Kieron

Meant to be, I suspect! 🥰

Wow, Gwen, that's a profound analogy if there ever was one.

yeah, you always wonder about new people who make an appearance but don't stay, and sometimes they have such an effect that you often where they went, if they're okay.

That's too bad that she didn't live to see this very important legislation. The violence against Native women is under-reported but widespread, but people are finally starting to become aware of it and actually talk about it, which can only help.

While I was there at the moment Mark passed, and don't remember any smile or other expression on his face, I do remember the distinct feeling that all the air had been sucked out of the hospital ICU room. It was like a depressurized space where all the oxygen had escaped, like a wind in the doorway feels if you stand on the threshold. I remember gasping for air as though I couldn't breathe. Then the sensation was gone, as though a great, big door had slammed shut, restoring "space normal." Without going into any great detail, I felt--and still feel--as though a great force, bigger than anything I can comprehend, came along and bore his spirit off, or else it was the departure of a huge force of nature from this dimension. He was certainly larger than life in some ways. 🥰

Johnny, the first anniversary was the hardest. it felt like a door slamming shut on the past, *our* past. 😢

it took a long time to reach a point where I felt able to live or exist in a way that was more than mere "autopilot." At one time or another, in varying degrees, I was eventually able to develop these habits: Resting or allowing myself to sleep more, especially in the dark winter months; making sure I ate decent food and stayed hydrated; adopting a habit of exercise daily (Tai Chi, in my case), and avoiding toxic people, violent media/TV/movies, etc. Learning to stop my mental wandering down unhelpful paths was especially hard, i.e. replaying what happened, singling out people whose behavior or inaction led to the death, etc. These are just what worked for me. Your mileage may vary. I'm sure others who have been at this longer will have wonderful suggestions. 😊

Welcome, Amberley, and I am sorry that Life dealt you this harsh hand. All the wishes and struggles you describe are felt by others, in their own way and individual experience. That feeling of being able to write an entire book about what happened, I do know that feeling. The feeling of slipping, of having nothing left to live for, and struggling with faith, are things that I feel we each have to work on all the time, and when we can't hold on, that's what things like therapy and grief support groups are for. Edit: and of course calling crisis services when necessary. All I could do in the aftermath was breathe, take it one moment at a time if necessary, and try to express the onslaught of grief emotions when I could, or wait them out when I could not express them. Everyone here "gets it" so don't hesitate to come here to vent, remember, wonder out loud, and confide.

Three years ago today, Mark collapsed from what would turn out to be septic shock. He had been anxious the night before over some physical issues that, in hindsight, were a warning, but I dismissed them because they were seemingly minor and anything like this had always turned out to be nothing. I wasn't as patient with him as I wish I had been. When he didn't come home by midafternoon, I started to wonder and worry, and he didn't answer his cell phone. Finally he did manage to answer, but sounded groggy and far away and I heard someone in the background say, "We have to send you to the hospital. You fell down and were out here for some time. Something is wrong." I gathered that they were sending him to a certain hospital. My life and his just went sideways from there, and everything slid out from under us, tumbled headlong into an abyss I am still picking my way out of.

Welcome, and I'm sorry that this devastating loss has come to pass. I felt a little eerie reading your first post as my given name is the same as your son's and my birthday falls within those days in which no one knew he had died. That's exactly how it feels. 😞

You write so well and so touchingly about your beloved grandpa. It sounds like this loss was something you could see coming a long way off, and sometimes that makes it seem even worse because you know it can't be halted. I'm so very sorry you are enduring this. I hope you will keep writing about him.

This is very true. Quality over quantity! 😐

Welcome, and sorry that Life has turned out this way, that you lost your dad and that it seems you given little or no time to grieve and care for yourself. I'm going to say some potentially difficult things, with the understanding that I am interpreting and filtering. through my own lens of life experience, what you have described. Apologies if anything seems harsh because it isn't intended to be. I would like to ask: who, if anyone, has tried to make things as easy as possible for.... you? A year has passed. Each of you grieves in your own way. However... It sounds as though she has been carried, supported and helped, basically treated like glass from the sound of it, all this time. It seems that in her mental state, she has given little thought to who else is suffering... you. You are the one who was forced to shove aside your feelings and be the adult when she could not be. We all go a little crazy when we lose someone we love, and we all do and say stupid things in the aftermath. Heaven knows I did. Her behavior is her own choice. Hurtful as it is, it's her own behavior that she has to answer for. You can't change her or control her. My suggestion is to work on yourself and let her work on herself. You did all the work in the aftermath, the obituary, the funeral, etc. Now you need to be given time to work on you. Seems to me someone needs to acknowledge how you stepped up to the plate, not just her in that way you felt was insincere. Has anyone else done so? Lastly, you describe yourself as a caregiver, and it sounds like you work with people living with or battling cancer. I would respectfully ask you to consider whether it is time to do some caregiving for your own self? Have you gone on a little vacation? Seen a bodyworker/certified massage therapist (because your body is probably aching from all the grief and emotions)? And then to consider seeing an experienced individual and/or family therapist/counselor/psychologist who can help you examine the relationship you have with your mom which sounds very complicated, made even more so by this death of someone you both love.

Wow, what a great reading selection! 💕😍

Kay, that's a cute one, and here's something similar I found somewhere online...

I would agree with Kay, if only for this reason: as the patient's only voice in this matter, you have every right to seek an explanation from the care provider. Or, to be really blunt, you also paid for this type of service, so as a customer, you can demand more information from the vet. I would suspect the veterinary clinic has a patient's bill of rights. Maybe get a copy of that and prepare yourself by reading through it?

Thanks, Kay. I hadn't considered that perspective of rushing to put her in hospice versus hospitalize her... I too am sorry for all the seemingly endless series of losses you have described. Wow. Yes, I have a pretty good idea of how my aunt feels now. It's barely been 24 hours since he died. The shock, the hollow feeling, automatically thinking "I need to tell him... oh yeah." I think they were married longer than I have been alive, and it sounds like the memorial/funeral will be on my birthday next week. 😑

Well, here I am again. Another death to contend with and it's predictably bringing up some of the old crud from 2.5 years ago that I haven't yet shared here. In July, my favorite uncle began experiencing severe back pain that was unexplained, and eventually his wife made him go to the doctor in late September. It appeared he had some kind of myeloma, but tests were inconclusive and so they got another opinion in this state, with a doctor who ordered other tests, including chemo once it was determined this was needed. I visited twice. He seemed to be doing well, and a few days later was eventually sent home with instructions for follow-up care, and I urged them to get a hospital social worker involved before leaving for home, to set up home care services, ramp into the house, shower chair, etc etc. etc. Since they live in another state I can't be sure how successful my advice was, but they seemed to be coping fairly well with help from caregivers and family/friends, until recently, when he had to go to ICU for apparent sepsis (this is really bad stuff) and the cancer appeared to be spreading aggressively despite the treatments. Long story short, they decided on hospice, which was the right call, and the hospice setting kept him comfortable and pain-free, although groggy, and hospice staff supported her throughout. He passed away this morning, and it's not completely surprising, I guess... 😞 Where *I* am getting hung up is the return of resentment and anger that Mark was not given the option of hospice. Not one freaking person, not even the rehab center "social worker" (sneer quotes because she was negligent in the extreme, here), said "You know, it seems like we need to explore hospice." I was getting daily phone reports that he was sleeping a lot, not doing his rehab exercises (which were voluntary in this facility), not eating much, etc. Despite my daily visits, he seemed to be withdrawing, to the point where I wondered if he was depressed, certainly withdrawing from me. In retrospect, all the signs were there, that he was preparing to let go, but he didn't say anything about how he was really feeling or what he was thinking. The day before he died, he was breathing very shallowly, was very spacey and uncoordinated when out of bed, and despite my request that he be checked for CO2 in his bloodstream (not the oximeter reading, this is something different, it;'s like CO2 poisoning when you can't excrete the carbon dioxide in your body by breathing it out the way a healthy person can), the facility charge nurse basically dismissed my concerns, saying "You need to calm down." As if I was screaming or something. Had I been his wife, I bet you he'd have listened to me. All day long, Mark just existed in limbo. They eventually did call the on-call doctor for advice, only after I badgered them. Not much was really done that I recall. He was sent to the emergency room overnight (they left an unintelligible notification message on the wrong telephone number) and when I went in the morning to see him, his room was empty of most of his belongings. I only then found out he'd been sent to the hospital for unresponsiveness. You don't say! And THEN I screamed at the same charge nurse, "I TOLD you something was wrong!" and he started to look a little guilty. By the time I got to the hospital, Mark had been admitted but was breathing badly, gasping for air, and it turned out he had a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lungs). He was barely conscious, and refused offers of food. They were preparing to move him to ICU, I believe... it's all a blur by now... and so around 3 hours later, I told the hospital nurse (who actually listened to me) I would go home for 15 minutes to get something to eat. 15 minutes later she called me and said "You may want to get back here, he's going downhill fast." It's a short distance away so I was there in half an hour after parking, but as I got to the floor, I heard them call "Code Blue" with his room number. All kinds of people rushed past me before I got there, and someone must have realized who I was, and they asked me to wait in a nearby room. A housekeeper who had been mopping his room earlier in the day kindly sat with me, even though her shift was over. Eventually they moved him to ICU and he was put on a ventilator, the whole nine yards. After stabilization, I had a few very close friends of his come to visit to say goodbye just in case, and got his sister to fly in, and I'm glad I did. The next morning, we had a care conference with the intensivist (the doctor who presides over the ICU) who determined that he had absolutely no quality of life, and he would not survive a trip home. THEN... hospice was started. Only then! (mind you, I don't fault the hospital. They felt he should have been sent in much sooner. No kidding.) So at most, we had maybe 3-4 hours of hospice when he was started on palliatives and comfort meds, and taken off the vent. Everyone who was able to be, was present as he was made comfortable. And even then he waited until he heard his sister say, "It's okay, Mark, you can go." And then it was my turn to tell him, "Yeah, It's okay. I'll be fine. I have people watching over me." And then he was gone, just a moment later. Just wanted to be sure, I guess... 😥 So.... I don't begrudge or resent my uncle getting to have hospice, not in the least, but it's so very hard not to look back and think, "Why the hell did it take all this effort to bring about hospice for Mark?" I'm going to try very hard not to even mention it when the funeral takes place next week, but it will be on my mind constantly.

As a writer, Marg, I disagree with the above. It all made perfect sense. Your fishing rod story was cute, even if you were livid at the time! 😂

Aint that the truth. 🙄

Kay, I saw this and thought you would get a little smile out of it. 🤡

You are welcome here, one writer to another, although I am sorry to hear what you went through. I wrote copiously after Mark died 2.5 years ago, more than I had done in the previous decade, and like you, I don't do pen on paper (except to jot down rhymes as they come to me) and incorporate them into poetry, or turns of phrase that catch my ear or that pop into my mind spontaneously. If I don't jot them, I lose them. Now that's almost unbearable for a writer! 🙄 I hope you will continue to write, be it here or elsewhere in the cloud.

Dump the doc. There has to be another doctor more understanding and sympathetic in your area. Can you call your health insurance carrier or managed care organization/company and ask for a referral? If you are hospitalized, you have the right to ask for a social worker or patient advocate or other hospital representative to meet with you and discuss your options. You don't have to go through this alone.

I, too, am sorry that you have found yourself n this club that no one wants to join. For you, it's been barely a month, so the grief is raw, fresh, and sharp-edged. It hurts like nothing else does. I remember how it felt as though I was a well-rooted plant that had been yanked from the soil and tossed aside, to wilt and wither, exposed to drying winds and harsh sunlight. It's like no other feeling in the world. Kay's tips are good ones. I have found that the only way through grief is literally through it. There will be what they call a "grief tsunami". Let it wash over you when it comes. It will find you no matter what you do, so let it have its way. And whatever gets you through the day, through the hours, the minutes, is yours to decide, I think. Mine was to write. I wrote incredible amounts of poetry, some of it bad, much of it pretty good (in my opinion 😎). I also journaled a lot, and worked in the yard, or on something creative like cooking because Mark was a fantastic chef and I think I was trying to emulate him (never coming close though... his soups and stews and sauces were phenomenal). Wishing you some measure of peace.

Wow, and here I thought I had heard my share of stupid remarks. That even tops the one I was subjected to (a few weeks back) in terms of insensitivity. Do people even hear themselves spouting these asinine opinions?