LadyCarrie

Kay, I pray you are feeling stronger, and that you will suffer no more lack. I'm very sorry you were without food from your church, which was apparently due to someone's failure to communicate. IF there is a positive from this bad thing that happened to you, it's that all of us who read about this can make a commitment to help others more than we ever have, and that if we are unable to fulfill our commitment/obligation, we need to do all we can to find someone to take our place. We are reminded of tangible things that might need to be done for someone in need, and we have a reminder to ask which specific things we can do. I am learning to say specifically what my own needs are, which is difficult for me (I've always been the one to take care of the needs of others). I'm learning to not expect others to be mind readers. Subconsciously, I've sometimes expected those who care about me to just know, which hasn't been fair of me. Your Christiany is showing through in your attitude (causing good things to come from a bad thing). I definitely would have been hurt and angry had I been left without food and care, and I would have called my church to say so. Then, like you, I would forgive, and determine to not let such happen to anyone else within my church---or to anyone outside it, if I'm aware of a need. Blessings, Carrie

My heart is hurting for you and for your wife. I know others on this forum know you, and I'm sure some of them will be talking with you soon. I'm new, but I've read some of your posts. I just want you to know that I care, and that I will pray for you. Carrie

Kay, I am SO sorry that happened to you, and to that poor dog! What a terrible thing! I totally agree with you that the dog should have been shown mercy, and put out of its misery. Is it possible there was a law that prevented the policeman from shooting it in that particular place at that particular time? I hesitate to ask you that question (and please forgive me, if I shouldn't have), but I just can't imagine him refusing to help the dog had he the authority to do so! There was no mercy or justice for either of you that day. To get a ticket after what you'd just been through is so bad. The prolonged agony of the dog upsets me, and unlike you, I didn't have to witness it. I know the look you describe, I think. I've seen a Husky die an agonizing death due to peritonitis. It was a neighbor's dog, who had been making a horrible sound for quite some time before I learned the source of the sound, and the location from which it was coming. The dog was on our neighbor's upper back deck. The neighbor was at work, so my daughter and I put Spirit onto a blanket, and managed to get her down the stairs, and into our car (no easy feat). She died, screaming, on the way to the vet. It was horrible. Ashely suffered so much as she died, and before. It took her so long to die. Even so, I'm told that it was a "good death." I love the vet who came to our house, but if that's a good death, I'd surely hate to witness a bad one. I am responsible for some of her pain the day she died, which is very, very hard to live with. The vet told me to give her 5 mg of Valium before she arrived. Ashely's usual vet prescribed a pill that was supposed to simply cause her to go to sleep (not die), and it was supposed that Ashely wouldn't even be hurt by the needle that would take her life. That seemed a better idea, so I chose that pill over the Valium. It didn't happen that way. That's a choice that makes me so sorry and so sad. The Valium would have been a better choice. I know this too late. You used the word "haunted." That's a good word for how I feel about making the wrong choice for Ashely, my baby girl. I try hard to keep Jerry from seeing me cry, for he breaks down at times, and I don't want more regret. This has been a day for tears for Ashely, although it's Christmas Eve; perhaps it's because it's Christmas Eve. I've missed her so much "helping" me in the kitchen by keeping close watch on "her" oven. Dang triggers anyway! Carrie

I hurt for the cat, the cat's family, and I hurt for you. It is truly a sad story, but I feel you needed to share it with the rest of us, rather than keep the hurt inside of you. You did right to remind us to be especially careful with our fur children. As I prepare for Christmas dinner, I cry for our little Ashely, our Black and Tan Doxie who died of kidney disease in October. My double-oven stove worked as a trigger, and the tears poured, because she used to appear think the the bottom oven was hers. I use it only at holiday time, and she sat in front of it to watch the food until it was served. I now dread seeing the cute photos of her sitting there. I must stop my tears and "suck it in," because my not-so-well husband, Jerry, will cry with me. We both grieve for her, and I am afraid for him. Thank you for posting, and I agree with Marty. I, too, am glad there are such kind people like you in the world. It's refreshing. Carrie

Dear Jamiesam, You are so very young to be experiencing this great heartache and burden. I am sorry you are hurting, and are so very tired. I was a lot older than you are when I was caregiver for my mother. I remember how tired I was most of the time, yet like you, I did what I needed to do. We want our loved one to live, yet not suffer. What you need is another pair of hands to help you physically, and someone to help your hurting heart (someone who understands and who can advise you). I pray someone will come up beside you, and go shoulder-to-shoulder with you to help you. Perhaps if you say outright what you need a friend to do, you will get help. Your friends are too inexperienced to understand how you feel, which calls for a lot of patience on your part, and at a time when you are too tired to be patient. Words don't break our bones, but they bruise the more tenderer parts of us (Spurgeon). I'm sorry your friends' words hurt you. Of course, I can't know for sure why your father yells at you, but sometimes a sick person yells because he or she is afraid of the unknowns of the illness and of death. Often the yelling is aimed at the person he loves most, because he expects the loved one to understand his lashing out (it gets difficult to not take it to heart though, especially when you're tired). I've been on both sides of this one. Right now, I'm afraid of losing my precious husband of 46 years, and I confess, with shame, that sometimes I become a grumpy old lady. Most of the time, I can keep my grumps inside of me, but sometimes, I fail. As you said, you can't talk about these heavy things with your precious little girl, yet she can still be a great source of joy and comfort for you. I remember when my own daughter was four. Four is such a fun age (I feel a little bit of envy, for I would like to relive those happy days). My daughter is forty-nine now, and is still at a fun age. We are now close friends and neighbors. Regarding hospice, Kay's advice is right and good. I am likely one of those who have misconceptions about hospice due to a lack of knowledge about it. As Anne said earlier, my heart hurts for you. We care that you hurt. Blessings and hugs, Carrie

Kay, You are in my thoughts and prayers today, as you have been since I learned of your surgery. Carrie

Dear Dar, Others who have similar experiences with cancer and loss of a spouse will likely be able to help you better than I, but my heart goes out to you, and I just want to let you know that I care that you hurt. To lose your husband of forty-five years, and especially in such a heart-rending way (his pain, begging you to help him, his weight loss, and loss of his teeth, etc.), is enough to make you feel all the things you feel. Of course, you felt/feel confused and scared. Please don't feel guilty. Guilt is common after the loss of a loved one. It's part of grief. I'm telling you this, yet I expect I'll feel guilt, remorse, and regret (real and/or imagined) myself. I'm having to make serious decisions (have for nearly 2 years), and I fear I might make a wrong one (or more) that might harm, or even take my Jerry's life. I recently made such a decision that shortened our cherished fourteen-year-old Dachshund's life, which points out to me that I can make such a decision regarding Jerry. My mistake with Ashely was that I allowed a vet to do a dental surgery, against another vet's advise, although she had kidney disease. The vet told me that his speed during surgery would prevent her kidneys from being damaged. I learned too late that his speed would not prevent the anesthesia from damaging her kidneys. She lived only three weeks after surgery. I not only grieve for her, but I'm racked up with remorse for making a foolish decision. As much as we grieve for our precious baby Ashely, I know it's not the same as the loss of a spouse. It is my opinion that NO grief touches the soul as bone-marrow deeply as does the loss of a spouse. I saw the "preview" in January 2013 when I was told that Jerry was about to die; I dread seeing the "movie" (feels unbearable). Having your husband's name taken off of everything must hurt you terribly. I am in anticipatory grief (sometimes near-paralyzing fear of future), and I have thought of what I would feel like without Jerry's name on everything -- or on nothing, except junk mail--advertisements offering him great deals after he's gone. I might be feeling some of the things you've felt since your husband was diagnosed. We have been married 46 years, and are exceptionally close. I'm so sorry that you are hurting. I am glad that you have a strong family for support. We are a very close, strong family also, but so very few in number. Blessings and hugs, Carrie

Hi, I am new, so you will not likely recognize my name. I am sorry you are hurting, and have hurts and losses from so many sources. I pray that God will give you strength and stamina, and will sustain you, especially as the anniversary of the loss of your husband approaches. I don't believe you are whining, but it's all right to let out a hearty, healthful whine now and then, if you feel like it. Carrie

Jerry and I prayed for you together yesterday, and again this morning, Kay. We prayed that God will make you well and whole again and very soon. We pray that you will also get your insurance just the way you need it to be, and that God will guide and direct the minds and hands of your physicians as they care for you, and that He will continue to give you special strength and stamina, so you can do all you need to do. Now we know to pray regarding your garage and your truck. We join your long-time friends here in praying for the best of outcomes for you, and for peace in your heart and mind (happens to be the prayer for myself this morning; rough day yesterday). I can't say that I know just how you feel, for I know I don't, but I care that you hurt. We prayed for Fae, and for all others on this site, especially for those who are hurting physically, as well as emotionally, for they have special burdens to bear. We do not know the needs of each, yet God knows the hearts, minds, and bodies of each one. We learned the power of prayer, to a much deeper level, while Jerry was so sick, yet we still get afraid and full of dread. I know fear is the opposite of faith, so I wish I didn't have to acknowledge this fear (panic) and dread. Jerry is still in danger (aneurysms, plus), so we request prayers for ourselves also. We know that at sometime, God will answer our prayers in a way one of us will not like, yet we are looking to Him for strength to endure (seems utterly impossible, but you know this already). I did not mean to make this about me/us, for you and Fae, and others, are the ones who we know need special thoughts and prayers right now. Blessings, Carrie

Dear Kay, I am truly sorry you are going through so much. Due to Jerry's weeks of hospitalization, I can relate to a lot of what you are saying (wandering the labyrinths of hospital hallways to get to different departments, especially when afraid and sick, is so difficult; hallways long and same color!), and due to our daughter, Amberly, being nurse supervisor where she works, I hear a lot about the "affordable" health care plan, and how it's causing so many patients to suffer. Amberly is a tenacious advocate for many people in similar situations as yours regarding insurance. She does a lot of the prior auths for medications, surgeries, CT scans, MRIs, etc. Because of her tenacity, she achieves much of what she sets out to do, but it's a battle daily, and a battle not easily won. I just texted her to ask her opinion of the plans for California. She texted back that "Straight MediCal or MediCal BX is best; CA Care and Humana are worst. California Health and Wellness are not easy either." She tells me often that although everyone is supposed to be insured now, it's very difficult to get hospitals (including many university hospitals), and doctors to accept the insurances. So now that everyone is insured, if this new insurance plan is not accepted, how is having this new insurance plan better? It is not better. Many meds are now denied, even life-saving ones. People who are critically ill, and in severe pain, are often denied the meds and care they need. As for the computer and all the redundant questions, this has health care professionals pulling out their hair also. I know what it's like from the patients' points of view. Maddening! Because getting the best care for her patients is a passion of Amberly's, I find myself letting that passion show through here. What I really want to tell you is that, if it's all right with you, Jerry and I would like to include you in our morning prayers. We would like to join Fae, and others, in prayer for you. You help many others, and prayer is something we can do for you, even far away. Were we near you, we could possibly do something to help you physically. I told Jerry that you are sick, and he says that he's sorry, and that he cares. We don't know you personally, but we know what it's like to hurt physically and emotionally. We know we have this in common. Because we have an appointment this morning, I will need to come back to read your posting carefully, so that I can understand better. Blessings, Carrie

Dear Deb, We are so sorry your brother passed away, and for the great loss you feel. We are asking God to give you strength and stamina, as well as peace and comfort. This note is to let you know that we, among so many others here, care. Carrie and Jerry, Mi Wuk Village, CA

Hi, Deb, I just want to tell you that I am so very sorry that you hurt. Blessings, Carrie

Hi, Thank you SO much. Because I do still have him with me, I was /am hesitant to write anything, yet I'm scared and live in dread and fear. I need people who can understand. I walked with Jerry to the precipice of a great cliff called Death, and we stayed there for weeks. He was expected to die at any moment for weeks in the hospital. I say that without exaggeration. It's what we were being told. They are still watching him with surprise that he still lives. This does not feel good at all---for either of us. I feel like I've seen the preview, and I don't want to see the movie. Somehow I think you will understand what I mean by that statement. Jerry and I went to see a psychiatrist a few times after he was discharged from the hospital, but he is 70 miles away, and Jerry can't drive that far. I have Meniere's Diease with vertigo too severe to be a safe driver. We live in in a rural subdivision (sort an isolated area) in the forest in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California. We lost our little Ashely Rose Dachshund on October 10 to kidney disease. She was our baby and our therapy. She was fourteen. We grieve so hard for her. She slept in the crook of my left arm since she was a baby. I know I'm on the wrong forum to talk about her. I hurt too badly to write much about her. I just wanted you to know. I also want to tell you that my mother was much closer to her older children than to me until the last five years of her life. I think the reason may be that she gave birth to me later in life. I think she expected her older daughters to take care of her. I was the spare, and I spent much of my life trying to prove my worth to her. She loved me, but wasn't as close to me as to her older children until the last few years of her life. At that time, she became very close to me. She did not tell me until sometime during the last five years that my father had told her to come to me after his death in 1969. My father knew that I would treat her more as he treated her (dote on her with a happy heart). I really would have been so happy if either of my parents had told me that my father trusted me with her care. I needed to hear it. I cried when I was told. I really am ever-so-grateful that I can be Jerry's caregiver. You are right in saying that I wanted to be his wife foremost. The word made me feel that the end was imminent (just as the doctor had just told us). It was the end that I couldn't accept. The work, I do more than gladly. I thank God for the opportunity. It's dreading the day that I don't have the opportunity that is scaring me stupid. Thanks for caring. Blessings, Carrie

KayC, Thank you for your response. Yes, I was my mother's caregiver for a long time. I do forgive myself, yet the memory surely makes me wish I could have a "Do over." For most of those years, I didn't understand I was a caregiver. I just did what was needed after my father died. Regarding the word "caregiver," I had a surprising and strong reaction to the word in January 2013 when my husband, Jerry, was in Step Down in the hospital. He was in total liver failure due to a 9-centimeter aneurysm in his hepatic artery, which we were told was inoperable. We were told that he was almost certain to die. I believe you said that you were "frantic" when you were losing your husband. That well-describes me at the time (and many times since). I begged God to let me go with him, for the pain seemed too hard to bare. I was standing in the hall, just outside Jerry's room, with my daughter and the doctor, when the social worker came to ask who Jerry's caregiver was. My daughter said, "She is," and pointed to me. I was surprised to hear myself referred to as Jerry's caregiver, although the nurses were allowing me to do all of his CNA work. I emphatically denied it. I said, "I am not his caregiver. I am his wife. My duties as his wife have changed, but I am not his caregiver." I am not sure why I had such a reaction. Maybe someone knows why I couldn't accept that position. I thought I had only a few days to be his wife, and I didn't think I could bare the loss. I was resisting with all my heart. I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready, and I'm so very afraid. Sometimes I think I manage well, yet there are long stretches of time that I am simply terrified. We have been married for 46 years. I don't know how to do this. I don't know that I CAN do this. Jerry's doctors did some procedures that had never been tried before, and he lived. He has a rare condition that his doctors have never seen before; therefore, we have no prognosis. They didn't think it was possible for him to live; he almost didn't live; and they continue to be surprised that he still lives. The uncertainty causes sustained high anxiety. I planned to post first on the Anticipatory Grief forum, but I couldn't help but reach out to Karen regarding her mother. I will write on the other forum soon. I have read, with interest, some of your writing. Thank you for caring for hurting people. I know you hurt also, and I am sorry that you have been through so much. Blessings, Carrie

Karen, I am a new member, and this is my first posting. You touched my heart, so I want to tell you that I am truly sorry your mother passed away. My heart goes out to you. Losing one's mother can hurt so badly. I remember how badly I hurt when my mother died on 20 June 1989. I remember how painful going through her belongings was as we decided what to keep as keepsakes, what to give to family, and what to give to charity. I still miss her, although she died long ago. She was my friend, was full of fun, and had a smile that could melt a rock. I was her caregiver for twenty years. The last five years, she required total care (feeding, bathing, diapering). Even as devoted as I was to my mother, I wrestled with guilt because I did, or did not do, certain things. In truth, I doted on my mother, yet I kept thinking of what else I should have done for her that I neglected to do. I still find myself wishing I had done even more, but I know I'm being unreasonable. I didn't realize until recently that guilt is common while grieving is raw and new. My husband, daughter, and I went to visit my mother one night, and she asked us to please stay a little longer as we were getting ready to leave. I explained that we could not, because we had dinner reservations. She died that night. We all struggle with guilt for leaving her. I believe remorse is what we really feel, for we could not have known we would never see her alive again. You are blessed to have a loving, close family. I agree with KayC that your mom would be so glad for you to still be living, and enjoying your husband and your life. Regarding your loss of interest in things you enjoy, in time, you will enjoy your hobbies again. I am going through a grief right now that causes me to avoid particular things, and to lose interest in my sewing, painting, and genealogical research/writing. You have your Scrabble to keep your mind focused, and I read to keep from grieving. If I'm "living" the life of someone else, I am not thinking of my pain---or the pain to come. I am also in anticipatory grief. By God's grace, and the support we receive from friends, including our new friends on this site, we will manage our grief. Blessings, Carrie