Through the month of February, as Jay’s medication was decreased, we spent time doing things we did not normally do. We went out on Valentine’s Day, he bought me the first jewelry he had bought since my engagement ring, and we went out to a fancy restaurant for dinner. Jay tried to cram in as many good memories as he could into that last month, but I knew it was costing him.

Jay’s next doctor’s appointment was scheduled for March 2, and we knew they were going to decrease his medications again. The night before, he woke me up to tell me it was time. I knew what that meant, but I tried to be strong for his sake. We talked all night long about what it meant, and how it should be. It was the saddest, strangest, longest night of my life.

Jay knew he did not have enough pills to kill himself. He also knew that if he were to try and purchase a gun, they would not sell it to him. It would have been almost obvious what he was going to use it for.

In the end, I bought the gun that Jay used -- and yes, we talked about the ramifications of that action. We went to the park where we had renewed our vows in 2015. We talked in the car for a while, and then we sat in the same place we had cut our wedding cake. I was holding his hand when he pulled the trigger. .

Through the shock and horror, my immediate feeling was one of relief for Jay. To know that he was finally out of pain was a weight lifted off both of us.

Because I purchased the gun that Jay used to end his life, I was charged under our state's assisted suicide law. This charge was later reduced to reckless endangerment, and I am currently on probation. People close to me want me to be quiet about my role in Jay’s death, and I was at first. But I cannot continue that way.

I know Jay wanted me to put his story out there. I know he wanted people to know what it was like to live with the pain he lived with daily. When the doctor took away Jay’s medications, they took away his quality of life. That was what led to his decision. Jay fought hard to live with his pain for a long time, but in the end fighting just was not enough.

Something has to be done to wake up the doctors, insurers and regulators to make them see pain patients as real people. People with husbands, wives and children that love them. People that are suffering and just barely holding on.