KarenK

Thank you, Mary, for sharing this. I will show it to Robert the next time he drops by. We loved our "Brownie" very much and though I knew the cost would be enormous to try and save her, I could not have lived with myself if we hadn't at least tried. Last year, we had lost "Riley" at age twenty three, but it was a peaceful death. Their ashes sit side by side, as they were in life. Karen

Oh Mary, No offense taken at all. When I noticed that you referenced csn & "Wolfen", I knew it was me. I just wanted Marty to know that I had no idea who "Wifeless" is. I googled "Unique and Devastating Loss", which he titled it and just noticed that it is referenced on several sites and may have originated on a Young Widow/Widowers site a few years ago. Hope you are having a good day. Karen

Marty, Just wanted to let you know that I am "Wolfen" on Cancer Survivor's Network. I joined in 2009 to support my daughter and have made wonderful friends there, also. It is actually the only other forum I belong to. While I was searching the Internet in search of grief support groups, I found this written by Wifeless. He simply stated that he wrote it. I don't remember which group he was part of. It just seemed to "ring true", so I have kept it and recently shared it with a new member grieving on CSN, who I also suggested this site to. I may have shared it in my "Rabbit Hole" post also. I'd have to look back through it. Karen

Thanks, Mary. Now, who is that funny looking old woman in the picture? LOL Karen

Hi Mary, Thanks for adding the link. I found us! If you click on the Photos section, we are in the 17th row down(row below the Fourth of July statement), 2nd picture to the right. I'm in a blue shirt holding a picture and my son, Robert is kneeling with Tatum. I also saw on the front page where it shows Facebook visitors(right hand side), my granddaughter, Michelle and her new husband, Harvey Pennington. Of course, I can't open the whole picture, not being a member. They are in Kentucky & I have not met him yet. Karen Wow! Not being a "Facebooker", maybe I am missing out. LOL I went back to see if my grandson in Kentucky, Paul Bailey was there and he is also, but I see the pictures are moving around. I saw a lot of Robert's friends I remember from school on there also.

Hope everyone is having a good afternoon. My post is sad, but with a happy ending. Ten years ago, my son recued "Brownie", a young lady of undetermined heritage(Lab-Shepherd?), 6 months old. She was just the best and stayed faithful throughout many bad times he had. After we lost Ron, we decided to make a trip to the cabin for cleanout. All you had to say was "Pinewood" to Brownie & she was ready to go, a true Jeep traveler. As she had done so many times before, she leaped for the jeep, but fell flat on her stomach. Robert thought she had merely knocked the wind out, so placed her inside and proceeded over here. But she couldn't get up or walk. We took her too the nearby vet where it was detemined she had ruptured her spleen. The vet operated & it was touch & go, but her heart gave out. We were devastated for another time in May. We postponed our trip for a few weeks and discovered upon arriving in Flagstaff that they were having a "rescue event" in the park. Now, you really have to let a dog choose you and while looking around, "Tatum" chose us. She is, best guess, Lab-Border Collie-Pit. also 6 months old, & a big bundle of energy with lots of kisses. She a blessing in our lives, and just maybe, Brownie sent her to us. Being old, my cat "Batman" would rather ignore here, but he is beginning to tolerate her. When she calms down, maybe they will become friends as he & my black lab were. I don't do Facebook, but was told there is a picture of us there on Humane Society of Sedona. Karen

If only we could control our thoughts and let only the pleasant ones surface, or perhaps shut them off for a while. Our worlds as we once knew them have been turned upside down. I, for one, cannot sleep until I am literally dizzy with exhaustion and then only in small increments. I have short, senseless dreams that jerk me awake. They are not nightmares, only frightening in that they make no sense at all. I suppose that's a reflection of the stress. Try as I might, I cannot stifle the thought that I will forever be alone now. I don't want a new person. I want the old one back, minus his pain and suffering. I want to tell him the many things I might have failed to say, even over forty years. But that can't be and it leaves me filled with sadness. I apologize for my negativity, but I am very tired right now. Karen

We used to eat out frequently before Ron's cancer, but eating out alone is not really on my agenda. On my few excursions from the house, I have stopped by a few of our favorite restaurants and gotten take-out. There is just something about being alone in a restaurant that seems so sad to me. Yes, Stephen, I have a long history with our mountain cabin. My parents built it in 1970. It is near Flagstaff and was never meant to be a year round place, no heat except the fireplace and can get pretty darn cold in the winter. It would require some major upgrades, including a garage, another bathroom & bedroom to be comfortable for my son, grandson, & me full time. Realistically, I know I could not live there alone, as much as I want to. The easy solution to some of my financial problems would just be to sell it, but I do not give up easily. My son is planning to sell his place and move into my "underwater" home here with me, while purchasing the cabin from me. That way we can keep it in the family. All of this is dependent on him finding employment, which, being a recent graduate has not happened yet, so Mom is kind of supporting all three places right now. It was always supposed to be his anyway. That's the best plan I can come up with right now, but have learned situations can change in a heartbeat, as we all know. I seem to be getting a little more tired each day, even with a bit of sleep. A lot of it is just mentally tired, trying to figure out how to survive. I just don't seem to be able to get going. I think about going to the mall & then I think "What for?". It's not like I need to buy anything and just a waste of gas. I've only been to the cemetery once on Father's Day to place flowers on Ron's & my Father's grave. It is especially hard to face that tiny plastic marker, not knowing when I will ever be able to place a proper one. I cannot think of Ron being there beside my parents. I like to think of him riding through Monument Valley with his buddy John Wayne, or asleep under a tree in the forest which he loved. He was the son of a W. Va. coal miner and became an aerospace welder. He even worked for NASA and some of his work sits on the moon, but he never lost his love of nature and the wilderness. Here, I find myself rambling on again. It's just nice to have you all to talk to. Karen

Stephen, Thank you joining my post. I'm so sorry that you lost your angel. I was touched by your comments in your profile. I see also that you are in my area. I have been here for a very long time, since it was a "one horse town". I smiled at your comment about buying duplicate items. I am not a "clothes horse", except for boots. Don't let me loose in a Western store. LOL When my son & I began our "cleanup", we found so many duplicates of wrench sets, hand tools, powers tools, etc., four or more apiece, a lot of them new in boxes. Ron also thought that duplicates were a necessity. I know that some men feel real pride of ownership in their tools, probably as some women feel about their jewelry. I've removed things from our vacation home in case it becomes necessary to sell it. I'm not yet ready to part with all the personal things here. Selling that place will be another heartbreak as it was our escape. Strangely enough, this old house holds no special meaning for me, only memories of the man I loved, and they are in my heart. Karen

Arlene, My heart broke for you as I read your words. No, I don't think we are ever prepared, unless we happen to be a person who deals with death on a daily basis. I was with Ron in his final moments and was told what to expect, but it was only shock and disbelief that registered. He did not know that any of us were nearby as he lost consciousness long before he slipped away. In this arena, I don't think it matters that you don't know exactly what to say. Just say something, anything to let someone else know that you are hurting or want to share something that is in your heart. That is what I do. Who is to judge what degree of "better" we are? Am I better than I was the first month? Probably. I know I am different. I wish I had an answer for you. I completed my mission to the thrift shop with my donations, and being a woman, had to go inside to look around. They had quite nice things, much nicer & cleaner than other "thrift stores". I ended up buying a like new Southwestern style sofa for very little money to replace my broken down one. My son met me there to check it out and in the process, he bought one also. I managed to get both sofas to each of our homes shortly before the impending rainstorm hit. I finished the rest of my errands in a downpour, but I'm not afraid of a little rain. Got my meds for my jaw infection and books and movies from the library, so my week is going pretty good, so far. Tomorrow is a new day. Karen

I thank each of you for your thoughts and completely understand what you mean. I would not be an asset to anyone's organization at the moment. When I reach that point where I can say "I lost my husband" without breaking down and feeling the need to communicate each horrible detail, I will be ready to offer my sevices. It would be a disservice, otherwise and not helping anyone. But it does give me a goal for the future. For right now, I guess I just want to try and get back to some facet of normalcy. Sitting and staring at these walls is not it. Getting out of the house and learning to be alone is my first step. Believe it or not, I do understand the ramifications of Ron's death, personally, financially, & otherwise. I have only myself to depend on, now. He always worried about leaving me alone. I told him that I would be alright, and I truly will. Off to the thrift store to donate, now. Karen

I have been sitting here trying to formulate these thoughts without writing a book, as I know my posts are sometimes lengthy. Late last night, as I sat and read some of the posts, I realized how selfish I have been. Each of us have suffered a horrific loss, but ALL of you come to me with love, concern, comfort, advice & warm "cyber" hugs, while I can offer little in return except anger ,sadness, & "woe is me". There are so many less fortunate right now than I am. I think of Shannon, fighting for her life without the love of her life, and so many with health problems, etc., while I have my health, a roof over my head,(for the moment, anyway), food in my fridge, and part of my family nearby, and I am ashamed. I realized that one of the most important things I am missing is not someone to care for me, but someone or something that needs MY HELP. For so many years, I had a purpose. That purpose was to love, comfort, share with, and care for Ron. Obviously, Ron no longer needs me and when he left, he took my purpose with him. I have a special friend on CSN named Craig, who, among other things, is a very fine writer. He writes from the heart to try and help cancer patients on their journey through this devastating disease. He recently found out that one of his writings is finally going to be published in a medical magazine and the very next day found out that his nine year batlle with cancer is starting again for the fourth time. Please say a prayer for my friend. One of his topics is "Repurposing Our Lives". Cancer changes each of us, whether we are a patient or a caregiver, just as a loss like ours has done. We all have to find that new purpose in our lives. I am going to get out of this house and start looking for my new purpose. Ron would not want me to sit here & "rot away". I noticed on the HOV news from Marty that there is a thrift store not far away that could use some donations. I'm going to start by taking some things there. I don't have money, but perhaps a couple of extra helping hands would be welcome. At least I would feel that I am contributing something to some else's welfare. Hope everyone has a good day. Karen

Thank you, Arlene, for your warm welcome. I'm so sorry for the loss of your husband. I was in no way prepared for Ron's loss, but I suppose, in my heart, I knew it was coming. After reading the treatment info. on H&N cancer, I think we both knew his body could not withstand the treatments, especially after having gone through so many medical nightmares beforehand. For now, I suppose I remain in the numbness/anger stage of it all. I rarely cry. There is no one to hear and no one to get an encouraging hug from. I'm also sorry about your health problems. I know that being alone when not feeling well just makes it worse because the person who always comforted you is not nearby. You mentioned on another post that you had lost your Mom after she had gotten Dementia. I too, "lost " my Mom in 2000 when she had a massive stroke. After the stroke, she was mobile, but fragile and had lost her ability to communicate. She could no longer read, write, or speak without gibberish. On rare occasions, it was as if a tiny light bulb came on and she would put three or four words together. This was a woman who had been the secretary to a U.S. Congressman. It was so very sad and it must have been hell on earth for her. She could never return home from the hospital & I had to place her in a beautiful care home in north Phoenix, where she lived until her death in 2006. It haunts me to remember her as I left each visit with her forlornly standing there saying "I go with you?" and my not being able to explain that I had to go to work. Or the weekends when I would bring her here, and she would sit in the kitchen with tears and say "I tupid". There was no way for me to let her know that she wasn't stupid, but that she had a stroke. I cannot imagine the mental angiush she must have endured all those years. Although Ron's death is devastating to me, I suppose I must be gratelful that he did not suffer the long, agonizing mental pain I'm sure she had combined with the agonizing physical pain he was suffering. His greatest fear was to die in agony as his father(with cancer) had many years ago or to die insane connected to life support as his mother did after falling and becoming an instant quadruplegic. Ron had seen enough and been through enough in his lifetime and maybe his "God" understood and spared him that. I try very hard to accept whatever comes my way. I do not expect much from life. I have simply learned that happiness to any extent is not part of my agenda and I take it from there. Karen

Mary, Your description of our "ride" is so accurate. It is so like the "ride" my daughter and all of us who love her are on. The diagnosis of Stage IV, the treatments, the "scanxiety" of waiting for the results of the next scan and the cycle repeats itself over & over until one day that ride becomes "our" ride. I can never forget the moment that Ron was being lowered into the ground. She was by my side & broke down crying, "Mama, mama, soon that will be me." I could only comfort her by telling her that it was not yet near her time, but in my heart, I died twice that day. Karen

Anne, In my case, weekends are no different from any other day. With both of us being retired, each day's routine was much the same until the cancer diagnosis. Of course, each weekday then revolved around whatever aptts. were scheduled. Those became the only time we left the house together. I suppose what you are feeling sort of relates to my desire to be around people, just not converse with them yet, for fear of breaking down and not being accepted. I've noticed that there are local "meetup" groups, but they seem to be aimed at dating. There are a few "Widows" support groups which meet for activities, but most of them describe the wonderful time they had at a particular function. I suppose I'm not ready for that wonderful time, yet. Perhaps one of the keys to finding our "new" normal is not to focus on what we used to look forward, but to focus on new things that interest us. I know how hard that is, especially when you are swimming like mad to get to the surface. I can't imagine traveling any great distance without Ron, although I'm perfectly cabable of doing it. It would just be a little scary, leaving my "comfort" zone. Seeing a person our age eating alone in a restaurant always seemed so sad and not something I would relish the thought of doing. As I type this, I wonder why we never asked that person to join us. In an unfortunate way, I guess it's because there are so many less than sane people in today's world. It's hard enough to trust a friend, much less a stranger. I think clubbing and bars is for the much younger set. Like many others, "been there, done" that, pre-Ron. I have considered joining a bowling league(if I can still throw a ball), but that requires face-to-face communication which I may not be ready for. We belonged to one for many years until his partial foot removal. In one league, when we were about 40 years old, there was a lonely "older" woman who was always chasing Ron. I don't want to become that "old" woman. I don't think we'll be stuck in "limbo" forever. It just seems like it right now. Each of us will find their own way out of this "fog" when the time is right for us. While I have you "on the phone", please tell me what your hobby "pinning" is. I've not heard of it before. Karen

Thank you for your welcome, Deborah. I'm so sorry that you have lost Larry and are having health isuues precipitated by his loss. It seems so many of us have experienced the less than stellar perfomance of our medical "experts". In reality, we are no longer living,breathing human beings, only another number to be "crunched". In the first few days following Ron's death, I actually felt hurt that his Cardio of 10 years did not even bother to acknowledge his death. I got a sincere call & card from only the nurse who monitored his Carelink machine all those years. I did get one other card also from the staff @ MD Anderson where he was being treated. At the time, I thought surely more people cared, but they didn't and life is hard. I do remember that HOV called and offered assistance which was kind, but I declined. I have few health issues but secondary to Ron's loss, is my daughters' health, followed by the never ending financial difficulties which a lot of us face. And of course, in addition to normal living expense and bills, I seem to get new "surprise" medical bills constantly, despite having insurance. Juggling has now become the name of that game. No ASU for me, Anne, although I live nearby. My son recently graduated Summa Cum Laude from Scottsdale Community College with Associates in Science & Arts. He never got less than an "A" on any test in any subject. We were so very proud. Unfortunately we buried his father two days before graduation. He placed the invitation in his father's casket and said "I made it, Dad". He had only myself and his son to applaud. It was a solemn event for all of us. He planned to continue his education at ASU, but that is on hold now as he searches for a job to help me financially. The job market is very tough right now, so time will tell. Nope, I don't think I've seen you on the "Wanted" posters, either. Is there something you're not telling us? LOL I think each of us is supposed to have a doppleganger, so maybe I saw yours. I've not seen a counselor, but chose instead to join this group of peers. I live very near to a senior center with has meetings presented by HOV twice a month. I still plan to check those out. Well, still trying to find sleep, but it is hiding. Will talk to you later, my friends. Karen

The first thing I want to know, Anne, is what you were doing up posting before 4 AM. None of my business, I know, but my excuse is excruciating pain in my left jaw. I look like a chipmunk. I had a filling replaced last Monday, but I have a tendency to get mouth infections despite all the brushing, etc. that I do. I finally broke down & took some pain meds(those I have nothing against taking) & will call the dentist on Monday. My fellow hikers. Although I've lived in Arizona since 1956, I've never taken on the task of hiking Grand Canyon. In our younger, fitter days, we did a lot of wilderness hiking where you didn't see another soul. I've done some hiking in Zion and all over northern Az. I also like to go caving. Have been in Mammoth cave in Kentucky a couple of times and various others, including lava tubes. Would love to start again, but here's another case of the ol' body wouldn' make it. My favorite place of all to visit is the Tetons. No hiking for me there. I was always on horseback. That was MANY years ago. I had been wanting to return for 50 years and so in 2008, we went there and Yellowstone. They say you can never go back. The scenery was still beautiful, but I was crushed at what Jackson had become. It's nothing more than downtown Scottsdale with a much nicer view. Who wants to pay $20 for a burger? Ron was just in awe, especially with Yellowstone, despite the fire damage. Most of the sightseeing was from the truck as Ron did not walk well due to a partial foot removal in 2000. Another STUPID medical mistake which further altered his lifestyle. Anyway, I finally had a chance to get my desire fulfilled. I've also never been out of the country, but there are many beautiful places here. My daughter lives in south central Kentucky. It is beautiful & so green in the summer, but really humid. Anne, your face looks so familiar to me. I thought maybe we had met, but you are way on the other side of the valley from me, so chances of that are slim. I noticed Liza & I are in the same place so maybe our paths have crossed. Well, back to the recliner with the ice pack. No sleep for me! Karen

Hello My Friends, I searched and searched through all of our photo albumns to find a picture of myself and Ron. We've done a lot of traveling throughout the southwestern USA and I have many beautiful scenic momentos, but not one of the two of us together. One of us was always taking the picture. With my limited computer knowledge, I managed to scan & size this one of me. It will have to do. This was taken ouside a small store in Zuni, NM. The local artist had painted beautiful murals on the building. He also paints drums and over the years, I have purchased a half dozen. I love Native American art, jewelry, & pottery. I wanted to share something that my daughter sent to me. She has been helping to clean out the home of a relative near her who can no longer live alone, and she found this among some old papers. Many of you may already be familiar with it. God saw he was getting tired and a cure was not to be So He put His arms around him and whispered"Come with Me" With tearful eyes we watched him and saw him fade away Although we loved him dearly we could not make him stay A golden heart stopped beating, hard working hands to rest God broke our hearts to prove to us He only takes the best! Karen

Anne, Being a "newbie", I did not realize that you were having problems with your heart. I just want to tell you to take care of yourself. Take that Lasix. I know all too well what could happen if you stop. The getting older and not being able to do all the things we once did is definitely a downer. "The heart is willing, but the body ain't." Although I do not appear to have a heart problem, I have had high BP for many years. I take 100 mg Atenolol, 20/25 mg Lisinopril HCT, a garlic pill, and an 81 mg Aspirin each day which controls it to a liveable point. I did have an EKG, Echo, & stress test last year and all results were acceptable. I'm sure the techs had their laugh for the day during my stress test. Nobody told me not to wear cowboy boots for that one. I'm sure I sounded like an old mule clomping along. Your Friend, Karen

It truly was exhausting to write all that as I mentally relived each moment, but it was important to me to just "get it out" and share it with those who might understand. I'm sure that my trauma is no more severe than any of yours here. We were in a 24/7 race against time for 6 months and lost that race. At first, it was hard to realize that the race had ended and that I was no longer responsible for another person's well being. You see, I have been taking care of "someone" since I was 16 years old when my daughter was born. My son was born when she was 14, so I started all over again. When my son was 7, Ron's illnesses began, and then when my son was 16, his son was born. My son has been a single parent(with Mom & Dad's help) since that time. His girlfriend thought that Motherhood ended when she got off the delivery table and has never looked back. My grandson is now 18. It looks like I have finally reached the end of my "caregiving" days. I would not trade a moment of them. I suppose that logic tells me that it is better that the race ended when it did. If Ron had somehow survived all that, he would still have faced the brutal H&N radiation treatments which are among the worst for cancer patients. In his case, no surgery was possible due to the location and all his other medical conditions. Since I was not in his head, I can only assume that his passing was peaceful, in it's own way and he was able to skip the rest of the agony. I try to think of this as a positive thing, but as you know, your heart knows no logic. The night that he died was very hard as I lay next to the empty bed provided by Hospice which was now devoid of sheets, but could not be picked up for a couple of days. I don't know if anyone else did this, but I cleaned out all the meds & supplements that he had been taking for so many years to ward off illness. I could not stand to look at them. I just wanted to remember the "good" times. I guess it was kind of nasty, but I took all the prescription drugs to the local hospital and told them that since they had disposed of my husband, they could now dispose of these drugs. Then I walked out. A couple of days after laying him to rest, I donated the remainder of the diabetic supplies, insulin and the three unopened cases of "tube" food to a local charity clinic where, at least, someone could get some good out of this tragedy. As I left, of course the random thought hit that I could not give these things away because they were keeping him alive, but my heart knew he was no longer going to need them. I am starting to try and get my "new" life together with the help and support of my children and now all of you. One day at a time, with one foot in front of the other. It's the best I can do right now. Karen

I hope you all can understand just how grateful I am to have been warmly accepted into this group. Although I have many "cyber" friends at the CSN group, I primarily remain a member there in support of my daughter on the colon forum and some of the special folk on the H&N forum. However, it is really not a place to shed tears as a positive approach to "beating" cancer is much better for all concerned, especially the "newbies". If it's alright with you, I would like to share part of the story surrounding the decline of my husband, Ron. It is only a small part and does not include the many appts. we also had, sometimes as many as 9 each week, but shows his fortitude and his will to live. You may choose to believe the first part if you wish. As I mentioned, I am not normally a person of faith. Our daughter has now been fighting her cancer for almost 5 years and had gotten to a point where she was n longer able to have chemo. Her condition was declining. She is Ron's stepdaughter, but has been "his" daughter since she was 7 years old. She is now 49. For several months before his diagnosis, he, being a person of faith, would repeat the same prayer each night, "Lord, take the cancer away from my daughter & give it to me." In Aug. 2012, he noticed swelling in the right side of his neck. On Oct.12, he went for his regular Endocrinologist appt. & was told to see an ENT. On Oct. 24, we saw an ENT I had chosen from our health plan. The ENT noticed a black spot on the back of his tongue & did a biopsy. It was malignant & on Oct. 29, a CT was done which showed BOT & Nasopharyngeal Cancer w/ lymph node involvement. There was also a spot on his left lung. Despite my having provided a thorough medical history to this ENT, he ordered a CT/PET w/ contrast dye which was done on Nov. 8. This is poison to a person with his medical conditions, something neither of us knew at the time, but surely this man who had been practicing for many years should have known. On Nov. 15, we had a consutation with a chemo doctor who was unable to read the CT/PET but requested a feeding tube anyway. It was time to find a second opinion so I was able to get him into MD Anderson for Dec. 7. Meanwhile on Nov. 20, we had a consultation with a radiologist who read the CT/PET and confirmed the H&N cancer as well as the lung. On Dec. 7, we met with the surgeon @ MDA who said he was treatable, but it would be difficult. You see, around our house, Murphy's Law reigns. On Dec. 17, the contrast dye finally caught up to his system and he was in the hospital from Dec. 17-27 in complete renal & heart failure. In the ER, a doctor(and I use the term lightly) insisted forcing a catheter into him despite his protests. The attempt was unsuccessful due to scar tissue from a previous surgery, but did manage to almost completely shut off his bladder opening. On Jan. 16, we made it back to MDA for another CT/PET w/o contrast dye which showed the cancer growing and he needed a lung biposy to determine if it was the same cancer. On Jan. 21-27, he was again hospitalized for renal failure compounded now by the inability to fully urinate which was caused by the attempted catheter insertion in Dec. At this time, a lung biopsy was done & it was determined that the cancer was was a very aggressive seconday cancer and not a met from the H&N cancer. On Feb. 6, we had a consultaion with a radiologist at MDA. It was decided to attack the lung first, concurrently with chemo. However the chemo was postponed because urination was almost now non-existant. So I selected a Urologist. On Feb. 7, we had a consultation with a Urologist who was unable to complete his test and scheduled Ron for surgery. Radiation was still a "go", so on Feb. 13, he had his radiation mapping done. On Feb 22, he had bladder surgery. On Feb. 26, with surgery catheter still in tow, he had 13 teeth removed, a chemo port and a G-tube for feeding put in. On Feb 28- Mar. 8, he had radiation treatments on his lung. On Mar. 14 during a consultation with an Internest @ MDA, his G-tube site began to bleed profusely. A nurse stopped the bleeding & we went home. As he exited the truck, the bleeding began again. I drove back to the hospital and he was seen in the ER. After a couple of hours, the bleeding stopped and we went home. We were home for a few hours and the blood started really gushing this time & I could not stop it so I called an ambulance which took him to the nearby hospital. Finally after several hours, a surgeon was called in to put in temporary stitches. On Mar. 31, a couple of days after the temp. stitches were removed, the gushing blood started again. He was again taken by ambulance to the nearby ER where permamnent stitches were put in. That finally stopped the bleeding problem. On Apr. 1, he was finally able to get his first 7 hr. chemo session which resulted in a teriible reaction to the Benadryl given pre-chemo. On Apr. 8, he got his second chemo infusion which completed the cycle of his rapidly falling white blood count. He slept the entire next day. On April 10, he was lethargic, disoriented, and unable to stand. He was taken by ambulance to the nearby hospital where it was determined that his WBC was destroyed and he had turned septic. He spent Apr. 10-23 in that hospital where they altered his long term meds to the point that congestive heart failure took over. When he was discharged on the afternoon of Apr. 23, he was actually in congestive heart failure. That evening, I took him myself to the hospital where his Cardio practices. From April 23-May 4, they tried everything but could not reverse the damage that had been done at the previous hospital. While I was home for a few hours, he vomited & aspirated into his lungs and was put on a ventilator. All of his sytems then began to shut down. I was able to reach my daughter who lives 2,000 miles away & she & her husband drove thirty hours straight to get here. Although Ron was semi-conscious, he recognized her presence & I know he understood how serious the situation was. We held onto hope for four days before making the decision to remove him from life support. It was the hardest decision I have ever made. Am I mad? Yes, I am DAM MAD. So many mistakes by the medical professionals that we are supposed to trust. I can't stand here & say that they caused his death, but they certainly hurried it along. Now back to the first part of my chaotic story. During the time all this was happening, my daughter's doctor decided that by removing her spleen, her WBC would rise, and although she would no longer have an immune system, she could restart chemo. While off chemo, her lungs tumors had grown from a quantity of 4 to 38, a non-operable condition, but she still might have a chance with chemo again. So, Ron's sacrifice did not make her cancer "go away", but it gave her a fighting chance. You can be the judge of that one, yourselves. Was it just a coincidence or an act of true faith? I'm sorry this was so long & probably TMI for you all, but I just wanted you to know what led me here. Some day, I may be able to actually have an intelligent conversation without tears running down my face. Karen

Thank you Liza and Jan, for the warm welcome. Jan, I have another friend on Cancer Survivors Network who is also in England. Her name is Sonia. That is one of the things I enjoy about the Internet, being able to meet new friends in other parts of the world. It is 4 AM here and I have yet to find a sleep pattern. So many months of sleeping with one eye open in case Ron called to me in the night. What little sleep he got was on the couch in the family room as he didn't want to keep me awake with his restlessness. I could not convince him to come sleep in the bed. But many times he could not get to the bathroom by himself and needed me. I cannot shut my brain off long enough to get more than a couple of hours of sleep a night. So many random thoughts running through it 24/7. One of the main ones, I suppose, is that we promised to always take care and protect each other from harm, but in the end, I could not save him. At some point in the last few years, I began to have a recurring nightmare that we were walking down a dark alley and were attacked by three men. As he was trying to protect me, they were stabbing him. I could not save him in the dream either. I guess that sounds a lot like the movie "Ghost". Maybe I had recently seen the movie or maybe it was because I saw him failing and knew there was nothing that I could do. I have never been a fan of taking pills to solve problems, although I certainly do not look down on those who do. When my daughter was diagnosed with cancer, my doctor(who I visit once a year for BP meds so the top of my head doesn't explode) offered to give me a type of "coping" drug. I declined as I didn't feel that the pill would make her cancer go away. I have always tried to just face things "head on". At this stage of the game, I may actually ask him about a sleeping aid because I know I can't go forever like this. After all, I am the Mom who has to hold this family together even though my children have their own grown children. Thank you Mary, for the three suggestions. I enjoyed each of them. I could barely hold back the tears as I read "The Empty Chair". Your Bill sounds a lot like my Ron with his thoughtfulness and loving acts. There are still many times that I expect to see Ron laying on the couch watching his favorite John Wayne movie. There are forty years of memories seeping out, some good, some bad, but they are all I have left now. I especially miss the big gentle "bear hugs". At first, I too, could not wrap my head around the idea that he was not going to return home after that hunting trip or that trip to the grocery store(I hate going grocery shopping) or most recently, from one of his many hospitalizations. Slowly, but surely, it has sunk in that he is NEVER coming home. I guess this is the beginning of the "acceptance" phase of this journey. I was the coffee/breakfast maker, but boy could that guy cook up some good meals. He loved to cook and was always trying out new dishes. I hate to cook. In fact, I would rather iron than cook. Sounds pretty silly because who irons anymore? So right now, my best friend is Stouffer's and the microwave. My 20 year old microwave quit right after Ron died and I had to go a few days without one. You would have thought I was stranded in the desert without water. It's funny how certain "things", just like people are such an important part of your everday life and the sddest thing is that things can be replaced, but people can't. There are so many things I want to say, but I realize that sleep deprivation makes one sound rather "loopy" so maybe I should shut up and quit rambling for now and try to sleep a little. I will enjoy talking to each of you and other members again, soon. Karen

Mary and Anne, Thank you so much for your replies. Just "hearing" another person's response is so helpful. Ron's old cat is not much for communication unless he is hungry. He was truly Ron's best buddy, although we get along okay. I suppose I am more of a dog person and have considered a "rescue", but am not sure at this cat's age, how he would adapt. Another loss for our family came a month after Ron. After losing his Dad, my son lost his dog of ten years. Fortunately, pets can be replaced and after a time, he got a five month old puppy. When he visits, the puppy wants to play and the cat wants to hiss and hide, so it probably isn't a good time for a "new" friend. You know, I plan to go get acquainted over at the nearby senior center and perhaps attend a "grief" meeting. But so far, all I have done is "plan". I just don't seem to be able to make myself step forward. I worked for the same company for almost forty years and seemed to have a lot of "friends", but when I retired seven years ago, we each went our own separate ways. I had only one person(except my son & daughter) to call after he was gone. She was a good friend of my Mother's(who passed away in 2006). She is ninety and in poor health, so I cannot be crying on her shoulder all the time. My daughter lives about 2,000 miles away and although we speak a couple of times a week, she is carrying her own burdens. My son lives only about ten minutes away. We just kind of keep tabs on each other. It's funny. I want to be around people, but I just don't want to talk to them. Does that sound crazy? I suppose I just don't want to burden others with my problems. And yet, I am so glad that I discovered this forum where I can communicate with others who really understand. On the Cancer Survivors Network, which has also been a lifesaver for me, I put up a post titled "The TV Is On, If Only For The Noise". I guess that's where I still am. Except for trips to the grocery store, that seems to be my life. That, and trying to juggle all the bills. Ron had no life insurance. I am not "crying in my beer" here, but even with health insurance, I'm left with many bills pertaining to the thirteen times he was hospitalized this year preceding his death. But enough of that. I'm sure we are all struggling to find our "new" normal. As for age, I am 66. Until lately, I did not feel that age, but what is age, anyway? I still drive a big 4WD truck. I hope to contribute more in the future. Thank you again for offering to help me over the many obstacles on this "path". Karen

And I can't seem to climb out! My name is Karen. My story is a lengthy one, filled with medical disasters CAUSED by medical professionals and culminating with the death of my husband, Ron, on May 5, 2013. At this point, the "who, what, and why" are no longer important. After spending the last month of his life in two different hospitals, I was able, with the assistance of the wonderful Hospice people, to bring him home for the final nineteen hours where I held his hand as he took one less breath each hour. You see, I had to make the decision to forever end the life of the man I had spent the last forty-one years of my life with. It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make, to let this wonderful man go, but I knew in my heart, he would not want to walk the new "path" that been chosen for the rest of his "life", forever tethered to a ventilator, a dialysis machine, semi-conscious in a nursing facility. I am now traveling my new "path". I don't like this path, but cannot seem to change direction. I have nothing to look forward to. I simply wait for the other shoe to drop, for you see, my daughter has been fighting Stage IV colon cancer for five years. She is holding her own, as I speak, as a "chemo for life" survivor complete with all the wonderful side effects chemo provides. I cannot bear the thought of losing her, too. Perhaps, in future posts, I can be more uplifting, but the truth is I don't feel very uplifted right now and guess I just need someone to talk with. I am not a "social networker". I have been a member of Cancer Survivors Network since 2009 and have just become a new member here, but I would like to share something I found on another website. I guess it sums it up for me. Thank you for listening. Karen . Unique and Devastating Loss (by WifeLess) With the death of our spouse (which here includes fiancée, significant other, partner, etc.), we grieve the loss of so much more than someone we merely loved or were close to, like a parent, grandparent, sibling, friend or pet. We grieve instead the loss of: The one we loved most deeply, cherished and felt the very closest to. The one we swore commitment to in that unique human bond of marriage, which many consider sacred. The one we shared the ultimate partnership with to live as one and perhaps bear children with. The one who embodied our true sense of home. The one who was our best friend and who was to be our companion for life. The one we confided in, depended on and trusted most. The one who really knew, understood and accepted us as we were. The one we felt safe and protected with. The one we shared private moments and intimate feelings with. The one we mated souls with. But it is not just that this most precious person has been torn from our life, as unbearably heartbreaking as that alone is. With the death of our spouse, and only of our spouse, many additional profound losses must be grieved as well. For we also suffer: The loss of who we ourselves were while with them. The loss of the couple we were once half of. The loss of the life partnership we once formed. The loss of the husband or wife role we once embraced. The loss of the life we once lived. The loss of the plans we once made. The loss of the dreams we once shared. The loss of the future we once envisioned. Amidst all this, we are also suddenly confronted with many hardships we never expected to face at this point in our life. Besides financial survival, increased domestic burdens and perhaps single parenting, additional challenges less apparent to others but all too real and terrifying to us. We must now find it within ourselves: To create a new identity. To redefine our role in life. To establish a new connection to the world. To build a new network of social relationships. To discover a new sense of purpose. To formulate a new set of goals. To decide on a new direction for our future. And we must accomplish these without dishonoring our former life, but while suppressing bittersweet memories of that life, so that they not hold us back. Memories of happier times mostly, but also those of our spouse’s death, either sudden and shocking or after prolonged illness. We must further endure the feelings of guilt and disloyalty that follow us as we attempt to forget and move forward, but with our heartstrings tied so tightly to the past. And all these tasks must be taken on at the lowest possible point of our life in the worst state imaginable. When we are the weakest, most vulnerable, most insecure, most isolated, most heartbroken and most emotionally exhausted we have ever been. Without that one person we long ago became accustomed to relying on to help get us through life's greatest challenges. The one who, just by being there, would have provided us emotional comfort and moral support to draw upon, as well as the strength and confidence we need to complete those tasks and so much more. But now we face all this alone. Profound indeed is the death of our spouse. Unique and devastating. For nearly all of us, much more catastrophic to our life than the loss of any other. And truly comparable, many of us widows and widowers often feel, to one other death only. Ours.