mittam99

Marty thank you for sharing that post. It gives us members a unique perspective on your own grief journey. Today's grief trigger for me... a bottle of gin. For the first time since Tammy's passing, I opened the cabinet that housed our tiny liquor selection. Once I saw that almost empty bottle of Gilbey's gin, I lost it. We rarely drank, but Tammy loved those gin and tonics I made with plenty of ice and lime. We shared a lot of smiles sipping on those refreshing drinks from time to time. Realizing I'll never experience that again is such painful kick in the gut. Another day. Another new trigger. I never knew there were so many triggers. Triggers you see. Triggers you hear. Triggers you think, Triggers you touch. Triggers you smell. Triggers you taste. Such is this journey they call grief.

I think a loss like we are going through makes us think more about our own mortality.

All of us in grief need all the love and support we can get. This grief journey is hard! And this forum has been a true blessing for me and so many others. To be able to speak of the pain of grief and know that people understand it, makes a huge difference in our healing. It feels like we are all in this together. And that's a great thing. Janka, I was taken aback by some of your posts in this thread. Shocked, actually. This isn't meant as any sort of personal "attack". Just an observation. Like you, I come here for a sense of comfort. And I enjoy the feeling of being with people who understand what I'm going through. The truth is, I've personally seen nothing but love and kindness sent your way. I hope you look at your words below and realize a large portion of this board is probably confused and hurt by what you wrote. Your words seem not in keeping with the positive spirit of this community. These are good people and just like you, they are grieving. My apologies to Marty if this was overstepping my bounds. Janka, I wish you much happiness and I hope you take what I wrote constructively. I certainly enjoy much of what you post. Wolfskat... welcome back and sorry to take your topic a little off course. Now back to regular programming... Mitch

Excellent news!!!!

Grief really does hurt in many ways... Last night I was watching TV when I saw a woman that had features that reminded me of my beloved mom. I began to tear up and then had a wave of thoughts about all the people in my life who are gone. And of course my thoughts went to my sweet Tammy. It became very overwhelming and incredibly intense. Oddly, there were some tears but not a lot. It was almost like I became catatonic for a moment or two. I couldn't process all the sorrow. Afterward, my head was throbbing in a way I've rarely experienced. Not a normal headache feel at all. It felt like my brain itself was swelling or something.

I tell Tammy I'm home everytime I come back home from work as well.

Joyce, here at the house there's a spot in our bedroom where the floor makes a distinct creaking sound when you walk on it. Often when Tammy was alive, I'd call her from the kitchen to let her know dinner was ready. Then, I'd hear her get out of bed to go to the bathroom. The spot was right there... the sound, unmistakable. Since March 6th, 2015, I've heard the same exact sound on a number of occasions when I've been making food in the kitchen. Mind you, this isn't the house "settling". This is a sound that can only be made when someone walks on it. At first it did sort of freak me out but realizing it's Tammy there is a sense of comfort but like you said I wish I could touch and see her too.

There just have been too many unusual, even mind boggling things that have happened since Tammy died to deny this. And I'm not talking about people saying "she will always be with you". Those people referring to memories and just the love I have inside for my Tammy for always. No, I'm saying that I am now convinced that she is here with me, helping me, and existing in my life here in the present. No, I can't see her. I can't really feel her presence, per say. Again, I'm not talking about looking around my house and getting a measure of comfort seeing her in every corner of the house. I'm saying Tammy is here but in a way that's beyond my comprehension. But she is here and she is helping me in ways that she can. Before you start thinking "hmmm... they say grief is a form of insanity", let me assure you I am sane (well, at least as sane as I can be given the circumstances). Let me outline why I believe Tammy is "watching over me" and not only was she my precious angel and one and only in life, she's now my personal angel watching over me. Tammy's wish was to be buried back in her home State of Illinois, and I made the drive to Illinois for the funeral. Not an easy thing to do... driving 800 miles in massive grief and 16 hours on the road alone. Driving along on the highway in the early AM, I drifted off to sleep... behind the wheel going at least 70mph. Seconds later, I woke up to a loud sound. It was the sound my car bouncing off a concrete construction barrier, lifting up in air a bit and landing. All I could think was "Oh no, my car is wrecked and I won't make it to my own wife's funeral!!" The car surprisingly seemed to still be driving ok. I pulled off at the next rest stop to survey the damage. And ... not a scratch!! Just so you know, I'm a car guy. I've run a major car website and forum for a decade and a half. I know cars. This was impossible. Not a scratch? And the car was tracking true meaning my alignment was still good. Again, it just can't happen. But it did. How did it happen? Tammy, that's how. She knew how anal I was about the car and she certainly needed me to give that eulogy! This was my first thought that somehow Tammy still was with me. A few days after that I gave more thought to the incident. I was very lucky that I feel asleep on the stretch of highway that had the construction barriers up. Had they not been there, I would have continued to veer into oncoming traffic in the other side and most likely been killed. Back at home in Maryland, I was on the phone with my niece and the subject of our daughter Katie came up. Katie is a bit of a sore subject for me. She decided to leave home at 18 to live in Illinois. Tammy was not doing well at all at the time and her leaving caused Tammy much anguish and sadness. Anyway, I started to get upset on the phone, telling my niece that Tammy felt like Katie sort of abandoned her and how hurt she was. All of the sudden the ceiling fan in the bedroom beeped and turned itself on... at the highest speed! That scared the "you know what" out of me. It certainly got my attention. Immediately I knew it was Tammy telling me not to get upset. I literally had goose pimples from this incident and told my niece I had to call her back. Fans don't just turn themselves on and if there was a freak electrical thing it wouldn't turn on at the highest speed. Clearly, Tammy wanted me to calm down. Since then there have been other things that have happened. I often lose my remote controls and when I'm ready to give up I ask Tammy if she knows where the remote is or can help me find it. EVERY time, I find it seconds later. Same thing happened the day I thought I lost my keys. I always panicked when I lost something like that. When Tammy was living she'd always be the voice of calmness and assure me I'd find them and she was always right. And sure enough this time, I found the keys. Shortly after Tammy's death I was working on the front yard. This unusual butterfly appeared. It was following me everywhere I went. I'd never seen anything like that before. Aren't butterflies supposed to represent rebirth after death? Today was the day that convinced me Tammy, my angel, is here in the present. We have a blind on one of the windows in our house that's sort of been stuck in the 3/4 closed position for like 3 years. I've tried on a seemingly weekly basis to get it to close completely, to no avail. Today, for the first time, I asked Tammy if she could help me fix it. I thought to myself if somehow, some way, it got fixed Tammy truly was here. So I tried to adjust it the same way I always did. This time I felt a lot of give as I pulled on the cord, and it released to the closed position. I dropped to my knees and sobbed. "Why can't I see you?". No I can't see her. but, I'm convinced. My sweet, darling, most perfect Tammy... the love of my life is still in my life. Just in a way that's beyond my understanding.

So... I made that corned beef and ate some. About ten minutes later, I was getting chest pains... heartburn. Was that Tammy's way of saying she didn't approve? I really don't think so... it was just heartburn. I know Tammy would want me to find some measure of happiness. I miss my Tammy so much.

Life without our beloved is a life of just going through the motions. At least that's how it is for me right now. Things that once made me laugh out loud now barely cause a chuckle. Hobbies that held my interest before and far less interesting. I seem to have a attention span of an 8 year old. I turn the TV on but after a few minutes I'm bored with it and go read something and the TV is just background noise. When Tammy was here, even though we struggled with her health issues and we had some financial problems, life had joy. What is our mission in life now?

Thanks for your words.

I like to think I have a good grasp on things; that somehow I'm on top of it... Unfortunately, so much in our lives is totally out of our control. It's just hard to come to terms with that sometimes, I reckon.

I find that writing my thoughts and venting to others in our grief community is very helpful to me. I'm not sure it's necessarily healing but it is certainly comforting when others respond to what I've written.

Well, I bought a corned beef but I'm still not sure I can make it without feeling wrong doing it. I know Tammy would want me to find some measure of happiness in my "new" life. I know she wouldn't want me to suffer or avoid things I enjoy. Yet because it was corned beef that I was preparing for dinner the day Tammy died, I feel so tortured with this. I think it all goes back to guilt. Not just guilt that I'm enjoying something in the here and now that Tammy can't. I gave Tammy a little sample taste of the corned beef on that terrible March day and she didn't really want to eat it. Now keep in mind, corned beef was something Tammy went crazy for... Tammy never turned down corned beef. I should have known something was seriously wrong. I just chalked it up to Tammy being super tired. So there's that guilt of feeling like I missed a sign of impending doom or something. I also know that Tammy herself just said she was tired. But... still, this is all just so overwhelming. I'm sure I'll wind up eating the corned beef but I'm pretty sure I'll feel bad doing it. I hope Tammy's OK with it.

Dear grief healing members, Grief is hard enough without being this way but I've always been one to worry and over-analyze almost everything. I loved Tammy with all my heart but like all couples we had the occasional disagreement. And we both tended to say stupid things to each other we didn't really mean during those disagreements. Of course, we always kissed and made up and apologized. I think about those moments a lot now and it upsets me that they ever happened. Often they were disagreements about something Katie did (or didn't do). I feel so guilty for any hurtful things I might have said. I know I'm human but I am so sorry I had moments like that. I find myself asking Tammy for forgiveness all the time. In some weird way am I trying to punish myself? Do I do this because I feel like I let Tammy down when I wasn't able to save her? Why do I beat myself up like this? Signed, Mixed up in Maryland

I thought this was appropriate...

Yes, that is absolutely awful. Janka, why in the world would family members do that to you? It's mind boggling. Unimaginable, really.

I think there is truth to doctors and medical personnel looking at overweight patients differently. Tammy struggled with her weight but it wasn't that she ate so much, the steroids she needed caused a lot of extra weight gain. Before the lupus and twice a day Prednisone, she was very thin. It would irk me when nurses would compliment Tammy on her petite hands and feet. I think they were looking at her as an overweight person and they were surprised she had all those "small" features. She was really a very small boned person. Matter of fact, they sometimes had to use a children's blood pressure cuff on her to get a reading. Tammy was 5'-2" of pure perfection to me!

Some of the reasons for my utter disdain of the medical community... and don't get me started on insurance companies... My mom was diagnosed with colon cancer and she had surgery to remove the cancerous part of her colon. After the surgery and my moms hospital stay, our family met with the surgeon to discuss her outlook. We were all thrilled when we heard, "we got it all, the margins are clean". The surgeon then said my mom wouldn't need radiation or chemotherapy. "Just come back in six months for a checkup". We are all relieved and happy. Fast forward six months... unfortunately, her cancer had spread to her liver. Then they started chemo and radiation. Ok, so why didn't the doc err on the side of caution initially? Tammy had to have lung surgery due to a severe infection and pleurisy. This was back in 2007 and was the first time Tammy's health took a turn for the worse since we had met in 1999. I'll never forget the surgeon speaking to us and telling us the surgery had to be done ASAP because it was very bad. This was the first we had heard about this. So, I had a lot of questions and we both were scared. When I tried to say "Doctor, so how will this....", the doctor rudely interrupted me and said "LET ME FINISH". I was taken aback and said something like "Sorry, I am just worried". She gave me a look that could kill. She had the bedside manner of a snake. After that 6.5 hours surgery and a month long hospital stay, Tammy was transferred to a nursing home for rehab. We arrived at the nursing home around 9 PM. One item that needed to be hooked up was a special wound care vac. The lung surgery was very intensive and a lot of skin had to be grafted to about a third of Tammy's back. The problem? No one in this facility really new how to properly connect and work this machine. It was one comedy of errors after another. Finally at around 2AM they left the room and had it "sort of" hooked up. Such, was the beginning of the medical ordeals Tammy and I went through. Toward the end of that hospital stay, Tammy was getting better and I returned to part time work. After work and on the way to the nursing home, I got a call from Tammy and she was clearly upset. She had rang for assistance as she had an "accident" in bed. When I got to her room they still hadn't come to clean everything up. Tammy was crying. I stormed down to the directors office and told them how incredibly neglectful this was. And this was only the beginning of a massive amount of incompetence and poor medical treatment we dealt with during Tammy's many hospital stays and interactions. How about the time a nurse was getting ready to give Tammy a pain pill she was deathly allergic to? If I wasn't there to stop her, I shudder to think what might have happened. And the allergy was listed on her chart! Or Tammy's internist and rheumatologist who dropped her as a patient for missing too many appointments. She missed the appointments because she was either too tired or weak or ill to go. She wasn't trying to avoid them. What hippocratic oath did they take? How about the time a nurse/tech left a stool sample laying on a counter in Tammy's room all day before someone picked it up for testing? That needed to be under refrigeration or the test would be useless/false. I'm getting angry just thinking about all this. And this is only the beginning. Doctors in the emergency room once gave Tammy a cocktail of narcotic pain medication and an anti-anxiety med that dropped her blood pressure off the map and put her into cardiac arrest. I had just left the room to take Katie to the bathroom and when we came back the doors were closed and curtains drawn. To my horror and shock, I saw them using paddles on Tammy's chest. They brought Tammy back from the brink and then performed exploratory abdominal surgery. At the time, I realize they were trying to figure out what was going on, but they found nothing. They themselves as it turned out caused her cardiac arrest. That surgery permanently removed part of Tammy's belly button. I initially brought her in due to severe pain. The reality was, this pain was a symptom of her lupus flaring up. The ER doctors knew virtually nothing about lupus and this is why I believe they did things in such a botched way. There are many more incidents like this. I'm getting too worked up to post about them now. My Tammy deserved only the best and I believe that the modern medical community mostly failed her. Tammy did have numerous serious medical conditions. As one doctor told us she was the most "complicated" patient he had ever seen. Like I've said, I don't like doctors for the most part and I'm sure you can understand why. On the other side of the coin one doctor saved Tammy's life in a dramatic way. I had taken Tammy to the ER and she was in bad shape. She had sepsis and her vitals weren't good. It was on Saturday and if you know anything about hospitals and weekends you'll know they were understaffed. It just so happened her urologist was making rounds there. He saw Tammy's chart and told them to cancel all scheduled elective surgeries and get a team ready for Tammy immediately. I was holding her hand in pre-op when I saw her pressure was as low as 47/27. They had to try to stabilize her pressure before they could do surgery. As she went in to surgery I had no idea what was ahead. The doctor saved her life and for that I will always be grateful to him. Tammy and I endured so many medical ordeals. Yes, she went through the actual medical procedures but, there was much emotional trauma we both dealt with. Tammy was the most amazing woman I've ever known and her and I were the best and most perfect team in the world (IMO). Mitch

Count me in as the typical man that shies away from doctor visits. Experiencing all the sub-par medical "professionals" that Tammy had to deal with solidifies my attitude. It's kind of scary knowing how many incompetent and uncaring people are out there with peoples lives in their hands... literally. That's not to say there aren't some wonderful doctors and nurses out there, just that in my experience they are few and far between. And too many of them concentrate on the dollars they'll make versus the quality of care given.

Terri, I think you hit the nail on the head about cooking. It isn't always easy to cook a really nice meal, but, the rewards of seeing someone's eyes light up and that huge smile (and those "accolades" you hear) are well worth the drudgery of preparing the food. Of course the worst part, (at least for me) was having to clean up the kitchen mess.

The day Tammy died I was making one of her favorite foods... corned beef. I remember bringing her up a small sample but she just didn't have an appetite. A few hours later, she was gone. My mother-in-law told me one of Tammy's beloved father's last meals included corned beef and she vowed to never eat corned beef again. I haven't either. Yet, I struggle with this in a way. I love corned beef. Tammy loved corned beef. Would she want me to never eat it again? Should I feel guilty if I do buy one and enjoy it?

I think a lot of us here have lost our spouses in a sudden and traumatic way. It seems to me we're not just dealing with the loss of our soul mate and all that entails... Losing our loved one in that way creates a grief compounded with a sort of post traumatic stress. And we have those "why" questions and the "if-only's" that play on our minds and wreak havoc with our emotions. For me, as I've said before, life is now a one day at a time, just do the best I can event. I don't expect a switch will go off one day and suddenly my life becomes filled with joy and happiness. I mean, we all want to be happy but it's just impossible to imagine happiness without the love of our life in it. Today is a beautiful, sunny 70 degree March day. The birds are chirping. All is well, it seems. But, here I am inside my house, pondering my life ahead and longing for the life I once had with my perfect wife Tammy. One year and two days later, I'm surviving but I haven't learned how to truly live again.

Well, I'm on the first day of year two (how is that possible!?) without my Tammy. It doesn't feel any different. I think all of us are in "one day at a time mode" from here on out.

Thank you for saying that. If I could, I'd go up to the highest mountain and cry out for all the world to hear about Tammy. She was everything to me. She was such a sweet soul. I was the luckiest man in the world. She may be gone in one sense, but I will make sure this world will never forget her. ----------------------------------------- On the subject of others dealing with our grief... I find that the people I deal with (mostly co-workers and relatives) just aren't equipped to deal with someone else's grief. I'm sure this has happened to you... Someone asks you "how you're doing" and if you go beyond the basic "I'm hanging in, doing the best I can" and start going into more detail, their eyes sort of glaze over. I think it's a combination of not knowing what to say and their preconceived notion of how long your grief should last. I've also learned to just sort of grin and bear the silly things people sometimes say to me. I know this is my grief journey and just like Frank Sinatra said, I'm doing it, my way.