There Are No Words

I know you mean well.  You know I hurt and you want to say the right thing.  You want to be kind and compassionate and caring.  You want to say something that will make me feel better.

I love you for that.  Really.  But honestly, there are no words to accomplish that goal.  So I give you a pass. You don't even have to try.  I know and you know and that is all there is too it.  There isn't much to say other than "this sucks" or "this is a shitty time" or that you are "thinking of me" or "praying for me" that's enough.  Don't hurt yourself trying to find the right thing to say.  I don't expect it from you.

On the flip side of that.  Don't be surprised if I'm honest.  Truly honest with where I am.  I am in a dark place a really bad place mentally.  Just as one can be "little bits pregnant" I am "little bit depressed".  And I'm OK with owning up to that.  So if you ask me how I am, I will tell you "not good".  If you follow up -- the answer has mostly been "It's February".

February and I are just going to have to agree to disagree.  I have not had a good month.  I have spent this time second guessing every decision I made 2 years ago something that makes me sad as well as wracked with guilt.  It isn't a good combination.

I am depressed.  But if you subscribe to the 5 Stages of Grief... it's one of them.  I don't think that depression is inherently bad.  I think you can be a functional drepressive just as one can be a functional alcoholic.  The trick is taking stock of yourself every once in a while and determining if you are, in fact, still functional.  This is where good friends and family are key.

It isn't a mystery as to where I am and why I am here.  It is both simple and extrodinarily painful.

I loved him.  And he died.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Widow

Mistakes

January 30th is a hard day for me.  It is a day that stands out in my mind because it was the date of Jeff's first seizure.  Aside from the fact that the seizure itself was frightening, there are two things that are hard to accept from this day.

One, that a healthy 42 year old man could suddenly have a seizure and two, the mistakes I made afterwards.

I don't throw around the term "healthy" lightly.  Jeff was proud of the fact that he had never had a broken bone, stitches, a visit to the ER, surgery, or a serious medical condition.  In 2008 he was diagnosed with asthma and was on medication for it.  He had one ER visit due to the asthma a year before he died when we couldn't get an asthma attack under control and he needed a nebulizer treatment.  In 2012 his asthma was so well under control that he had been able to cut his medication in half.  He was thrilled, because he didn't like being dependent on so many drugs.  While Jeff was overweight he was active and nothing held him back. 

So to say that the seizure was a shock is to put it mildly.  I have read that 1 in 26 people will have a seizure in their lifetime.  It seems that medical science doesn't quite understand all the reasons this can occur.  I have a hard time accepting that, both in 2012 and now.  I still don't understand what caused Jeff to have a seizure.  I could understand it if he'd had a head injury or a brain tumor, but for his brain to suddenly go haywire and misfire electrically I just can't wrap my brain around that.  I want there to be a reason. 

But what is the hardest is trying to live with all the mistakes.  Knowing what I know now and knowing what I could have done differently prior to February 26th haunts me and it gets worse this time of year.  

Jeff went to the ER in an ambulance that day.  They ran blood work and conducted a CAT scan.  He was discharged with comments that all was normal and to follow up with a neurologist and his primary care doctor. 

I took Jeff to both.  He also had an MRI and an EEG.  I took Jeff to his pulmonologist to make sure that his asthma medication wasn't a cause.  I asked for a sleep study and I had him scheduled to see a cardiologist.  I was looking for a cause, I was looking for a reason.  But I wasn't fast enough.

We waited 3 weeks for an appointment with Jeff's pulmonologist.  Why did I let his happen?  Where was the bitch who won't take "no" for an answer?  Why didn't I insist that they see him that week?  Why did I not insist this was an emergency and that I'd just show up in their office if I didn't get an earlier appointment?

Why when the cardiologist said 6 weeks for an appointment I didn't do the same?  I can be the pushiest broad you ever met... why wasn't I?  Why didn't I treat this with more urgency?

I won't get into the mistakes with the neurologist, but I have since learned that there are "specialty interests" for neurologists.  If I had known this, I would have found one that "specialized" in epilepsy or seizures. 

Of all the mistakes I made, I have such a hard time forgiving myself for not acting like myself.  I can be mean, I can be polite, I can be scary as hell and all because I expect to get what I want and Lord help you if you stand in my way.  This is actually normal for me... why wasn't it then?

I made a mistake when it came to Jeff's medical care: I didn't treat it with enough urgency.  I thought I had time to find answers and I was wrong, I was arrogant.

I can never fix that mistake and I just can't forgive myself either.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Widow