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I really hope this doesn’t bring back difficult memories for you, but for those who care to share; I would love to know about the last moments you had with your significant other. 

For me, I was truly blessed.  I was actually holding my wife’s hand as she passed (with our children at her bedside).  I cannot put in to words how much the following helped soften the blow (as she did die unexpectedly).  

There is such a sense of warmth I get reflection on our 30 years together, realizing I was with her until the absolute very end.  

This is the greatest gift God has EVER blessed me with. 

Our final words happened when I could see she was in pain, so I gently grabbed her tiny hand and started massaging it (as I had a thousand times before).  
She quietly said, “that feels good”.  

We made eye contact and kind of smiled at each other with our eyes.  

 My eyes said “thank you” to her as I continued to massage her hand. We could talk with our eyes at times as I imagine many of you can relate  

About a minute or so later she quickly sat up, then essentially went under and they could not bring her back.

I’ll say it again, it was a total shock.  This was very early in the morning and  I remember one of my final thoughts being what I was going to cook for her at home that night.  

As unexpected as it was, I will thank God every day for my remaining time just how fortunate I was to be there with her during this experience.  

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I almost don’t have the words to respond with the happy/sad mix of emotions I feel from reading your post. You were truly blessed to have a loving marriage, and also to have those final moments before her passing. 

My scenario is quite the opposite. I’ve shared final moments with the ME and with some people on my healing team, but I haven’t shared those details with family or friends. Not sure if I’ll share my final moments here as it involved severe distress on my husband’s end and utter chaos on my side. Not exactly something one may want to read. I will however share my late husband’s cause of death once I get the report. I passed the 20 month mark on the 10th, still no word and the clock is still ticking

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For me also, it was the most horrific weekend of my life!  I was gone to my sister's reunion...as soon as I left, George started having a heart attack and drove himself to the clinic, where they gave him a nitroglycerin and sent him by ambulance to the hospital, an hour from there.  He didn't want the doctor to notify me and "ruin my weekend!"  A friend of ours called me that night.  My sister would not drive me to the hospital for TWO DAYS!  Needless to say I could not sleep, I was frantic.  I called George and he said he'd be in testing all day and wouldn't be able to see me anyway.  I didn't care, I just wanted to be there.  FINALLY on Sunday my sister dropped me off at the hospital.  When I got there, there was a room full of people and the heart surgeon (he was awaiting surgery for the following morning) explained everything they found...that's when I went into shock and couldn't hear what he was saying, everything went faint and quiet, like it was far away.  They moved him to ICU (why wasn't he there already?!) and when they let me in, he was asleep.  I started stroking his hand.  He was freezing cold, I ran for the nurses station, this was unlike him, he was always peeling off layers!  They threw a sheet on him and left.  I remember monitoring him.  Then he woke up having a heart attack and I ran to their station again, and they called code and doctors came running!  They started working on his heart...the nurse threw me off the ward and locked the door behind me!  I found a little room to pray in.  About an hour later four doctors were coming towards me...I remember thinking, "This must be what a vet's widow feels like...." they didn't have to say a word, I knew.  I screamed, "NOT MY HUSBAND!!!" with wails that would break anyone to hear.

 

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Thanks for sharing your story kayc. I've decided to share my final moments omitting certain details.

Five weeks prior to my husband’s death he was in a bike accident resulting in a tibia-fibula fracture on his right lower leg. His fibula, smaller calf bone, had a spiral fracture and his tibia or shinbone was broken near his ankle requiring surgery with a plate and pins.

Surgery went fine and he was convalescing at home. He couldn’t weight-bear and was sleeping on the sectional in the living room so he didn’t have to navigate stairs. Five weeks later, on December 10th I woke up to him moaning. I flew down the stairs thinking it was his leg. He said he was extremely nauseous so I gabbed him a bowl and instantly called 911.

Things went from back to worse rather rapidly. He was flailing about on the couch, appeared extremely restless and the moaning intensified. I told 911 that he recently had surgery on his leg and was told to ask him if his leg hurt. I asked him, but he just looked at me blankly and said, “What?” I touched his casted leg and asked again. The response was the same blank look and “What?”

At a certain point he was struggling to breath, and I swear I saw him take his last breath. I freaked, told 911, and ran to the front door to open it. As I did, I saw both EMS and Fire coming up the walkway. I told them I think he stopped breathing and ended the 911 call while directing them into the living room. I stepped back into the kitchen to give them space. I heard someone say they couldn’t find a heartbeat, then they said they could. Next thing I knew they were off to hospital, and I couldn’t go due to Covid.

My sister came over and drove us to the Medical Centre. Once there a lady led us into a room and said the doctor will be with us shortly. I told my sister, “The fact that were in this room is Not a good sign.” Then the ER doctor and another physician, along with the lady who stated she was a social worker came in. It was the ER that doctor told me he didn’t make it. It felt like my world shrank to the size of a pin hole. All I could say was, “But we’re expecting out first grandchild in February.”

My grandson has been the greatest blessing over the last 18 months, although it’s bitter-sweet as my Michael is missing all the love and joy this little boy has to give. I often wonder what he would think of his grandson’s vibrant blue eyes, mess of soft curls and his cheerful disposition.

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Wow, he went fast, what was the cause of death?  It's such a shock, it's hard to absorb or process.  

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Yup, so fast and hard to process for sure. It was so sudden and unexpected I went into shock. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my daughter only a few hours later, and all I could say was, “This is so f^cked up,” because it didn’t seem real.

So cause of death is still a mystery. It’s been 20 months and I’m still waiting for the report. Initial autopsy showed no sign of heart attack, stroke, infection or septicaemia, and no blood clots were detected, so it went into secondary autopsy for pathology testing.

I’ve been calling the ME office every 2-3 months just to get in their ear. I called in mid June and they said, “Testing is done, the ME just needs to write the report.” I asked how long that would take, they said about 2 weeks. I waited 2 weeks and 1 day, then called them back. They told me the report was done, but the ME just needs to review a couple sections. I asked how long that would take and they said a few weeks. It’s been another month and nothing. Now I’m starting to wonder what they’re trying to cover up. 

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This makes no sense to me.  How in the world can it possibly take so long for an answer?   Did you get the death certificate?  I know that would hold up everything legal.  And why would there be anything to cover up?   From who and for what reason?  This is so odd.

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It makes no sense to me either. Yes, I got a death certificate within days of his death. The cause of death is a separate document, and yes it has put some legal things on hold. Why it's taking so long is a mystery. The possible cover up could be from the surgeon or attending staff in recovery. We were told he would get anti-clotting medication after surgery, I don't know if that happened, I just assumed it did, but who knows. I was told that EMS injected him with anticoagulant medication, so if there was a blood clot in his system that medication would have broken it up and perhaps that's why it wasn't detected in the initial autopsy. I know it all sounds odd - it's even more bizarre living it.

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Unreal!  I hope you get some answers soon!

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  • 2 weeks later...

This is hard but we were half a country away from each other when he got real sick with covid. Their doctors decided I could not be in the room. At first we thought he was going to be OK 2 days later no and I had to say goodbye on the phone and that I was sorry. Of course I was so beside myself with shock and fear that was all I could say. I think he started to cry but nurse hung up. I drove there because I did not want to wait 2 days for flight. I stood outside the glass and his room was plumb full of about every nurse from wing. The Dr tried to rescistate him and he looked at me through glass and reached his hand for me and he was so weak his arm just slumped down. I screamed cried and nurse dragged me away and they rescistate him 4 times and then they let him die. They killed him and there's nothing I can do and I had to say goodbye like he was in jail and know everything feels like jail to me.

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Oh Sheemie, this is horrible, I am so sorry, it's much like when I lost my George and the nurse threw me off the ward and locked the door behind me.  What are these medical personnel thinking!!!  They don't care that we were joined at the hip!  They don't care that I was his Little One.  That we were soulmate thru all time...our wedding bands even said so!  God the images they leave for us to live with.

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