posted 07-27-2001 08:56 PM
This is going to be something of a weird weekend. The 12 year old has
mononeucleosis and feels terrible most of the time.
We did a little apartment/house hunting today. Might try some more tomorrow
or maybe just kick back and relax.
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posted 07-27-2001 09:36 PM
It's hard to tell this story. I don't feel so numbed out anymore and I miss
Rich. I'm angry and lonely and resentful at the same time I'm thinking I'm
so glad that I had him in my life and that we had so many good times--even
in between all the financial disasters.
Rich had Marfan syndrome, diagnosed in 1987, congestive heart failure and
cardiomyopathy too. He had surgery and was in stable condition. Still, one
doctor told me one time don't have any more children with "this man" or make
any heavy duty financial commitments because he probably wouldn't be around
in 5 years. It was a great shock to me...Rich was only 27 at the time. We
had a six month old son and I was already pregnant with our second child.
Well, when the fifth year rolled around I was pregnant for the third time.
So much for listening to doctors' advice.
Rich went for regular check ups, had his blood drawn, had echos and remained
in stable condition. I guess I got complacent.
Rich passed out at work in April. He had an episode of a-fib and it didn't
go away and so he fainted. He'd had this a-fib off and on since 1987. He was
stabilized with a procedure called cardioversion--he hated it because he
woke up on the last shock. He said he couldn't describe that kind of pain.
The medication the doctors prescribed kept him in a normal sinus rhythm and
so he was discharged from the hospital May 1.
For the last couple of years, the pain in his joints (legs) has been
increasing so that it was hard to walk. We curtailed a lot of our activities
and we went out whenever he was feeling well enough. The passion between us
grew stronger if anything.
He began to feel better and so we got things to help him get around and be
comfortable...a cane, a chair, a pull-along cooler. We talked about seeing
people more often, going to church, going on picnics, visiting fun places
with the kids...Rich liked to daydream about what we'd do when we retired.
And then...on May 23, he died.
The day began normally (May 22). We chatted on the way to work and it looked
a little cloudy and stormy after work and on a whim we decided to order out
the pizza special--a pizza, ziti, a meatball hero and a dozen garlic knots,
plenty for a family of five. Only...they didn't have the knots and sent
garlic bread instead. My daughter says now that the bread was cursed, as if
this happened by magic.
Around 11 that night he said, sounding scared, "It's happening again." I
knew he meant the a-fib. I called the cardiologist. A-fib is not a lethal
irregularity. Many people have it without even knowing it. The doctor
advised Rich totake a digoxin and try to sleep. After all, Rich had just
been in for a follow-up two or three days before and was fine!
I held his hand and we talked. I remember how he took my hand and brushed
his cheek with it and kissed my fingers. He said he was sorry to keep
putting me through this. He said he was afraid to be cardioverted again. He
worried he wouldn't be able to drive anymore. I tried to reassure him. Don't
worry, I said, maybe you'll go back to a normal heartbeat if you relax. And
I told him he had nothing to apologize for, I loved him no matter what. We
tried to sleep; he couldn't. He got up at 1 and said he wanted to go
downstairs and watch TV. He'd done that many times before too and so I said,
"Want me to watch TV with you?" and he said no, he'd be fine, I should
sleep, I needed to rest. So I went back to bed. I wasn't afraid...I really
thought he'd be all right. If there is one thing I'd change it's that I
would have stayed with him...
When my son and I got up at 6 the next morning, he was gone and had been
gone for several hours. I couldn't believe it. This is not how it was
supposed to go. I kept waiting for someone to wake me up from this
nightmare.
But this nightmare is real. It's the way it is now and it hurts really bad.
**************************************
posted 07-28-2001 10:12 PM
The sig line I'm using is a favorite of Rich's:
"Ya gotta believe" by Tug McGraw, who used to manage the NY Mets baseball
team. This is an underdog team most of the time but sometimes they pull off
miracles. I believe that Rich is with me, somethings have happened to
convince me but I haven't dreamed about Rich yet. And I want to. So it's
also encouragement for me. Someday.
******************************
posted 07-28-2001 10:16 PM
I have a similar concern, too. I have a 14 year old son, a brilliant kid,
extremely bright. Rich was the one who could talk math and science to Billy
because Rich is the only one brighter My son tells me things and I have NO
idea what he's talking about. Rich used to understand but now he's gone. The
male role model...gone. Worse, Billy found his dead. So I worry about Billy
on different levels.
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posted 07-29-2001 06:34 PM
We were all watching South Park the other night and it was about how Cartman
(the bad kid) lucks out and has wonderful things happen to him while Kyle
(the good kid) always has this bad luck. So then they did the story of Job.
And my daughter said, "You know, mom, bad stuff keeps happening to us and if
I knew God was just doing this to win a bet with the Devil I would really
hate Him." It did seem pretty cruel to me.
I can get where we are not promised a pain-free life but sometimes I want to
ask: "Why? Over and over and over again? When will You stop picking on us?"
It wasn't enough that Rich had a sick heart and was in pain and then died
and I lost the love of my life. Even that is not enough. It goes on
still--the landlord and my daughter's mono and the uncertainty of whether we
can continue to live here...
Enough is too much already!
My pastor didn't like the song "From a Distance" because to him it implied
an indifferent God. Well, He seems indifferent to me.
And one person said to me, the reason we suffer so much is so that we'll
want the paradise that is heaven that much more. It took all the strength I
had not to laugh in her face. Give me a break! Please!
*******************************
posted 07-30-2001 12:04 PM
((((((((Starting Over)))))))))))
You are *not* a cold hearted person because you didn't want your husband to
suffer. I think you loved Michael very much and the decisions you made took
a lot of courage. Rich and I talked about these issues when he had heart
surgery in 1987. He said at that time he did not want to be on a respirator
and he didn't want all these things done to try and save him if there was no
quality of life. Of course, right before the surgery, he changed his mind
and said, "Tell them to do what they need to do to save me." He was willing
to try the Jaarvik heart (it was brand new then) if it came to that. Well,
luckily it didn't come to that.
The night he developed the arrythmia again he said very clearly, "I don't
want to be cardioverted again." Sometimes I think to myself that he went the
way he did in order to get away from all that and from the pain.
Families can say and do very mean things. They strike out because of the
pain that they are in. I think much later, your in-laws will realize that
you were doing the best you could for Michael and that it was for the best
this way.
If they reach out to you, accept them if you can. When time has gone by and
when you can all talk about it without so much pain, they may see where you
were coming from and that you were acting in Michael's best interest.
*******************************
posted 07-30-2001 12:09 PM
Rich and I started out as friends. We'd get together in a group at break
time at work and sit around bs'ing. I liked his sense of humor--he had a
biting wit and usually had me rolling. He was also very gentle and very
courtly. I remember he'd light my cigarettes for me (this is when we both
smoked). He didn't seem to be especially handsome, very tall, blonde hair
but very very thick glasses. After we began dating he took his glasses off
and it was then I could see how beautiful his eyes were, a lovely shade of
blue, very expressive, very loving.