July 28 Should Have Been Our 10th Anniversary

[Korina]

It is July 27 as I am writing this, with a pit of grief and fear in my stomach. Tomorrow should have been our 10th Anniversary, but my soulmate, my husband, was taken on June 19. As everyone here knows, the pain is indescribable. I am still in a state of denial, I think. You see, my baby (he really was my first baby) was in treatment for alcohol addiction when he was admitted to the hospital for a fever. I visited on the Sunday (I tried to keep to the visiting rules for the treatment centre), and he looked better - I only worried that he wouldn't return to treatment. But then on Tuesday late I received a call he was in ICU with an infection, and the mortality rate for his condition was high. Unbelievable!!! Three days later, I made the unthinkable decision to discontinue treatment. They were giving him maximum medication, but his vitals were slowly but surely failing. Total organ failure - I was told that if they could save his body, and they couldn't, that it might very well not be the man I knew who came back.

All I keep thinking is that life is not fair. We (friends and family) worked so hard to get him into treatment. And it was starting to work! I was so hopeful and happy. And for an infection to take him....I second guess every single move I made - from getting him into treatment to wishing I had done so earlier (if it would have been possible). I feel like I killed him. Why didn't I ask more questions at the hospital, why didn't I stay overnight with him the last night he was lucid (ICU would not let my daughter into the ward, and I was in a hospital that was not in our hometown), etc etc etc. Why didn't I visit him more at the hospital? Why didn't I tell him I loved him when he was lucid? I don't think I really believed he could die. And the worst part is the fact that I had left him for 5 weeks before an intervention leading to his admission to treatment - he didn't really see his baby girl (born in Feb 09) for that whole time (though he did see her once he was in treatment). Becoming a father was the proudest thing he had ever done, and I feel absolutely terrible.

But the last 2 days, though he was not conscious, I was able to lie on the bed with him, talk to him, have our friends and family talk to him. And I am grateful on the last day he was conscious, that he and the chaplain spoke, though my first baby was not a religious person. The nurses then let our daughter in. They set it up so all three of us were on the bed together, her on his legs. Through this time, I was extremely lucky to have friends and family rally around me and take care of our 4.5 month old daughter, so I could then focus on my husband. His vitals would play tricks on me, sometimes looking better, but inevitably failing.

So here I am now, trying to type through very teary eyes. We fell in love instantly 20 years ago. We were very hard on each other at times, but made it through the tough times, only to end up here, my baby girl without her daddy. Tomorrow should have been our happiest anniversary, yet. It took so long for us to get pregnant.... He was the love of my life, my supporter, he made me a better person, he completed me, he was and always will be my soulmate, he was my life for half of mine. He was the smartest and funniest and most generous person I knew, who lived with a terrible terrible disease. I will never forgive the disease. I feel like dying - I want to be with him, again. But my baby girl needs me, I love her intensely - she is a part of him and gives me a reason to get up every morning. Going through the apartment, I see little notes of his, plans he had been making - the everyday stuff is the killer. I am afraid of tomorrow. But I am going to get a pewter clock with an inscription to mark the day (it won't be ready on time, but I don't think he will mind, as he never was one for dates and schedules). I picked up a card that will go in the heartbreak drawer. And I will put this entry into my letters to him. One day our daughter may want to read them. I hope to have dinner with our girl and some friends.

There will be a lot of time to fill tomorrow, but I momentarily feel better now, having written this down in a safe place with people who have been there. Thanks for listening.

Korina

[kayc]

Korina...I want to wish you a happy anniversary but that rings hollow, how happy can it be? These are the times you don't know what to say, but I've been through it so I want to say something...

I wish for you to be able to survive the day with as little sadness as possible, with good thoughts of him and the happy memories bringing some comfort to you. Is there someone you could call to be with you today? Maybe if you make plans for something and you aren't alone it'll help.

Thinking of and praying for you,

Kay

[Korina]

Kay:

I am going to go do a workout in a few minutes (we have a little gym in our apt building). I take little Kailyn down with me and set her up on an exercise mat with some toys and she is usually pretty good. I am going for a walk with a friend this afternoon, and then hopefully will be having dinner with friends tonight. I am also going to go and get a couple of my wedding flowers (I think I will press them afterwards). I have only cried a little bit so far (though I cried a lot last night).

Thanks for your prayers.

Korina

[valley]

Korina,

Please take care. Be gentle with yourself and cry and cry and cry. It is good to cry. It helps relieve so much tension.

I think we all second guess the decisions we have made regarding treatment for illness. We second guess what we should have done to save our loved ones. But that is all they are....guesses. I am sure you acted in the best interests of your partner, you child and yourself.

There is nothing harder than losing the ones we love.

Take care,

Valley

[kath]

Dear Korina,

I hope you are doing okay today, being with friends. It won't be easy, but hang on to the good memories for today. Your story struck me on so many levels. Your husband's infection and how fast it all went. My husband was told he had an infection, but they didn't know where. Within a day, all his organs started shutting down. I went from having so much hope to just incredible disbelief at how fast he deteriorated. I had to make the decision to stop the fluids and then his respirator. I questioned those decisions over and over again.

Getting him into treatment...After 10 years I'm sure you lived through your share of ups and downs. It is a shame that you were cheated out of the best chance at having him clean and sober. It is a horrible illness and affects all those that love him. What you did to get him into treatment was a testimony to your love. Don't regret it. He saw you and his daughter through bright, clear eyes. What a treat for all of you!

Your little girl...Yes, she needs you. She needs you to tell her all the things that were so special about her daddy. And don't forget to tell her all the things her daddy loved about you, too.

I'm sorry you are going through this. I'm glad you found us.

Kath

[Korina]

Kath:

Thank you for the support - the group seems to be quite wonderful. I have lots of plans for telling Kailyn about her Daddy (easier said than done, I imagine...). Wow, your husband's infection and situation sounds so horribly similar. When we discontinued my husband's medication, I made sure Kailyn was present (morbid, maybe?) because I want to be able to tell her she was there for him. He slipped away within probably a minute - startlingly fast. I listened to his chest as his heart stopped. How long did it take you to stop questioning your decisions? Do those questions ever go away?

Korina

[Korina]

I never really imagined anything could hurt this much. I have cried all this last week (of course, before, but I found this last week to be particularly tough). Strangely, today I was pretty good. I kept Kailyn and I quite busy for the day, but I also feel Scott has been with me more than ever, making sure I would be okay on what should have been a wonderful day. I am just about to take the little girl out to the ocean front (we are a couple of blocks away) to talk to him, even though she is sleeping. We got married in Kauai, and he loved the hearing the water.

I am waiting for the second guessing to go away. It comes in waves. I am meeting with a counsellor tomorrow - hope it is a good fit.

Thanks a bunch for the good words.

Korina

[kayc]

Korina,

I want to add that my sister was in a coma for 4 1/2 months and she said later that she was aware of people coming to visit, what they'd say, etc., only she couldn't respond. I'm sure your husband knew you laid there with him when he was unconscious and also knew how much you loved him. You were together a long time...it was the alcoholism you rejected, not him. I went through something similar with my George...I learned just three weeks before he died that he'd been using Meth and I was very stern with him about what I required and expected of him if he wished to stay with me. One of my requirements was that he get treatment from a Drug/Alcohol Counselor and he was going over his material when he had a heart attack. My sister later asked me if I felt bad that I'd given him "tough love" and I said, "No, I said what he needed to hear...it just so happens he died when he did." George knew I loved him, he knew he was my everything, my very breath and life, we both knew that about each other, only his hour had come for whatever reasons. You did not cause your husband's situation, nor his death, and he knew you were his biggest fan and supporter...but you chose the higher path of supporting him and not his addiction. Someone once told me that maybe God chose to spare George what he would have had to have gone through...maybe...maybe that's what happened in your husband's case too. I guess I felt a bit of anger after George died about his escaping it but I got stuck with it instead...but anger is just part of grief, it needn't make any sense or be reasonable, it just is...by and large I am glad he is spared and out of it and if I was stuck with it, well, I must have been deemed the stronger one, at any rate, I have survived and am okay and one day we'll be reunited and all will be well.

You are experiencing what so many of us have...but please be kind to yourself and recognize you were the best thing that ever happened to your husband and I think he well knew it.

[Boo Mayhew]

Korina, my heart goes out to you. Our wedding anniversary was on the 21st July ... it is too sad that we have to endure this. I managed to cope with the day by literally sleeping for a solid 24 hour stretch (except for half an hour to let the dogs pee and eat, and make a sandwich) ... the dogs didn't seem to mind sleeping that long with me ... so I totally avoided it - and that was the answer for me this year. Not even going to think about next year - not capable!

Sending you hugs and strength

x

[Maryo]

Hi Korina, Kay, Kath, Valley and Boo,

I read all the posting twice to Korina. We are in very good hands.

I want to thank everyone for all the inspiration words. Sometimes you read something and it touches your heart because

there is not a clear reason why we have to experience all this sorrow, but maybe we are the stronger ones as so lovely put by Kay and I would not want my husband to go through what I am going through because I loved him that much.

Hope that makes sense?

Mary

[Korina]

Thank you to EVERYONE for your words of support. It is comforting to know now that people can hear when they are in a coma. I spoke to Scott a lot during that time, and had others speak to him, as well, sometimes from the phone (held it to his ear). I just hope he wasn't afraid anymore, because I believe, from things he said, and some of his notes that I read afterwards, that he was afraid he might die. It hurts so much to think he was afraid. But I do know he was surrounded by a tremendous amount of love from family and friends when he finally did pass away.

Kailyn and I are leaving on Thursday on a road trip. We are driving to my brother's place (about 13 hours, likely more as I don't know how well Kailyn is going to travel). And then at the end of the weekend to my parents, about another 3 hours. And then a few days later to my aunt's (another 3.5 hours) for her 90th birthday. I am hoping to find the driving cathartic.

All in all, our anniversary went pretty well. I really felt Scott was with me, making sure I got through it okay. The days before and today were worse (I looked at some of Scott's clothes while packing for the trip - not a good idea, yet).

Korina

[kayc]

Mary,

Yes you make perfect sense!

Korina,

The weekend George died, he had a heart attack on Fri. that landed him in the hospital, went through extensive testing on Sat., getting the results that evening (not good), was scheduled for a 5-bypass for Mon. morning but before getting it, had a heart attack and died Sunday. I was away and didn't learn about him being in the hospital until late Fri. night, by the time I got a ride to it (several hours away), it was Sun. afternoon.

When I walked into his hospital room, I sensed something different, almost like he was pulling inward, not quite like a barrier, but something like that. We were always extremely close, could practically read each other's minds...

In looking back, I think he was preparing himself for the next world, like he knew he wasn't going to be here. I don't think your husband was afraid, I think somehow they sense what's happening and do somehow ready themselves for it. I got the distinct feeling that George knew he had to go alone and so he handled it alone...this was exceptional because we always went through everything together in life, always...but maybe he knew somehow this was the one thing he couldn't go through with me...at any rate, he had His help, His welcoming embrace as he made that transition, of that I have no doubt. For the one time in his life, he didn't need me...that's not to say he loved me any less, our love was so incredible it could never be described in a lesser term, we will meet up again, and his hug will be as wonderful to me as it always was. That is what I look forward to the very most in heaven...