Dying Brings Her Fulfillment

I was deep in thought as to how to begin telling you this story. Where should I begin? Some stories in here have lots of flashbacks which , if more than a few, really confuse me, On the other hand, I couldn't just write the story from the back forwards. That would make no sense at all. However, if I started at the uninteresting beginning, I might lose many readers in the details of a somewhat irrelevant history. Where to begin? My brother, a famous author, told me to just sit down and start writing, then go back and edit. So Here I go. Thanks to Techscan for editing.

She was gradually developing more muscle weakness but still had her fighting spirit. I worried about her mental status what with the metastasis in her brain. She knew she was dying. We had talked about it extensively privately and with our pastor in attendance for support. She had gone through the stages of dying and now was at peace with herself. I made the difficult emotional journey with her. Perhaps I was not as prepared to lose her as she was prepared to die. My days were filled with both sadness and joy. Sadness for the impending death and loss of my life's partner. Joy for having developed such a deep bond of love. Although we had been married only a few years, I felt as if we had bonded like we had been married for fifty years. Facing death together was bitter sweet.

We had been deeply religious all of our lives, strictly and joyously monogamous. The sorrow I felt had only increased the love we shared as her end loomed yet nearer and nearer. We had always been a touchy feely couple. This mutual need for soft, gentle and reassuring physical contact seemed to increase. Our sex gradually took on a more and more spiritual bonding aspect. The rough and ready type of sex we occasionally had enjoyed was left in the past as we truly made love now, and we still did it frequently. We were one in body and spirit. We both enjoyed cuddling and promising to give and received the intimate bond of trust. love and fidelity. The fidelity bit was implied as we both had always been firmly committed to our marriage vows. Neither had any thoughts of infidelity, or so it seemed. That was something we didn't have to reassure each other about.

As it turned out, suddenly I was no longer at peace with her as I had been. What she now revealed as part of her immediate future was unbelievable to me.

Her latest idea of cramming in all the experiences of a life time into the several remaining months, was suddenly revealed as quite different than what I anticipated. Yes, we had gone to Disney World and Epcot Center. We had also gone to several of the national parks and even to Washington DC. But this last idea of experiencing all that life had to offer had thrown the proverbial wrench into the gears and I was the one getting ground up. Strange how the ultimate changed her. The devil had invaded our garden of Eden and my beautiful sexy wife had taken a bite of the forbidden fruit. Now she thrust it to me. Was my reality hers? Hurt, initially confused, shock, unbelief and devastation all inundated me as these came careening and screaming down, trying to bury this former first lieutenant paratrooper unit commander.

Now it is time for the flashback.

We met four years ago. She was a vibrant blond, a first generation Swedish American. She spoke with a softness that completely captured my heart. Indeed she was a beautiful girl. To me, she seemed perfectly transparent in expressing her feelings. The mutual magnetism seemed divinely planned. She was medium height at five feet five inches and a robust 115 pounds of energy, enthusiasm and ardor. Her skin was almost translucent white. My mom said her skin was like 'milk glass'. Her blue eyes and dark blond hair gave her a picture perfect face. Her medium length hair had a way of floating softly behind her as she walked. Her hour glass body reeked of sexual attraction and eroticism. She was every mans wet dream come true, but she was only and always mine. As it turns out, she lost her innocence on our wedding night. I was totally enthralled. She took to me like a duck to water and I took to her like a duck to the proverbial June bug. We were a pair from the git go.

She was an E.R. nurse in her first year on the job after nursing school. She was already experienced having worked as a nurses assistant in the same university hospital where I was in an E.R residency. It was in July, the first month of my first year out of med school that we met at work in the E.R. She was efficient and easily took command of some difficult situations. I was impressed as I to had had command experience earlier in my life. I was a bit older than her, having served in the military after college and prior to medical school. I had had command of an army platoon of parachutist. On one night time training jump at what was supposed to be at minimum jump altitude, we had bailed out but the pilot was below minimums. Of my platoon, three died and, to a man, all the others were injured, myself included with three fractured vertebra. Within six months I was prematurely discharged as "disabled" but in fact, I had no continuing disability. Just the record of the fractures on my record.

This gave me great VA benefits which saw me through medical school. I was still six foot one but an inch shorter than when I enlisted and later commissioned via the ROTC. My weight had been maintained at 190 and constant workouts kept me physically fit.

Sherrie and I hit it off immediately. She was fluent in Swedish as her first language and also German and of course English which she spoke with a distinct Swedish accent. Her parents spoke Swedish exclusively at home and Sherrie learned English only after beginning school. I spoke German fairly decently thanks to an early deployment to Germany plus my mother was a first generation immigrant German American. I learned Swedish from my attentive bride. We could and did converse in all of three languages

We frequently made love making random use of each of the three languages we both shared. I might tell her how luscious her nipples and C cup breasts were in Swedish and she might respond in German about my manhood. However there is nothing quite so sensual as making love totally in Swedish. I had learned all the proper anatomical names of the human body in all three languages and Sherrie taught me the street names in Swedish while I taught her the street names in English and German We would giggle when I mispronounced in Swedish, parts of her anatomy. We enjoyed an active, varied and very fulfilling sex life together.

Even though we had been married only three years now, we had still shared fantasies that we knew would never come about in real life. In fact, neither of us wanted the fantasies to become real. We had promised each other, our families and God that we would "forsake all others, clinging only to the other". We did this joyously. We fucked each others bodies in complete abandon and total confidence, enjoying every orifice to the full. Every room in our house had been baptized with our sex fluids. The back seat of our cars were not excluded either. We communicated our needs and desires exceptionally well. We loved God, our families and each other. Now our love had grown to include our bundle of joy and dirty diapers.

During intercourse as my 8 plus inch thin cock with its upward curvature penetrated her warm tight vagina, I would whisper, 'this is Jerrod fucking you with my twelve inch massive black cock' and other such silliness. She would respond in another language by imploring Jerrod to go faster and deeper as she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me into her with her hands clenching my buttocks.

We had learned how to pace ourselves so that many of our climaxes came together. I really liked for her to come first so that her vaginal spasms would take me over the moon and I would climax just as she was finishing her vaginal twittering and spasming. To sum it up, we enjoyed each others bodies, minds and souls. The birth of our daughter, Diane, put us on hold only for a few weeks. During this time I had purchased a vibrator to please her, and for her to please herself with until it was safe to resume vagina penetration. As a joke, I also bought a black penis style vibrator that also rotated at the tip. She wouldn't use it because she said it was to life like and implied infidelity. She used the other vibrator and we continued to use it even after we restarted vaginal intercourse. The black cock was relegated to the back of our clothes closet somewhere. Basically it was lost. Life was more than good.

I completed the three year residency last year. We now worked the same shifts frequently and as often as the schedules permitted.

Six months ago, as I was washing her back after a very satisfying afternoon sexual encounter. As I dried her off, having stepped out of the shower into the brighter light of the bathroom I noted a tiny black dot on her left shoulder blade (scapula). I rubbed it, thinking it was a bit of dirt I had missed. It didn't budge. I touched it with my bare finger and it was not flat like a freckle. I felt it again and it was imbedded in her skin. Thinking it was perhaps a bit of dirt I took the towel and dried her off harder only to find that it bled but didn't let loose. I became very concerned as her skin was very white and she didn't tan well.

I said nothing to her at that time but I put on a small spot band aid and told her I had rubbed a mole to hard. It was at a place she could see only with a mirror so she had been unaware of it. The next day we were in the surgeons office where he immediately did a wide excision and sent the specimen off to the path lab. He took a handful of stitches to close wide excision. He told us to wait for the path report before thinking or doing anything else.

It was only a week later that the sutures were to be taken out. When we returned for that, he had the path report. After removing the sutures and applying some steri-strips and light bandage, he invited us into his office for a conference.

Sherrie and I both knew what he had to say as he had not said anything yet about the lesion being "benign".

It was cancer of the worst kind. Not only was it a malignant melanoma but it had already deeply invaded in spite of its very small circumferential size. We all knew what that meant. (This type invasive melanoma is a killer.) She began to tear up as I held her. My heart was broken but the surgeon held out some hope for us.

Seems that he was participating in a new research project using an approach which was in phase three clinical trials at the university hospital where we both worked and from which we both had our training. This new regimen involved changes in diet plus a combination of research medications. The side effects were largely unknown at this point. The human side effects were totally unknown but, hey, we both wanted our best chance so we decided to go for it.

That very afternoon we visited the oncologist chief investigator and got signed up for the program. Many legal releases were signed. At this point, Sherrie underwent a series of blood tests and examinations including cranial CAT scans and upper endoscopies plus a variety of other imaging and lab tests to detect any metastasis.

These tests all turned out negative for which we were very grateful. Nevertheless, the probability of metastases was high as the pathologic tumor grade was the highest, bad tumor markers were positive and the early deep invasion was a very bad prognostic sign.

We decided to make the most of life as we had it. We had a will and legal papers drawn up for a living will with me as her terminal guardian. Sex became even more intensive as Sherrie made obvious efforts to enjoy life to it's fullest. Of course I didn't object.

Three weeks after beginning therapy, Sherrie noted that her clitoris was enlarging as were her nipples. The oncologist made note of this but had little else to say as the medications were purely research and the side effects were just now being even recorded. Sherrie told me that her orgasms were intensifying as her clitoris enlarged and grew more sensitive. The same was true for her nipples which were changing color to a much lighter color. Her dark blond hair began to change to almost pure white as it grew out. She never lost her hair as many cancer patients do. Her deep blue eyes were becoming lighter. Her night vision began to decrease and the ophthalmologist told us her retinas, which are naturally black with pigment, were becoming pale. All these changes were medication induced. Sherrie worried about becoming blind but we were reassured that this would not happen. The medication was acting on the cells that produce melanin, the coloring that makes the skin tan and the melanoma black. The hopes were that these changes were protecting her from metastatic growth . Sherrie and I prayed for this separately and together.

Our lives continued but Sherrie quit her E.R. RN job to stay with and enjoy our growing daughter. Sherrie's health seemed to be excellent. We were hopeful but secretly I knew both of us had the fear still. We talked about it but that didn't make it go away. We both tried to encourage the other with hope piling upon hope yet the fear of recurrence remained.

Four months after the original surgery, I came home to find Sherrie lying on the kitchen floor in a state of almost continuous seizures. Our daughter was sitting next to her crying "Mommy, Mommy" and rubbing her arm. I had no idea how long this had been going on. I checked her pulse and respiration and was encouraged to find her quite alive but totally unresponsive except to deep pain from which she withdrew She was in a deep coma and still convulsing intermittently. Her life was in imminent danger.

Immediately I called 911 and in only four minutes she was being bundled up and transported to university hospital E.R where I had just departed some twenty minutes earlier. At the E.R. her seizures could not be controlled with the standard drugs IV. Anesthesia was finally called and she was put under. Finally with deep anesthesia and muscles paralyzing drugs, her seizures were controlled but she had to be intubated and put on the ventilator.

The neurology service was already in attendance and the chief of neurology actually came personally to attend my wife. A variety of medications were given and she was allowed to come out of deep anesthesia. Of course she had tubes in her stomach through her nose and throat and several IV's going. Additionally there was continuous EEG and EKG monitoring. We had been taken to the Neuro Intensive Care Unit. I had left my daughter in the hospitals 24 hour day care temporarily. I called the hospital social services and told them I needed help in caring for our daughter for a few days. It was now well after closing hours but the director was a friend and church member where Sherrie and I attended. She personally took our daughter home and then placed her with one of Sherrie's close friends the next morning.

As you can understand I was beaten down feeling. I stayed with Sherrie over night which was prohibited officially but allowed as to how most everyone knew us personally and professionally. During the night Sherrie began to come around. Anesthesia extubated her with out difficulty. The EEG continued to be abnormal with spikes from the right frontal-parietal region for right dominant individuals as Sherrie was. This is the part of the brain that deals with perception, ideas, language etc. She had no more seizures and by morning was fully awake and hungry but hoarse due to the tube that had been in her throat. She remembered nothing of the incident. Sherrie asked about our daughter and, upon knowing she was okay, expressed relief and gratitude for all the help she had received.

Later that same morning, Sherrie was taken to the MRI unit where she had an MRI of the brain. She returned to the neuro intensive care unit and her monitoring continued. Now she was getting blood levels of the anti convulsants she was getting by mouth. She was eating a light meal normally but having some perceptual problems. The room seemed to move when it was actually quite stable. She said she was having both auditory and visual hallucinations. None of these were scary to her. For some reason they seemed to be pleasant, not threatening yet she did recognize them as hallucinations. The vertigo relented within a few hours after the IV medications were terminated.

Our neurologist called in the psychiatrist which was on the research team for the anti cancer meds she had been taking and now had been restarted. The report of the MRI was sent up to the unit that afternoon. The neuro service shared it with me. It was the worst news possible. There was a single grape sized lesion in her brain. We all knew it was most likely metastatic from the melanoma that had been on her shoulder only a few months ago. My life came crashing down on me again.

I called Sherrie's parents then my parents, both of whom lived out of town but nearby. We all cried together as the news was conveyed to them. Next I had to tell Sherrie. Nothing has ever been so hard as to tell her of the metastatic cancer in her brain. I had insisted that I be the one to tell her in the presence of the chief of neurology. He strongly suggested that a brain biopsy be done to confirm the diagnosis. Sherrie and I had been to the wilds of South America where our daughter was actually conceived. This had been on a short term medical mission. The neurologist wanted to be sure of the diagnosis plus he wanted proof for the research project also. I prayed it would be an echinococcal cyst or some other treatable disorder. If it was cancer, we knew that the medicines she had been taking had been ineffective and had also left her with an enlarged super sensitive clitoris and nipples.

Even in the neuro ICU I caught Sherrie playing with herself under the sheet covering her naked body. I warned her not to go to climax as she might seize again so she quit masturbating herself. I found this behavior to be most unusual for her as she had never shown any exhibitionist tendencies. I passed it off temporarily but didn't forget it.

Sherrie took the news gently but with tears in her eyes. Her only statement was a request to me to promise to take care of our daughter. This I promised but was taken back at her request as this was a long term "given". I guess real mothers just have to reassured that their children will be okay.

The next day Sherrie was taken to the O.R. where a brain biopsy was done with out difficulty. She had general anesthesia which lasted less than fifteen minutes. She was back in the ICU in less than an hour total and fully awake in another hour. The neurosurgeon called me aside and told me the biopsy was going to be positive as the core needle biopsy was coal black in color, typical of metastatic pigmented melanoma.

We discussed the possibility of surgery. The MRI did not reveal other metastases. The neurosurgeon was very negative toward that so that was the end of that. We all agreed to keep her in the research protocol in spite of the side effects and apparent ineffectiveness of the anti-tumor medicines. We wanted to take any chance available but knew in our hearts that her life was near its end.

The next day Sherrie was discharged after final blood tests were drawn for medication levels. She had no more seizures. I took her home and picked up our daughter the next day. Sherrie was able to function pretty normally and was taking good care of our off spring. The only worrisome thing was her "hallucinations". I wasn't sure these were medication or tumor induced. Certainly her clitoral and nipple enlargements and sensitivities were research medication induced.