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My name is Katie and I just lost my husband Bob 04/04/14. This is my story and I desperately need advice. We had been married 19 years and he had many health problems the last 10 years of his life. We sold our home last August because I was not able to take care of it because I worked full-time and my husband stayed at home and wasn't able to help me physically. We moved to a senior community last August and he was in and out of the hospital 4 times until his death. His last stay at Heart Institute was 18 days, where they gave us the dreadful news that they tried everything but he had less than 6 months to live. Hospice needed to come in our apartment that day. I met them and got everything set up and when I returned they had him ready to go home. He couldn't where his shoes because he was so swollen, his belly was distended and he really thought he had 6 months. I had talked to his heart Dr. privately and he had told me if he lasted 7 days, he would be shocked. My sister came to help take him home and we shared about 5 or 6 hours that were pretty memorable with him. He wanted me to go to the store and get his favorite foods because he was on restrictions for 18 days. Before I went, the nurse went over the morphine schedule with us, little did I know, I would get a call that he was coughing up blood. That was the beginning of the dying process for him. When I returned, I was only gone 25 minutes, he couldn't breath! we began giving him morphine to help with his "pain". Set up the oxygen, tried to keep him upright, running my fingers through his hair constantly, trying to calm him. During his suffering, he begged to go to the hospital. I assured him the morphine would peak and he would feel better. It was a long night. He prayed out to God, Father, you said anytime you invoke your name you would come, please help me father! Eventually he went in a deep coma. He was not responding to my voice or commands. My sister and I, about 4 in the morning, were going over the morphine schedule, hoping we weren't giving him too much. And out of no where, in the most clear, joyful words of a boy, he said, "Hi Grandma". I really believe his grandma came to meet him! The next day at 4:45 p.m. he took his last breath. I helped the nurse clean and prepare him. I'm a CNA and work with the elderly, so death in my mind, was not scary to me. I constantly relive those 24 hours, though. Since then, I bought a mobile home near family, I never had time to really grieve. Now I can do nothing but cry. And I have the problem of my son. He is 29. Was diagnosed with ADD in first grade and was medicated but it was always a struggle getting him through school. He did graduate but he quit taking his meds at 18 and he hasn't been working solid for such a long time, I fear he'll never be able to hold a job. He lived with his Dad and us off and on with his dog, so I had to move for fear of getting kicked out of the Senior Community. When Bob was still with me , I told him he had to leave because Bob's health was the priority and we couldn't deal with the stress. He lived in a hotel and continued his horrible lifestyle, smoking spice and dealing. This is where I made my mistake. I was so vulnerable, I told him he could live with me. Its been just horrible. I just realized how long I've been typing. I'm so sorry for burdening everyone with my problems. Please forgive me but I needed to talk to someone because its hard to share with friends and family because I'm so ashamed of him and I don't want them to know. Thank you so much for listening to me!