bluelady

Thanks to all of you for your words of encouragement and sorrow. Someone asked me write about Jim, so here goes. Jim was 79 years young. He was hospitalized on July 26th with what we thought was a pinched nerve. Turns out he had an infection attached to his kidney and spine, which had heretofore been confined to an open wound in his groin area that would not heal. Jim had 5 aneurysms repaired in December 2012. His doctor feared the grafts were now infected. As it turned out, they were infected and Jim had to have all those grafts and his aorta removed and his blood supply had to be rerouted to his legs via under his arm and down to his groin and legs. This was a MAJOR vascular surgery, which the doctor was not happy about having to do. However, before they could operate, the infection was found to have spread to his heart and had formed a vegetation on his heart valve, which would require open heart surgery to replace the damaged valve, as well. Jim had the vascular surgery on July 30th. The doctors were hoping to get 6 weeks between the two surgeries for Jim to get his strength back, before having to do the cardio surgery, but the valve began to deteriorate rapidly and open heart surgery was done on August 22nd. He appeared to be getting better and doing well, when a urinary tract infection was found and a flush was done by his doctor. A few hours later, Jim began to having breathing difficulties, went into A-fib and had be moved to the coronary care unit. A few days later, he was placed on a ventilator, with promises to me that it was strictly a temporary condition and that he would be off of it in a few days. He never came off the ventilator, his once strong heart weakened and they told me on September 28th that there was nothing more they could do for him and that he was not going to survive, since his heart was getting weaker every day. He passed away on October 2nd. He was hospitalized for 68 days. For many of those days I was either sleeping on a cot in his room or staying in a guest room at the hospital, not wanting to be far away from him. I was unable to stay with him in the CCU, as the room (or unit) was very small and it was simply not allowed. I was with him, holding his hand and expressing my love to him when he took his last breath. This was the worst thing I have ever had to do, at least I thought it was. Now I find that "recovering" from my grief is equally as hard. Jim was born and raised in New Zealand and was loved by everyone who knew him, both there and here. Most people said he was a true Southern Gentleman, which I must concur. He would thank the lab, when they came to stick him for blood four times, before having to get someone else to try. He was a favorite of many of the nurses in the hospital, as he never met a stranger and loved talking to everyone. He was a gentle man, not wanting to hurt a single living creature. He had five kids, a daughter in Northern Ireland, a son in Australia, a son in New Zealand, a son in Seattle and a daughter in Anchorage. He and I had no children together, were married for 15 wonderful years and were closer than two people should have a right to be. This grieving thing is something I have never encountered before on such a stressful, depressing level. I cry constantly and feel so alone without my precious Jim. Life hasn't much meaning for me now, since all of my dreams that I shared with Jim and we looked forward to doing, have been shattered and I have no idea what my life might look like in six months nor six years. I just hope one day soon I will be able to look lovingly at a photo of Jim, without bursting into tears or walk past his shoes still on the floor under the bar in the kitchen without crying. This is SO hard!!

Four weeks ago yesterday, my life forever changed, as I lost my rock, my foundation, my companion, my best friend and the love of my life. I was close to retiring, so we could travel and enjoy the remaining days of our lives. Now my entire world is upside down and I have no plans for the future. My heart is shredded and my bathtub is filled with crocodile tears. I miss him so much. I cry almost constantly, not able to function very well. I couldn't even pick out a casket for him nor a grave plot for us both. I can't even pick up a pair of his shoes, placed carefully under the bar in the kitchen, before he had to be hospitalized. I have shut his side of the closet, so I won't cry just looking at his clothes. We were so very close, we were ONE. We could finish one another's sentences and answer each other's questions before we were asked. We did everything together, except when I was at work. He was already retired and would call me at work, just to tell me he loved me. I still look at the phone every time it rings to see if his name is on the caller ID, then I realize it wouldn't be. Most of my family and friends have stopped coming around and calling and I am all alone in my grief for most of the time. I am sure they grew tired of having me cry at the drop of a hat, even when we were discussing something else. I printed a fresh picture of my precious love for my desk at work, but every time I look at it, I break out into tears. This is the most difficult thing I have ever had to face alone. I have lost both a mother and father, grandparents and other close relatives, but NOTHING comes remotely close to the feelings I am having now. I have panic attacks in the middle of the night, waking up and being scared to death, but not knowing why, just a feeling of foreboding that something bad is about to happen and I am powerless to stop it. I don't sleep well, I don't eat well and I absolutely ache with grief. I can't imagine the rest of my life without my love, especially if is going to be like this.