MA, I am sorry. Not pity sorry, but sympathy sorry. Not, "poor you!" but more like "geez, what a rotten time you've got right now."
I haven't any advice. What I have is a trip to OR next week, and I'd like to come kidnap you and take you for a lunch somewhere. Anywhere. Just away, and just a wee 90 minute break with a meal in there. And then I could hug you in person. I'm even willing to come over and help around the house for a bit, if you could use that. Muck out a stall, wash up some dishes, cook some food for you both...smells don't get me; I've sat through several autopsies, so smelly wounds aren't really an issue.
Remember that caring for Mike means you have to stay healthy and sane yourself. And that means food, breaks, sleep, and moments outside by yourself, no-one needing something from you for just a few minutes (no animals, no hubby...no-one), and moments where you can cry and scream out your fears, anger and frustration.
Even if you won't come out for lunch, know that you're loved, thought about, and "vibed" from down here in SoCa.
You've got my number. Now's a good time to use it...and no, it's no problem.