Margm

The Baptist pastor told me God was just beside me waiting for my reach. I knew/know that and know I will not have total peace or anything close to that until I quit being so stubborn. I want you all to know that you have helped me. I did have to take 1/2 Xanax this morning and I do not know where these are coming from. I knew where they were coming from when I was being treated at MD Anderson. One of my friends nursed her husband through his death from a devastating stroke, for seven years. She is a wonderful Christian and her faith has sustained her. I know I need my faith back. Billy helped lead me back during my cancer battle, but this time he is not here and I have to do things on my own. I printed out your note Debi. You, Kay, and all the others. You have helped me so much. I am an infant on this journey. I have to figure things out until "it is my time." Thank you all so much.

We live in a small town of 1000 people. When we first moved here and a semi-emergency occurred after 10:00 p.m., we quickly learned that we must make sure we have gas in the vehicles tanks or we go no where. Everything closes at 10:00 p.m. The closest town is 35-40 miles away in any direction. This is Arkansas. This is why we moved to this part of the state. Billy liked the rural. I liked the rural, but not if an all night Walmart was not within 10 miles. Luckily, my neighbor and I recognized this attack. I am sure she has been through them too. It had been a long time for me, so I thought maybe this was one of those "this is the big one Elizabeth" (If you remember Redd Fox show). My lawyer said give myself a year. Know I do not want to stay in this big empty house. Billy was no "homesteader," we were RVers that stopped for awhile to help raise a granddaughter till she decided this town was too small. That hurt us both, but we got over it, it was something she had to do and really gave us some freedom we had not had. We were planning on leaving this house to finish up our RVing we had started years before. When the long ago radiation caused my colon to rupture last year and overall sepsis, then we talked about what we would do if the other left. Actually, we both figured it would be me, although Billy would not have let me go without a fight. Thus the anger at his leaving so fast. We did not have time to fight. I was willing but he physically could not. So, see, I have come to face the truth. Accepting it is not the same. I still go over in the RV and cry to him about leaving me. I will get peace, I believe, once I allow my lifelong religious beliefs to take hold. Right now I know I am holding God at arm's length. I am aware of that, even though I know I need the peace that passes all understanding.

I have not been. Could not eat so I have subsisted on Billy's Boost and Ensure that he could not drink. I ate "solid" food though today and I feel better. Washed a McDonald's small HB down with coke Thursday. I honestly do not know what each day will bring. But you all know that. If I am going to do what we had planned though I have got to get rid of the fear, panic attacks, and wishes to not be here. I am going to try and hope it gets better. Or easier. Or anything livable.

Oh, I expound on here all the time. I had a panic attack this morning. I thought I was dying, even looked up my insurance for the kids. Went to see my friend Hettie who lost her husband two years ago and we agreed it was a panic attack. I had one when I had cancer 33 years ago. Today was a week. The Baptist pastor called me and I melted over the phone. My son is here with me, so I am really not afraid. I only woke once I think last night, so that was good. Tylenol PM works best, even over prescription drugs, except Xanax. I will get it together.

Beautiful story, beautiful wife. Beautiful couple.

I don't want to do this every week. I only woke up twice last night and did take pill to sleep. Tylenol PM works best. I do not want to think. I do not want to "see" what I saw last Saturday. Got to get the images out of my mind. I received a card from a classmate who lost her husband, she called him "sweetheart husband" 12 years ago. She quoted something that helped her "Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal; love leaves memories that no one can steal." Nothing reaches me. Only, I remember this person's husband passing years ago. Then her mother, then her brother, who was younger than her. You have to experience loss yourself to feel empathy for someone, otherwise you feel sympathy. I was not there for my friends, I was living in the moment of still having my spouse, knowing I would go first, selfishly hoping this. But one fussed with her husband, had to leave to go to a granddaughters surgery in another state. Called home over and over. An aneurysm or blood clot took this young man during the night while she was gone. That was 16 years ago and she did not even get to see his body. One nursed her husband for seven years from a stroke that took his way of life, before it took his life. There are so many "if's" that I cannot dwell on them. If I could have saved him last week end, we would still be facing a terrible death. I have no saving graces. I need the peace from God, but how can he reach me if I won't let him in? Now I think about the plans we made if either of us were to leave. We would get in the RV with cremains in the passenger seat, or seated safely close. But see, I was supposed to be the cremains. It sounded romantically tragic. Now it scares the dickens out of me to move anywhere without him by my side. I promised myself I would never be a burden to my kids, the way my mother is to my sister. My mother needs in a nursing home, but my sister would lose the house she lives in, that is my mothers. My daughter has gone back to NM. My son is here with me, but he has been with us now most of his life. He goes off for awhile, but then he comes back. I think maybe about getting a rental property back in Louisiana, which is our home, but Billy and I both hate homesteading. We were RVers, gypsies, nomads, meanderers. Now I feel like a big rock in the middle of the road. Life will come back to me if I look for it , but his life will not come back to me. I would not accept he was dying. He finally made me accept it last week-end, but I still cannot face reality. Went to see my neighbor, Hettie. Was feeling weird, disconnected to person, place that I was. I had had one of these before when I was fighting cancer 33 years ago. I did have to go to a psychiatrist (which Billy did not believe in going to, when I had him to talk to). This was serious though, I had run off and left a basket of groceries in the checkout line, ran trying to find my psychiatrist, could not find her and had to call her. I cannot remember how I called her now. We did not have a cell phone. Had to have help to get to her office. This morning was the same, I felt like I was dying, hyperventilating. I did take a whole Xanax, finally calmed down and instead of drinking only Boost and Ensure, I had a can of cream of chicken soup and a glass of V8 fruit juice. The soup was not bad. I ate it all. I had a small McDonald hamburger Thursday but had to wash it down with coke. Hard to swallow. I have to come out of this. I know it has been just a week, but does anyone have anxiety attacks? This was a definite, full fledged, think I am dying, don't care, panic attack.

It will be a week tomorrow morning. I sleep two hour intervals. He is not here to hold me. I did not hold him when he needed me most.

I wish I could get angry. Not yet.

After my own daddy died, my mom never showed any outward appearance of the grief that is crippling. She liked to talk about him having a smile on his face, but she was more satisfied with being angry at him for leaving her. She has Alzheimer's now. My dad passed in 1984. She now thinks she had two husbands. It seems anger would be so much more constructive than the crippling fear

I have so many friends that have lost their spouses and they are very supportive of me. I am so lucky. My heart goes out to you for your daughter too. The cracks in our marriage were in the first 20 years, the last 34 were the way marriage was supposed to be. He was my rock, he was not flawed, it was me that was flawed. But there I go again "Marg, you blame yourself for everything." I sure miss him.

He knew I took on blame for everything, some fault I had that sometimes he would get angry at me for, but not anger so much at me as at myself taking blame. That is one of my downfalls I have never been able to curb. Stupidity on my part. My main problem right now, other than missing him, is the fear I feel and that totally surprises me. When he passed I wanted to be alone. My grandmother did not want us grandkids staying with her after my grandfather passed away, but she put up with us. I wish I had her's and my mother's courage. Mama just got angry at Daddy for leaving her and I never saw this fear I have ever in her. I hate fear.

Thanks Brad. Some of my friends had worse circumstances than I did. One took care of her husband after a massive stroke for seven years. He kept pulling his feeding tubes out. You, as a man, maybe you can see where Billy's surrender came from. I don't mean surrender in a bad way. I think subconsciously he was trying to save me, but I don't think you men take to being "taken care of" the same way we women do. Somehow, it is giving up your life to having your woman bathe you, dress you, get a wheelchair and "baby" you. I did not mind any of this, but somehow, being a man, I think it bothered him very much. And when he put those beautiful palms up in a way that said he could not fight anymore, I got angry. I regret this so much. It haunts me every minute.. He loved to be close. I pulled away. He would say "Marg, you blame yourself for everything." I was not God, but I tried to be his saving grace. I failed. My last emotion he saw was anger.

Billy has not been "gone" a week. We had 54 years together. We were just 18 and 20 at the time. He told me he could not have children, which at 18 did not bother me. He had had mumps in his teens and was told he probably never would father children. Scott was born a week before our first anniversary. Then, I listened to a neighbor with seven children tell me about the rhythm method of birth control, and along came Kelli, our beautiful daughter five years after Scott. Billy was my rock, but rocks break and our marriage had lots of cracks, but had evolved into a perfect love, friendship. I was ill some. Never him. Our oncologist told us "shoulda, coulda, woulda" did not count. We thought it was only his herniated disks acting up, but after being diagnosed with a brain aneurysm, and a fast train going downhill Stage IV liver cancer, too fast to stop, he passed away less than six weeks later. He was very stoic. Out of 90 pain pills he only took 40 and I gave them to him without him asking, even if I saw the faintest sign of pain. We watched both of our fathers pass away slowly, horribly with cancer. I think mercifully, he went fast, even though mercy is a word I can only use for him. There is no mercy for the survivor, certainly not right now. We did not discuss his actual death. They told us months. I kept telling him I could not live without him as his body changed to bones by feel and sight. I know he knew. He said "Don't you know I see the worry in your eyes." His unsaid words were that he had to go. I was angry with him for giving up. His last emotion from me was anger and I will forever be haunted by this. I considered going to a grief group in the city 40 miles away. After he passed I wanted to be alone. Now, I am afraid to be alone.. He and I discussed this when I was so ill. We are not "homesteaders." We are/were RVers. Our plans were if either went first, the other would live in a very small Class C RV and carry the cremains on the passenger side. It sounded plausible when we planned it, even sadly romantic. I still have a wonderful support group of women, some old classmates, some former transcriptionists that I had the pleasure to be also friends with, and a wonderful neighbor who lost her husband two years ago. Now, I cannot explain this fear. This fear of seeing his picture, fear of picking up the cremains, fear of signing anything that has to do with his death. Sleep only comes two hours at a time, even with pills. Actually, Tylenol PM works the best. I have learned the difference between sympathy and empathy. I wished Billy and I had discussed this. Maybe he would have if I had let him. I wanted a miracle. Now, I cannot explain or understand this immobilizing fear I have. Is this a normal process?

My friend took care of her husband seven years after a massive stroke. She makes it by reading her Bible, having faith in God, and praying. Somehow my screaming into a pillow only gave me a headache. I have done this 3-4 times and it always hurts my head and accomplishes nothing.. He is not coming back and I did not want him to go. Then I saw where this blind woman lost her mate of 70 years and had to move into a nursing home. She had the room described to her and she said she loved it. She just wakes up in the morning loving each day. I see Billy's picture and I cry, but it is all I have of him to see. So crazy we are and somehow I don't think I am going to get any sanity back at all. Still, I used to be religious and when I had my cancer, I told Billy I felt so lost, I could not pray. Then he told me the story of the shepherd who has 100 sheep and one goes astray. He leaves those 99 sheep for that one lost one and Billy helped me get my religious feelings back. Now they are gone and I want to find them but get angry at God.

He was in a Hot Springs Hospital, St. Vincent, when he passed. We live in (I am going to go ahead and leave the "we" because I still think of him here) in Mount Ida, AR. I think we just went over 1000 population. Our home state was Louisiana though, my relatives are there and I think I will eventually go back. I have friends there that have gone through this. My neighbor did also though, and I will miss her very much. Billy and I were never "homesteaders." We preferred to RV travel and we only settled down to help raise our now 16-year-old granddaughter. I don't think I have cried today. I have come close. I went in to see my friends at St. Vincent (used to be St. Joseph's) and I had retired from there. Also retired from LSU in Shreveport, so will be gong back to around the Minden area. No snap decisions. Gonna take it easy. Our lawyer told me to wait a year before I made major decisions but I think and hope by spring I will know what to do. This was not supposed to be him. I was supposed to go first. I used to read him romantic tragedies about husbands and wives who died within hours of each other. He finally told me that he would not want to live if I went first, but he would try to carry on the best he could. Maybe he was telling me something. But, I was the one that was sick, he was only ill about seven weeks. I know I should take comfort in that, but right now I feel no comfort. I just miss him and screaming into pillows only gives you a headache. Thank God for my support system of girls I graduated high school with and my neighbor and middle aged kids. Thanks for responding.

Grief is exhausting. kayc, you helped me today. :"We'll be together soon, that everything will be okay." I just thought that this time last month Billy was worried about losing his beard to chemo. He does not have to worry about that anymore, but I wish I could just hug him.

I am well prepared for "not eating." I had our RV refrigerator stocked with all the good stuff, every flavor of the Boost Plus, the most richly endowed Ensure's. I could not get him to take any of them. I think the chemo took his taste away from him. In the end, he was throwing up his own body because we could not get anything down him. He refused/could not eat or drink. So, I have all these drinks that I can tolerate, but right now I cannot tolerate eating. Who knew that when I bought all these nourishing drinks, I was actually buying them for myself.

Thank you all so much. I have so much business to take care of, but taking care of him was my first thought and act. When I get in the truck driving anywhere I talk to him, tell him how sorry I am for not holding him, and I can hear him say "Marg, you are always blaming yourself for everything." I took an Ambien to sleep last night. I saw him sitting on the end of the bed. He did not say anything. The Ambien did not help me sleep but till 2:30 a.m. It was my first one ever. The doc told me how to take it, go to bed and stay in bed, so I was safe with it. I read somewhere that the 2nd year is worse. My grandmother wrote a "book" for her grandchildren. When my grandfather passed, she said she had lost her best friend. I was 12-years-old and I can remember her saying that to her brother the day he passed. In her "book" she said the hurting was supposed to get easier but it didn't. She outlived him about 20 years. He was 27 and she was 15 when they married. I understand her now.

I agree, it is almost like a curse. I am so selfish, I wanted to go first. My wanting to be "alone" the first day has grown into fear of being alone on the 3rd day. I have a wonderful support group.......except for the person I used to tell everything to. I have no answers.

I have so many friends who have lost their mates, so I have a wonderful support service. I just wish I could have held him and just told him to let go instead of trying so hard to fight. He told me "don't you think I see the worry in your eyes" and his insinuation was that he needed to go. He put his beautiful hands up to me palm up when I brought the urinal to him. He did not want the urinal, he was telling me he could not fight anymore. I miss him so much. I know I did not love him any more than my friends loved their husbands, but I wish I could sew up this raw wound. Thank you all for your kind words.

It has only been three days. I have taken care of the cremation. I am haunted by his hands outstretched to me in the hospital bed showing he had to give up. I am not angry at him, I am angry at me. I could have held him while he passed. I didn't, and I cannot forgive myself. He helped me through cancer. He was the rudder to my ship when my colon ruptured. I could not have made it without him and yet I feel I let him down those couple of hours he passed away. It was a terrible night in the ER, 4-5 hours wait with me going up to the desk over and over saying he needed a bed. I kept him covered up and held him then. We got to the hospital room at 4:00 or 5:00 a.m. I kept fussing because he would not keep his arm straight with the needle in it and I had to keep resetting the buzzer on the drip machine. Will I ever be able to forgive myself? I was a good caretaker and never minded one second of helping him. He went down in six weeks and thankfully there was not much pain. If there was, I gave him a pain pill, but he did not require much. It was already Stage IV liver/colon ? cancer when it was found in September. He was riding the elliptical 30 minutes at a time in August. They did the liver biopsy at a teaching hospital in Little Rock and it was all downhill after that. He slept mostly 24/7 without any sleeping pills or anything. He said "don't you think I see the worry in your eyes?" But I kept telling him I could not live without him. He just went so fast. We had been married 54 years and I never minded caring for him at all. He took care of me, that is what I was here for. He minded though. Even his walking was taken away and he hated me putting him in a wheelchair. He only had two chemo sessions.