Adieu, My Brooklyn Toughness

Hunter has departed to a new sojourn on July 6, 2011 at 2:55 pm.  Beside his very unique character, he packed and carried along the love for him from family and friends and care from people that we’d come across since he had been diagnosed with liver cancer in March 2010.   A tough departure at the beginning but toward the end it became as peaceful as it should have been.  This post is my good bye to my Brooklyn toughness husband and also a dear friend Hunter.

Hunter liked to call himself “a guy from Brooklyn” although he left the East Coast years ago and moved with his parents to Marin County when he was a young boy.  He did have a Brooklyn accent though and people would recognize it when they spoke with him especially when he was doing demos in the stores before he was forced to be a full-time cancer fighter.  He didn’t like the wordings that people would often use such as “battle,” “fighting,” “combat,” etc., so when we started this blog he called it a Sojourn of Living With Cancer.   I liked it too as the word “sojourn” reflects our fear, hope, and destiny.  Oh my dear husband.  How much he wanted to live!  

Everyone wanted to know how we met and ER doctor was not an exception.  When I brought Hunter to the VA Hospital in San Francisco two weeks ago, the ER doctor looked up and asked Hunter why he was examining his abdomen “How did you two meet?”  He asked in a very natural way that Hunter paused for a second as our love affair might have had something to do with the course of treatment. 

They, the doctors, came up with a combination of PO and IV given every two hours for pain control.  The graveyard shift nurse was a young girl coming to California from Wisconsin to pursue her nursing career.   She took such a good care of Hunter and stayed on top of the pain schedules.  Coming in the room every two hours, at 3 o’clock in the morning, she suddenly asked Hunter while giving him the shot “How did you meet her?” and shook her head toward me who was resting in a malfunctioning recliner in the corner of the room.  I pretended sleeping while listening to Hunter whispering to her his love story with me in it and tried to hide my smile.  The girl in turn told Hunter about her boyfriend and that they were very serious and getting married soon.   Three o’clock in the morning, darkness, hospital room, pain, Dilaudid shot, and love stories.  It reminded me of Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky.  It’s was beautiful though!

Hunter wasn’t afraid to say “I am a good man!”  When Chaplain Steve came by, he put his hand against Hunter’s belly right where the liver was and said “You’re a good man.  I know it’s hard to understand but…”  Hunter was right on “I thought it’s very easy to understand.”  We all laughed.  My husband.  What a funny man he was! 

And he took off.  Just like that, simple, low key.  As he had written:

Before I sleep my thoughts drift
through the days moments
joy and pain
within me and not
in hope upon dawns break
I can again
-6/2007

Adieu, Mon Amour.