Sudden and unexpected

I heard 3 erratic snores come from Cheryl’s bedroom and I found her not breathing and called 911. The 911 operator guided me through CPR for 10 minutes until a deputy came with a defibrillator. 4 fireman with oxygen plus 4 EMTs and 2 more professionals were on scene. There was a heroic effort made to save Cheryl’s life. I made the 911 call at 8:38am and she was pronounced deceased at 9:51. I was asked if I wanted to say goodbye now or wait till everybody left? Immediately after hugging Cheryl and saying goodbye they found a heartbeat. Cheryl died 2 days later in the hospital on May 7 this year. Cheryl and I have been soulmates for the last 9 years. No prior health issues or warning signs. The cause of death was cardiac arrest do to obstructive sleep apnea. Cheryl is the most important thing in my life. We had so much in common. We couldn’t have had a computer design better companions for each other. I feel like I’ve aged 10 years in the last 5 months. Depression, short term memory loss, fatigue, and insomnia have intensified. I wonder if I can keep going some days but I still do. I knew this would hit me hard so after the memorial I began grief counseling as soon as I could get in. I started going to Grief Support meetings at the local Visiting Nurses (Peggy Murphy) center immediately. We have a great facilitator but we only meet every other week. Someone there suggested the book The Long Road Back by JJ Phillips. It prepares you for a myriad of feelings, emotions, and negative comments we hear from other people who don’t understand grief. One thing I hear at every meeting is the only way to get over grief is to walk through it. This is by far the hardest thing we will ever do. And its not a race to the finish line. And be patient and kind to yourself. I only interact with a few people in order to protect myself from those who do not understand grief so this site is perfect. I had trouble navigating it at first. My heart goes out to everyone in our group. Grief In Common gives us hope. I believe in the herd mentality there’s strength in numbers. Thanks, Gary

 

Gary,

Although words are totally inadequate, and seem so shallow at times, words are all we have. I am so very sorry for your loss. My husband, Bob, passed away in April. October 11th will be the sixth month anniversary of his death. Bob had many chronic health conditions, the first one diagnosed in 2005. By the time he died, he had a specialist for just about every body part. For the most part, the side effects from the drugs he took were manageable, and he was able to enjoy life in spite of his many health issues. In 2017, he had to go out on disability, he was too tired too work for an entire day, and needed frequent naps. However, even in the beginning of being out on disability, he was still able to lead a pretty good life. We moved in the beginning of 2018, and almost as soon as we moved, his health began spiraling downwards. I became his full time caregiver. It was the beginning of the end.

Like Cheryl, the end of Bob's life was very traumatic. Without going into much detail here, I brought him home from a rehab hospital on Friday, April 9th. Saturday night, April 10th, he fell in the guest bathroom. I had to call an ambulance. My husband was a very strong, stoic man, who never complained no matter how much pain he was in. It took a very long time for the ambulance to arrive. While we were waiting for it to get to our house, all I could do was hold him, tell him how much I loved him, I couldn't move him. He begged me to help him, he was in agony. I couldn't help him. I never felt as powerless, so out of control as I did at this moment. When the ambulance finally arrived, it took a long time for them to get him out of the guest bathroom because of how small it is. They didn't have a stretcher that they could get inside of it, so they opened my linen closet, directly across from the guest bathroom, and began pulling sheets out of it. They used sheets to drag him into the living room, finally able to get him onto a stretcher. They wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance with him. They brought him to the small community hospital closest to our house. He spent the rest of his life, that night through the early morning the next day, in a room in that ER. He died at 3:45 am on Sunday, April 11, 2021.

I lost Bob only about a month before you lost Cheryl. I've experienced everything that you've described. The total heartbreak of losing someone who you loved with all your heart, still love with all your heart, is the worst kind of pain there is. There are no words to describe what it feels like, when in an instant, your world is shattered...

I know this doesn't help, but I understand what you're going through. I'm glad you found us, but so sorry you had to. This has become a safe place for me to visit whenever I need to scream, cry, or just "listen" to others share their experiences. I've learned so much from being here, from people who have been traveling down this miserable path longer than I have. Joining this site, becoming part of this group, has been one of the best things I've done for myself since Bob died. I hope this will become a safe place for you too. I look forward to getting to "know" you better.

Sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Deb, I woke up at 6:30am this morning &
sent you a lighthearted message. Then, I
discovered the heartbreaking stories from
young RidhimaVibhor, whose fiance died
in a tragic car accident, and Gary, whose
wife, Cheryl, died suddenly, much like
Linda did, and Jonathan's wife, Joy, in The
Widower's Notebook. I'm going to answer
Gary now. After that, I'm going to need
breakfast, especially coffee, so I don't
get overwhelmed. I also want to reply to
Rick, who you comforted with your story
about Bob. I never heard the little fish
story, & how Bob flushed it down the
toilet, for "burial at sea". I smiled at that
one, bc I did the same thing with a pet
goldfish, when I was a boy. Lou

 

Thank you Deb. I’m very sorry about you losing Bob too. The sudden loss we experienced along with being powerless to help along with the intense trauma is devastating. You have endured more than I have. We will never understand the full meaning of everyone’s suffering in this life. I sat on the stairs out of the way and prayed feverishly. At first I thought God was punishing me for something but rejected that thought. I prayed for God’s will. As minutes passed I saw the rest of my life go into fast forward. Months later I believed Cheryl had to pass on exactly the way she did. For along time I was angry with myself for not saving Cheryl. Then I blamed the COVID vaccination because Cheryl had a severe reaction to the first dose. She had an EEG right after the reaction and the test was negative. The next step was Ear Nose and Throat. We never made it that far. I tested positive for sleep apnea about 6 months before and I suggested she get tested too. Since her sleep difficulties weren’t constant Cheryl dismissed the idea. There is nothing we could have done different to change the outcome. I really appreciate your kindness and have noticed how you are very helpful and encouraging to the group. The identification we share with these sufferings are what bind us together. I’m looking forward to getting to know you and Van Gogh along with everyone else soon. Hugs and positive thoughts to you too…

 

Gary, your words are eloquent and
powerful. I'm glad you're "talking" with
my close friend, Deb. I've suggested 3 thongs to her, which have helped her:
1st: Center for Loss, which sends a
different quotation about grief every
day, via email, 2nd : The Widower's
Notebook. a memoir, by Jonathan
Santlofer, and 3rd: Permission to
Mourn, by Tom Zuba. Correction: 3 things,
not "thongs"! Deb will get a laugh out of
that one. Please call me Lou. Van Gogh
was my user name. Thanks. Lou

 

Thanks Lou. It’s nice meeting you. And thanks for the tip on the 2 books. I admire you for the time you spend helping people in our group. I did join the chat room but haven’t got that far yet. I’m easing into this because I get overwhelmed pretty quickly. I’m blown away with all the grief that is expressed here and how little of grief we see in our families and friends. I had to fight back tears today in the dentist chair when I was asked about Thanksgiving. I told my dentist about losing Cheryl and she told me one of their coworkers was coming up on a one year anniversary on losing their daughter. I ended having more dental work done and the grieving person was involved. To make a long story short she was relieved to hear about Grief In Common. She took a photo of the site from my phone and was going to show her husband after work. This is such a wonderful place. I’m going to be busy for a while but I’ll catch up with you and Deb on your thread the next time. Thanks Gary

 

Gary, so happy that you told your dentist
about Grief in Common. My wife died
right before Thanksgiving, 2018. My grief
counselor had suggested this kind group
but I didn't join until this year. As for your
tears in the female dentist's chair, when
asked about Cheryl, I had 2 similar
experiences recently : 1st, after a fall, I
went to a rehab unit, where I was
greeted by a young married mother, who was my PT. Before we did the leg exercises,
I asked if we could talk privately. I ended
up crying about Linda, and thanked her
for the kleenex, and "therapy". I went to
see her again, but I kept it a lot lighter, &
we even had a few laughs, 2nd, I decided
to get a pedicure (!), bc it was difficult
to tie my sneakers or use the stairs. Linda
would have laughed, in disbelief, that I
was getting something done that I thought
only women did. It was wonderful. I put
my feet in the warm whirlpool before
the manicurist did her magic. I ended up
telling her about Linda, as I had with the
PT. She was so kind, that I teared up,
AGAIN, and she handed me kleenex. Well,
I like to be in bed at 9:30pm and wake up
around 6am every day, do I better wind
down. Have a good night. Lou

 

Gary,

I just saw this. I have trouble keeping up with all the posts or would have responded sooner.

I think you, all of us have, endured way too much!!! In the beginning, all those should haves/could haves raced through my mind. I kept thinking that if I had only been more assertive in the small local ER, that the doctor who wrote Bob off as soon as he arrived, might have listened to me when I told him how serious Bob's condition was, that he needed a higher level of care than what the local hospital could provide. I told him he could have my credit card, that I would pay for the transport to bring Bob to the hospital where all his doctors were, where there were specialists for every one of his medical conditions, and the equipment necessary to treat him. (Bob had been rushed to this small local, community hospital many times in the past. They had his medical records. Every time that he was brought by ambulance to the local hospital, I had to fight to get him out of there and into a facility that was better equipped to treat him. There was only one other time that they refused to call transport. He ended up spending a night in a room there, where I argued, begged, and pleaded with the doctor, the nurse, the social worker, to call transport. Finally, mid afternoon the next day, Bob was transported to the hospital where he needed to be. He ended up being an inpatient there for many days.)

Another should have that kept haunting me was that I thought Bob's sodium level might have been too low, his electrolytes off. When the ER doctor told me his labs looked good, I asked him if he checked Bob's sodium level. He said he hadn't, but would take another look at the labs. He never did. There is so much more to this story, but the point I want to make, is that after some time went by, I was reminded of the fact that we don't have any control over when it's our time to leave this earth. However, even knowing this, all the what ifs, should haves, kept haunting me. Even if it was Bob's time to leave this earth, it was his last wish to be taken to the hospital where he received all of his care. I wasn't able to get him there. By the time the ER doctor decided that Bob needed a much higher level of care than what this hospital could provide, it was too late.

Also, they treated him horribly. I couldn't even get them to bring him a warm blanket. He was so cold, he couldn't stop shivering. I didn't even have a jacket or sweater with me that I could wrap around him. He kept sliding off of the stretcher that wasn't long enough, and was too weak to pull himself back up. I couldn't move him. I kept having to run into the hall screaming for someone to go into his room, before he fell on the floor. He was very thirsty, they wouldn't let him have a sip of water, and he wasn't hooked up to an IV for fluids until they decided, after several hours had gone by, that they needed a urine sample. I could go on and on and on, but will stop here. I kept feeling guilty, that if I had only been more assertive, at least he could have spent his last remaining hours on earth at the hospital where all of his doctors were, where the quality of care in the ER is excellent. Where they would have treated him with the respect and dignity he deserved, making sure he was kept as comfortable as possible. Sadly, he spent that final night, through the early morning hours of the next day, in pain, suffering, with me not being able to do anything but hold him, tell him how much I loved him.

Stopping here, once I started "talking" about this, the words just kept flowing, they almost seemed to write themselves. Thank you for "listening."

Also, thank you for your kind words. I think it helps me much more than it helps others, when I respond to posts. I don't always respond to as many as I would like to because grieving is so emotionally and physically exhausting.

As always, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Oh my goodness Deb. What a horrible horrible example of poor health care. Cheryl had niece that told us about a term that I can’t remember but it was something like What is going to be the quality of the patient’s life if they recover? I don’t see how you could have possibly done anything more or better than what you did. The main thing I think is that you were there holding Bob telling him you loved him. I prayed for God‘s will when the first responders were trying to save Cheryl. I witnessed my Dad die an agonizing 75 day slow death. We had great health care the first 60 days then Dad had to go to rehab center where the health care was poor. There was a break in Dad’s Ventilator and he went without Oxygen for who knows how long. Long story short we waited till my brother could get into town and pulled the plug on Dad. Miraculously he kept breathing 10 hours and when we went home for a quick break he died while we were gone. Mom replayed the event for almost a year rehashing every decision we made. I was unemployed at the time and spent the night often. Before we would go to bed she wanted to pray that we and the doctors made good decisions and the nurses did their job and it went on and on. I finally said Mom we’re praying the wrong prayers. I said we need to pray for God‘s will for Dad. But Mom couldn’t let it go and was even criticized by relatives for pulling the plug. About two years later Mom accepted it. I’m kind of doing the same thing in regards to Cheryl’s sleep apnea. When I did the sleep study I said to Cheryl you need to do this to. When I got an oral appliance I said I think you need to get one of these too. How could it be? How could someone with no health problems and no warning signs die suddenly and unexpectedly? I’ve mulled this over with a close friend who lost his wife the same way. And he said Exactly like you said when it’s your time it’s your time. At least we’re living in the solution. Like you said helping others makes us feel better. I started volunteering at the place where I go to grief support meetings. There is a small piece of property on campus That they’re trying to restore to natural native habitat. I work about three hours before the grief meeting starts. My ultimate goal is to become a hospice visitor. I cannot do that until I have gone 12 months after losing Cheryl it’s a company policy. And how to complete a six weeks training course. And because of the Covid there are very few people allowed to be a hospice visitor. When I told the facilitator of the grief support meeting about this group she said that was very good that I may find someone who had experienced the same kind of trauma that I went through and that would be very helpful for me to talk to them and that person has been you. Like said again if you keep talking about it it loses its power over you. It’s hard to believe I can say something like this has been great but it has been. I’m getting ready to go to Michigan tomorrow. I’ve got to winterize a RV and put up a bunch of no trespassing signs then I’m coming back the Sunday. I appreciate this group. Peace and hugs to all.

 

Rick,

I'm so sorry that the rehab center where your Dad spent his remaining days on earth didn't treat him with the respect and dignity he deserved. It makes me so angry that there are health care workers who seem to have very little regard for human life. I better get off my soapbox before I even begin!!! I'm glad that your Mom was finally able to accept that when your Dad died, it was his time to go, that there was absolutely nothing anyone could have done to change this. Without acceptance, there's no moving forward in this miserable journey.

I think that even though Bob's death, like Cheryl's, was very traumatic, if Bob's death had been as sudden and unexpected as Cheryl's was, it might have taken me longer to accept that it was his time to leave me. I had a feeling in the beginning of 2021, that he wouldn't live to see 2022. I don't know how to explain this, I don't think it made it any easier for me to deal with when it actually happened, it was still a major shock to my system, but it wasn't something that I hadn't thought about many times before it actually happened. I'm not really sure if this makes any sense or not, I'm having trouble putting my thoughts into words.

I love how you're doing everything you possibly can to help yourself rebuild your life without Cheryl by your side. I'm positive she would be so proud of you!!! I love that you want to be a hospice volunteer. I wish that Bob had wanted hospice services. I think having hospice services would have made his quality of life, mine too, much better. Bob was a very proud, independent, stoic man, who was always the one everyone else went to for help and advice. He was also a workaholic who only missed one day of work prior to being diagnosed with so many chronic health conditions. (The day he missed work was the day he tried to drive himself there, but had a heart attack.) No matter how many curve balls life tossed his way, he always managed to land on his feet. Death was the only thing he couldn't beat. He wanted more than anything else to be "on the right side of the dirt," as he always said. To him, although it isn't true, I think he thought that hospice meant he was giving up on life.

Thank you for getting me to smile. You're helping me just as much as I'm helping you. As I think I might have already told you, joining this group was one of the best things I've done for myself since Bob passed away. I'm glad you feel this way about being here too.

Have a safe trip to Michigan.

Sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Gary, woke up this Sat am, & was finally
able to read your heartbreaking story of both your father, and of Cheryl's last days.
I cried through your emails with Deb over
your guilt that you didn't do enough to
"save" your spouses. I felt the same way,
& suffered from PTSD, bc I couldn't erase
those last agonizing moments of Linda's
life out of my head. It was such a constant
loop, that I had to voluntarily stay in a
psychiatric unit for 5 nights, attend
counselor led groups, take supervised
walks outside every day, try to sleep
(impossible, at first). It was the best thing
I could've done. Upon discharge, I saw a
psychiatric nurse practioner/ grief
counselor who guided me through my
horrible grief over my wife's sudden
death. I'm better now, but I will never
"get over" her death, after 25 years of
marriage, but, somehow wade through
the grief, and try to achieve some level of
happiness. I pray to God, by the ocean,
every morning, that I'm grateful to be
alive, and blessed to live in my small
town by the sea. Hope you have good luck
in your trip to Michigan. Lou

 

Deb, I finally read your horrific story of
Bob's last days, and how you tried to
"save" him, your struggle with the
medical team, and your agonizing guilt
that you didn't do enough. When you
said you ran to get help, I cried bc I had
to do that for Linda. My grief counselor
said I did the best I could. So did you &
Gary. So did my role model, Jonathan. Lou

 

Lou,

I wrote about this in much more detail in one of my first messages, I think I started the thread. I just can't write about it going into that much detail again, even though that seemingly endless roller coaster ride of emotions won't let me forget it. It still haunts me much more than I would like it too. There's something that you, me, Gary, Jonathan, and so many others share, that only those of us who have lived through this kind of trauma, watching the person who we loved, still love, with all our hearts die right in front of us, and being powerless to save them can understand.

Thank you for reminding me again, that like you and Gary, I did the best I could. I know this in my head, but have trouble making my heart believe this, even though I know we have no control over when it's our time to leave this earth.

When you told me you don't think of those last moments often now, it gives me hope that one day, although they will always be buried somewhere deep inside, I won't think about them often either. I'm sorry my message to Gary made you cry.

I almost forgot, today is Saturday. I hope you're having coffee at the Legion with N. and your friend who is in his nineties (I can't think of his name, way too many senior moments!!) and enjoying the caffeine and great conversation.

As always sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Oh, my God, Deb! I completely forgot about the Legion coffee this morning! It
must be MY widower's "brain fog" thing,
as you put it, In fairness, I forgot about it
bc N always walks over there with me,
especially now that he's a member. But,
he's in Texas this weekend, for a wedding.
He was nice enough to call me from
San Antonio, & I told him we missed him on the Neck. His only day off is Sunday,
now. Al will miss today and next Sat, bc
he will be out of town. I'm happy for him,
being a widower, that he drives ( at 82)
out of state to stay with relatives and do
activities like going to car races. fairs,
& music festivals. He even has a female
friend, but is open to having another
companion. He & N., despite their age
difference, have become friends, like I
have, with both of them. Lou

 

Lou,

I missed this one. It's way too hard keeping up with all these posts. Sorry... Guess that widow/widower's brain fog is a common occurrence!!!

I'm almost finished reading the "Widower's Notebook." Great book!!!

Stopping here, I'm exhausted.

As always, sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Deb, just replied to Rick's long sad post
about his life after Denise, and your
email about possibly visiting my area.
I very much want to hear your reaction
to my story about my long time manic
depression, before I met Linda. You also
may want to read my email to Rick about
my last days with Linda. I told him
some things you may not have known.
I also paraphrased some of Tom Zuba's
ideas, to help Rick. So glad you're almost
finished with Jonathan's book! Can't
wait to discuss it with you & George!
Pleasant dreams for both of us. Lou

 

Rise & shine, Deb! I know you're crying
more bc of tomorrow. I cried this am,
bc Linda would have turned 71, a year
younger than I am, on Wed, Oct 13. It is
so unfair. I thought we'd grow old
together, like you felt about Bob &you.
Despite your "widow brain fog", I hope
you drink a lot of coffee, & answer my
last few messages, about my manic
depression and your possible trip up
North. Lou

 

Lou,

You know me too well... I'm an absolute train wreck this morning... I went to bed crying..., woke up crying... can't stop crying... I have so much I want to "talk" about, but need to walk first, total understatement!!! We will get through tomorrow and October 13th together!!!

Just replied to some advice that Karen gave me last night about moving. I know I will visit "home," first, just not sure how long it'll take me before I'm emotionally strong enough to do it.

I think I might have missed some of your messages, but did reply to the one about you having bipolar disorder. I will try to look for it later, add a P.S. to it, so it will become a new response. Hope this makes sense!!!

Even though I need caffeine injected IV style this morning, I have to get moving!!!, find those walking shoes, and hit the pavement.

I'll be back later...

As always, sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Hope your walk clears your head, Deb.
Don't worry about replying to all my
messages. The 2 most important ones
are my manic depression story this am,
and how Linda reacted to it. and your
possible visit North. I'm about to walk,
too. I want to see if there's a music
quartet at the new Whale's Jaw Cafe.
"Catch you later.......". Lou

 

Oct 13 would've been our 33rd official wedding anniversary