Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.
I don't intend to ramble, but I'm not sure what it is I am about to write.
Six weeks ago tonight, I lost my wife of 27 years to complications following scoliosis surgery. It was a rollercoaster that started back in March. The surgery was long, but successful. We had planned on having this surgery for over a year, and I was so relieved when I got to see her in ICU after 9-1/2 hours in the O.R. The risky part was over.
After about a week, she was admitted to the rehab hospital to begin P.T. She wasn't progressing as fast as expected, but eventually she was discharged. But something wasn't right. On Easter Sunday, I took her to the E.R., and she was diagnosed with kidney and liver failure. After another week in ICU, the doctors discharged her and we were back on our way home. Dehydration and too much acetaminophen, I was told.
Next came our follow-up appointment with the orthopedist. "We have a problem," he calmly said. Some of the pedicle posts near her neck had pulled out, and she now had a compression fracture in C4. Back to surgery. It was successful, and we're finally on the road to recovery.
Then another setback. While on the ortho floor, her heart started racing and they called a code. Blood pressure plummeted, and then spiked up. She had a dozen IV bags hooked up to her and the doctors and nurses worked all night to stabilize her blood pressure. "We think she has a pulmonary embolism," I'm told. Another CT scan. No embolism, the doctor says she may have had an aortic dissection.
Things worsen, we life-flight to a heart hospital that perhaps can perform a tricky operation to repair the dissection. But after we arrived, the doctor examined her and says her liver and intestines had their blood flow stopped for too long, and the organs have died. There is nothing to do but stop the medicines and let nature take its course. This takes about two hours.
The first couple of weeks, I was so numb I'm not sure how I arranged a funeral, greeted friends and family, and took care of the "business" part of dying. The phone was ringing off the hook, and food, cards and flowers poured in. To make matters worse, the day of the funeral, our (her) little dog died suddenly. I'm not sure how she knew, but I think she died of a broken heart.
After a few more weeks, the phone stopped ringing, and the flow of cards slowly dried up and stopped. An endless stream of medical bills now takes the place of sympathy cards. Everyone has pretty much returned to their normal routines. Except me. I am officially alone.
Six weeks ago tonight, I lost my wife of 27 years to complications following scoliosis surgery. It was a rollercoaster that started back in March. The surgery was long, but successful. We had planned on having this surgery for over a year, and I was so relieved when I got to see her in ICU after 9-1/2 hours in the O.R. The risky part was over.
After about a week, she was admitted to the rehab hospital to begin P.T. She wasn't progressing as fast as expected, but eventually she was discharged. But something wasn't right. On Easter Sunday, I took her to the E.R., and she was diagnosed with kidney and liver failure. After another week in ICU, the doctors discharged her and we were back on our way home. Dehydration and too much acetaminophen, I was told.
Next came our follow-up appointment with the orthopedist. "We have a problem," he calmly said. Some of the pedicle posts near her neck had pulled out, and she now had a compression fracture in C4. Back to surgery. It was successful, and we're finally on the road to recovery.
Then another setback. While on the ortho floor, her heart started racing and they called a code. Blood pressure plummeted, and then spiked up. She had a dozen IV bags hooked up to her and the doctors and nurses worked all night to stabilize her blood pressure. "We think she has a pulmonary embolism," I'm told. Another CT scan. No embolism, the doctor says she may have had an aortic dissection.
Things worsen, we life-flight to a heart hospital that perhaps can perform a tricky operation to repair the dissection. But after we arrived, the doctor examined her and says her liver and intestines had their blood flow stopped for too long, and the organs have died. There is nothing to do but stop the medicines and let nature take its course. This takes about two hours.
The first couple of weeks, I was so numb I'm not sure how I arranged a funeral, greeted friends and family, and took care of the "business" part of dying. The phone was ringing off the hook, and food, cards and flowers poured in. To make matters worse, the day of the funeral, our (her) little dog died suddenly. I'm not sure how she knew, but I think she died of a broken heart.
After a few more weeks, the phone stopped ringing, and the flow of cards slowly dried up and stopped. An endless stream of medical bills now takes the place of sympathy cards. Everyone has pretty much returned to their normal routines. Except me. I am officially alone.
Please accept my sincerest sympathy at the passing of your wife. You have come to a good place. Please continue to come to DS, whether to post what you're going through, to ask questions, or to read what others are experiencing. What I have found here is honesty, understanding, and compassion. I hope you will find the same.
Wishing you peace . . .
What a huge emotional journey you have been on. I know we all have been on one with this particular group. Attempting to stay positive and having the hope and relief that things are going well, only to be brought back down so many times is exhausting.
I am so sorry for your loss and hope you are able to find friends and comfort here on this site. I always say it is very therapeutic to let it all out. Write a journal, talk to someone on this site who you feel comfortable with, or a close friend who knows your story but will let you purge your feelings. The more you feel you haven't been able to tell, the harder it is to get through.
I could never tell anyone it is ever easy, even as the years pass. I am approaching 10 years since losing my husband at the age of 34 to cancer. I will always miss him.
I think one of the harder things to deal with is the emptiness. What we go through when we lose someone is tough enough. Our friends seem to be there when the pain is the newest and always tend to say I am here if you need me, but we feel like we are a burden to them if we need their time and they have their own lives going on. Work and families take up much time and we know how precious it is to lose that time with our loved ones. Don't have that guilt on top of the grief. Make sure you have someone you can talk to and spend time with, just to be there.
Best of luck to you. Please feel free to message me if you need to chat or just continue to let your story out with someone who won't judge.
Sue
((())) Sue