And in the end....

This post is a tough one -- to write and to read. It is perfectly fine to skip it if you wish. But the last few weeks of Will's life are part of the story, too. So here goes.

Will was scheduled to start chemo/immunotherapy on Thursday, May 18. We met with Dr. Pantarotta at Champalimaud first. We explained that Will was getting extremely lethargic. His blood pressure was also really, really low. It turned out that the clinic had not received the insurance authorization, so we had to delay the first treatment until Monday the 22nd. Over that weekend, Will's condition deteriorated quickly and alarmingly. He slept most of the time but when he was awake he was very confused. By Sunday, I texted with Dr. Pantarotta and told him I was alarmed. He suggested that I could take him to the emergency room at CUF Cascais. But since were were going to go to Champalimaud for his appointment at 8 a.m. we decided I would meet the doctor there. Will was very weak and extremely confused. It was only with the help of dear friend and neighbor Juan Peralta that I was able to get him into the Uber to head into Lisbon. I knew the situation was really bad.

Upon arrival at Champalimaud, Dr. Pantarotta and his team sprung into action with blood work and a CAT scan. At that point I asked the doctor if I should have Meagan fly over. He suggested I wait until later that morning and we could discuss the situation after test results were in. I was so relieved to be at the clinic and knew Will was in good hands. He was just goofy and pretty much out of it. Later that morning, Dr. Pantarotta took me aside and explained that Will was in early stage liver and pancreas failure due to metastisis of his lung cancer. His blood sugar was off the charts (700+ for those in the know). This was causing his confusion. He also told me that it was time to have Meagan come over. That was when it all became real in a hurry. Because Champalimaud does not have beds, we were transferred to the CUF Tejo Hospital very nearby in Lisbon. The doctor explained that the plan was to transfer Will to their palliative care area as soon as he was stabilized. Will spent that afternoon in an emergency area that I think would be most like a critical care unit in the US.

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When Meagan arrived the next morning, Will was still in the emergency area but he was already stabilizing and was more clear headed. He was, of course, happy to see Meagan and assured her that he was not going to leave us just yet. In the early afternoon, he was transferred up to his private room in the palliative care wing. Meagan and I were called in to a conference room to meet with the medical team -- all females, incidentally. They were gentle and completely candid with us. They explained that he was in liver failure and helped set the expectation that he would not be coming home from the hospital. This, of course, was devastating news but it was not really surprising. Once Will was settled in his room, he was comfortable and in very good hands. Meagan and I spent time together that evening on our balcony trying to make sense of it all. We also went to the Peralta's apartment for wine, Uber eats, and the comforting embrace of dear friends.

Each day, Will's cognition improved as he was stabilized. He was also really funny. We all actually spent a good bit of each day she was there laughing. Many of you know that Will really enjoyed his Marine Tracker app when we were in Cascais. He could track each of the ships that went by our apartment. Happily, his hospital room looked out on the cargo port in Lisbon. He really enjoyed watching the process of loading and unloading the big cargo ships that would sail past our balcony in Cascais. Meagan's wife, Carolyn, arrived for a few days at the end of that week. We had a wonderful visit. Will was feeling well enough to send the two of them back to Cascais, so Meagan could show her around. The three of us enjoyed a nice dinner at one of the cliffside restaurants across the street from our apartment.

Meagan and Carolyn returned to the US and I spent the last two weeks of Will's life alone with him. I want to emphasize that he was comfortable and content. He liked the food. He liked keeping an eye on the port. He liked everyone in the palliative care wing. He enjoyed holding court and we shared precious, private time toghether. I helped him develop the playlist that he wanted played at his memorial. We walked the halls together. He rocked his Hard Rock Cafe t-shirts and UNC pajama pants. Any time he expressed pain, he was given doses of morphine and fentanyl. I accused him of bringing the opiod crisis to Portugal. He was fine with that. He was grateful for the phone calls and texts with friends. So while our time was private, we were not alone. The main thing to take away from this is that he did not suffer.

Will enjoyed a visit from Mara, Juan, Matias, and Lizzy Peralta. At first he was concerned that he would get teary the visit actually was a happy one. The smiles you see in the photos were genuine.

One on his nurses came in on her day off and brought in her Polaroid camera. I was not there but she took this great photo of the two of them. It is a favorite of mine.

I spent the last five days camping out at the hospital over night. At first, Will was alarmed by this (as the doctor's had warned me). I explained that I didn't see the point of each of us being separately alone, lonely, and worried at night. After the first night, we both agreed that it was better to be together and even have breakfast together. A day or two before Will died, I woke up and he was messing around with him bed. He raised it up as far as it would go. He was actually pretty hilarious about it. I love this picture, too, because it is quintessential Will.

On the afternoon of June 13, Will started getting very antsy and a bit agitated. His cognition also declined. In the late afternoon, he was given a sedative of some kind and he slept very peacefully. His agitation returned in the middle of the night. Again, the doctors had warned me this would happen. Evidently, it is a result of the the toxins caused by the liver failure. He was sedated again. I held his hand through the night as he slept and just peacefully faded away in the early morning of June 14.

The palliative care team of doctrors, nurses, and techs offered amazing comfort and afforded Will a dignified death surrounded by care and love.