staff member tested positive for COVID. What they hadn’t told me was that I would be free to visit him after a 14-day COVID quarantine. I knew about the quarantine, but thought it meant he’d be kept separate from the other residents, not from me. Instead, we had a hasty goodbye, and he was rolled away.

Neither of us did well with the idea that he’d be alone for two weeks. I got him on the phone and reminded him where he was and why, and told him that if it didn’t work out, he could call me anytime, and I’d come and get him, that he wasn’t a prisoner.

I barely slept that night, and was awake when they called at 4:30 to say he’d fallen after waking confused and trying to get out of bed on his own. When I started calling at 9:00, it took 45 minutes to get through to him. His son had come over by then, so we both got to talk to him and reassure him that we’d pull him out anytime if it wasn’t a good place. He said he thought he should be there given his condition. That took a massive weight off my heart. Until 12 hours later when… Well, here’s my diary entry from this morning:

Spectacle

I had indulged in a second gin and tonic when Al called at 9PM and said, “Take me home.” He said the nursing home was no good, that he couldn’t get any water, that no one would come when he called. I called the nurses’ station, and it just rang and rang for minutes on end, like it did this morning. I called the front desk and got no one there. I called Al back and said I was coming. I’d told him I’d come and get him any time he said, and he’d said.

Brewed coffee into a thermos, had another cup to make sure I was no menace to fellow late-night drivers, and headed over. Got the transport chair out of the jeep and lucked out by meeting a delivery person in the foyer waiting for someone to let him in. When she opened the door and started signing for the package, I slipped past her like I belonged there, and she ignored me. Kept on, following signs to Al’s room, and had the first shouts at my back as I approached it. Went in and found him looking very small and worried.

One of the staff was right behind me to find out whom I was and what I was doing there and whether Al was OK with it. I told her he’d asked me to come and bring him home, and we went back-and-forth about it while I sat down with Al to hear what he had to say. The staff member (a nurse, I think — it looked like she was laying out pills when I passed her) said she wouldn’t stop me, but asked if I would sign a paper absolving them of responsibility. Someone else went to get that while she went over the reasons he shouldn’t go: He’s on oxygen, which we don’t have at home. He’s weak. He’s still on an IV antibiotic. I agreed with her, but said I’d do what he wanted.

In the middle of all the bustling in and out, I pulled the chair over and tried to help Al into it. He could sit up with a lot of effort from me, but he couldn’t lift himself to transfer to the chair. One of the staff, coming back into the room, heard me saying to him, “Look, dear, if you can’t get from here to right there, how am I going to take care of you at home?” They reinforced that and told him he shouldn’t be making me feel so guilty.

They kept trying to reassure him while I took a phone one of them handed me and spoke to the Head of Nursing. She repeated the reasons Al should stay, and I told her it looked like he was seeing it for himself now after we weren’t able to get him out. She said we can take him now if we want, but she thinks he’d most likely end up back in the hospital or dead. She said she was instructing her nurses that I should be allowed to visit him from now on. I thanked her and told her that’s really what we need. He’s confused there on his own, and I’m a hot mess sitting at home and not seeing him. If we can just lay eyes on each other every day, I don’t think we’ll need to make a scene again.

I talked with the staff while we got him re-settled, and then spoke to them in the hall after I’d kissed him goodnight and said I’d see him in the morning. They were kind and understanding. The one I’d mainly talked with said she’d had him up at the nurses’ station part of the day to get him out of the room and had shared her own snack with him since he had such a good appetite. I think they’re still a little short-staffed, but they’re providing good care. They dealt with my sudden and distraught appearance quickly and professionally, and I don’t think they have anything but Al’s best interests in mind, with eyes on the goal of getting him well and out of there.

Quite a night. Al looked and sounded fine, aside from his worry. I hope seeing me helped him have a better night. I felt a little easier, aside from my antsiness at being in the spotlight and embarrassment at making a spectacle of myself. Not my usual style, but I still had a bit of that second g&t in me on top of weeks of anxiety over Al. I probably would have bit a dog if one had leaped into the fray.

Off to see how he’s doing.

I went back, and, true to her word, the nurse had put me on the list of acceptable visitors. The front desk staff covered me in an N95 mask and face shield, but then let me go back to see him. He was sitting at the nurses’ station, where they’d brought him after he’d grown restless in bed. They’d brought him the newspaper and snacks and were fussing around him as much as other demands allowed.

We moved him to a new room closer to the station when it became available, and I put on the week’s golf tournament and tried to distract him with it to keep him upright and building his strength until after lunch, as the nurses wanted him to do. He did his best — which was not, objectively, the very best — not to ask me every few minutes just to put him in bed. Lunch came and his appetite continued strong, and he struggled through the half hour they wanted him to stay up after eating.

When he was stretched out at last and lowered to the floor to head off any further falls, I had a long-needed time of contentment. When the aide left, I crawled in and spooned up to him. “Hm!” he said. “Is it OK?” I asked. “Yes,” he said, “feels good.”

So we napped half an hour together again. A little odd to have him under the covers and me on top and separated by two layers of PPE, but it was a long-missed moment of semi-normalcy. He felt so good, warm and full under my arm. I didn’t sleep well, waiting for someone to come along and say, “Oh, no no no…!”, but if anyone’s head poked in, they didn’t break us apart.

I left him after a few hours, heading home for some time to myself before therapy starts in earnest tomorrow. Part of me is chagrined at placing demands on these well-meaning, over-worked, under-paid, under-appreciated folk who really do seem to want nothing but the best for Al. Another part is proud that I’ve stood up for him and been there to be sure that what he’s getting is as close as can be to the results of shouting, “Hey, Jeff!” at home.

Heading back in the morning with a platter of cookies for the nurses’ station to atone a bit for all our drama and demands. Looking forward to a week that inches him ever closer to being with me again.

Jeff

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sorry to hear you cant see him for 14 days.

Wishing the best for both of you🙏

I sincerely hope Al recovers quickly and you both don’t suffer too much in the mean time. Take care.

Your both in my thoughts and prayers, for a fast recovery.
PJK1953

Progress:

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Hi Jeff, I hope Al has improved. I just want you to know I’m thinking of you both. Thursday will be my second Thanksgiving alone, and still miss my Mel as much as the first day alone.

Dear Jeff, I have gone through similar with my parents. Just know that you have many guys here thinking and praying for you and Al . You are loved.