It was a Monday. February 26, 2007. I don’t recall what the weather was like exactly, as the day began within the confines of the hospital walls. We arrived at our local ER shortly before 1:00 am. After being ignored all night, we finally got a room, which was followed by further hours of being ignored. Blatantly ignored. My wife’s medical condition was quite involved, and it seemed none of the staff had the time to take that into consideration when making decisions, so we sat. All night.
When the shift changed a new doctor arrived and things began to actually happen. It turns out on top of everything else, we were looking at a case of septic shock. Not the easiest thing to overcome, especially in a state of weakened health, but possible. While we were waiting for her to be transferred to a room, the unthinkable happened:
The crash cart was pushed into the room and I was pushed out.
But that was not to be the end. After about 45 agonizing minutes in a small room with flowered wallpaper, a nurse arrived to say that she was stabilized and had been moved to ICU. Not great news, but she was still here. And we’d weathered ICU once before, right after our daughter was born. Not the best of times, but she was still here then too.
The day dragged on. I drained my cell battery calling family back home with updates. Her parents arrived and sat with me in my daisy-infested prison cell. Some positive news came. She was responding to the new treatment and things were starting to look up.
Things always start to improve before a tempest strikes. Within two hours, she was gone.
It’s strange. I don’t know the actual time that it happened. I know it was somewhere close to 5:00 officially, but what constitutes that moment? Was she gone when they started trying to revive her? Was she gone when I had to make the decision to tell them to stop? When exactly did she go? There’s a number on the multiple copies of her death certificate, but what haunts me is not that split-second on the clock. It’s the calendar. It’s every month when I have to spend the day writing the 26th on documents at work. And it’s every single Monday.
Most people hate Mondays. But I have a reason to.
I remember that a doctor and a nurse stepped into the room to tell me that my wife had passed. The doctor was wearing black scrubs and I remember thinking "what an jerk"; as if he planned to look like death that day.
ReplyDeleteMy wife made lists of "Things to do today". She had tons of them laying around the house. In the aftermath of her death as I was collecting them all it seemed the majority of them were for Wednesdays...the day on which she passed of all days. There are no dates...just Wednesday. I threw them all out; all she had to do that day was live the rest didn't matter.
Your posts are helpful to read, thank you for letting us into your world some. I enjoy the music references, it gives context; its nice.
The Widower Dad- And thank you for letting us into your world as well. I am an intensely private person, which is why I don't use our names on the blog. However, I realized that reading my story might help others - if for no other reason than to know that there are others traveling a similar road. Through God's grace and the world-wide web, we will all learn to live with our grief and know that we don't have to bear it alone.
ReplyDeleteWOW, may heart is with you!!! I myself am not sure of the actual minute my wife passed, but it happen between 2:30pm and 3:00pm which is considered the "holy hour" in my catholic religion and that brings me some ease. It is VERY scary to think back too. I understand.
ReplyDeleteRick - It is always a mixed blessing to hear from someone who truly understands. I'm sorry we're both in this boat, but glad we can that if we have to be, at least we are in it together.
ReplyDeleteIt's not the "official" time of death that matters.....its when you know they where no longer connected to us, that's when we lost them. My other half was shot and was braindead for days before offically being disconnected from life support. To me, he was gone the day he was shot, that's when I lost him.....that's the day I became a widow.
ReplyDeleteI got the call from my brother-in-law at 6pm om September 6th 2009. It was supposed to be a relaxing Labor Day weekend. Heart attack at 45, she was so healthy. So many questions....
ReplyDeleteAnon 1 - I agree and I'm sorry you have to endure this as well.
ReplyDeleteAnon 2 - I don't think the questions are all ever sufficiently answered. I wish I could say they were, but it's been three years and I still have many. I wish you peace as you seek to have yours answered.
great to see men doing more than expected! single mothers arent the only ones out there plenty of dads r raising there kids all alone, i am one of them, mt daughter is 12yrs old, her mother gave her up to me when she was 3yrs old, iv'e been doing the mr mom ever since! good luck and god bless to all men doing this on there own, no matter how we all got into doing this
ReplyDeleteCar accident for my mom, almost seven years ago now (It feels like much longer). My dad said she should get a new car, she didn't want to spend money on herself. Drive safe.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to read this.... but thankful that you have posted so I can read what you are going through....
ReplyDeleteMy husband was killed in a car accident 79 days ago. He was here and then he wasn't. He had just turned 47, looked 37 and was as fit as a fiddle. The accident happened at 10:25 am - I didn't know about the accident until 4pm. ...and yet I worry what filled his last moments. Terror? Fear? Nothing?
I was just told about your blog today...and after reading this story, my heart is broken for you. I'm not in that situation, but I want to thank you for expressing your feelings on here. For people that have never gone through a loss so deep, it sort of opens our hearts and minds to others who are living the reality of loss.
ReplyDeleteI hate sunday. Today is sunday, and I searched for a blog about death. My husband shot himself on a sunday. The funny thing is, I met him on a sunday. This post resonates with me. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteWe share an anniversary. Mine is 6 years prior. On February 26, 2001, my husband took his own life. He left me, a 2 year-old son, and a 6 month old daughter behind. It's been a tough 10 years. Sometimes I really mad. Sometimes I'm great. Other days it feels like I'm living that day all over again.
ReplyDeleteI'm happy I found your blog.
My husbands time of death is officially listed on the death certificate as 1:15 am, which is clearly just a close guestimate probably marked by 911 calls. The moment of his death for me was 9:15 a.m when I returned from the post office to see who appeared to be Jehovah's Witnesses making their rounds standing in my driveway. As I got out of my car and the gentleman in the long trench coat approached me and said his name, I recognized the name from my husbands company and I immediately said, "what's wrong, is he okay, what happened?" The woman standing there said Nathaniel was in an accident this morning and he didn't make it. My mind immediately went to car accident, I later found out industrial accident, and was told in my driveway they had no details. They did, they just didn't have the courage to tell me his skull was crushed by the machinery he was trying to fix, I had to call the human resources director and that poor girl, younger than me I think had to tell me the ugly truth. It has been 7 months and 11 days and the "answers" have slowly started pouring in, taking me through days of sadness, disappointment, anger, comfort in the memories, rape of the "perfect" life I had imagined, theft of happily ever after. For a long time every Friday was a reminder as I counted the weeks, now it's 11's. Ironically September 11th was 6 months. Who knew that 10 years later I would be so familiar with the grief that so many people endured that day. I'm excited about the little you've shared about Winn-D and that your daughter has found someone to be comfortable with, I like to pretend that our loved one loss hand chose those people to step in, like they knew they could be trusted and they could handle it.
ReplyDeleteGood Luck to you I hope you're feeling healthier!
This is an old post but I figured I would post on it: I lost my wife of 28 years just couple of months ago. I am left with a 14 and a 17 years old daughters. Well behaved but I know they are going to be missing some from the mom. I just do not know how to cover for that. What is best to do? I feel like I am being pushed out of a plane without a parachutte.
ReplyDeleteSteve
My nephew died from an accidental overdose last Friday...well he was on life support until Sunday. His fiance of 8 yrs is struggling so terribly, as no one knew about his issues. We will bury him saturday. How can I help her and his parents??? The helplessness is overwhelming to me. I could use words of advice
ReplyDelete