Random Grief Storms

This one wasn’t so much of a storm as it was a bit of a shower.

In the middle of class, talking about the family of patients, and a classmate talks about her experiences as the daughter being there for the mom in an actual setting.

I know her mom died.

I don’t know why… but flashbacks.  Random memories. How the amazing nurses treated me vs how the competent nurses treated me vs how the ok nurses treated me vs how the awful nurses treated me.

And tears.  In the middle of class.  Nowhere to hide.

But I managed to get them under control, because do I really want to explain to everyone how devastating it was and how amazing it was to be in that position?

Nope.  Not today. But the grief storm hit anyhow.  And I dealt with it.

It’s nice? to know that the randomness will still hit me. Without warning.

YAY! for random grief storms. *sigh*

Really okStages-of-Grief

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I Miss You

It has been 4 years since you took your last breath.

It has been 4 years since we gathered around you, held your hand, and allowed you to move on to another place with love and laughter surrounding you.

It has been 4 years since the grey Vancouver sky opened up for one moment, and sunlight streamed in your window as you left us.

It has been 4 years since I crawled up on you to snuggle you one more time, because I knew it wouldn’t hurt you and I hadn’t been able to do that in 6 months.

It has been 4 years since I broke down on you, and finally realized… it wasn’t you anymore.

It has been 4 years since I kissed your cold forehead one last time and walked away from the hospital one last time.

It has been 4 years since our lives changed.

It has been 4 years.

And I love you as much today as I did that day.

I miss you.  Your children miss you. Our lives are not the same without you.

4 years.  4 fucking years without you and I want to reach out and touch you and talk to you and hold you again.

This song.  Every. Fucking. Time. 

Hospice Training

If you’re new-ish to my blog, or haven’t read that far back, I’m in school to become a Practical Nurse.

This involves working with people who might die.   Just in case you didn’t know.

As an LPN the primary areas we work in are Long Term Care, Palliative Care, Post-Natal Maternity and Med-Surge.

2 of those 3 involve the likelyhood that someone will die.

So we need to know how to handle that, how to manage that, how to be a part of that.

Enter Hospice Training.

It started at 9am.  Tears started about the same time.  I brought Bailey’s for my coffee.  Drank it all.  Cried for 3 freaking hours.  Still teary.

But yeah.  Lets talk about death. Dying.  The dying bill of rights.  Grief.  Mourning.  Bereavement.

Lets do this all in a class.

And lets watch Jane fucking break down over and over and over and over.

Other people cried.  In parts.

I cried the whole time.  And after.  And honestly if someone were to look at me sideways I’d probably start crying again.

But yeah.  It was like having a wound…and someone sticking their finger in it and twisting it around so that they could say “HEY! This is how it HURTS.  Now you KNOW how it feels!!”

Fuck you.

And fuck you again.

But I will have a bit of a better idea how to help people through the process when it’s time. And hopefully, I will be able to bring an empathy to the dance floor that another wouldn’t have had.

But fuck me.  I haven’t cried that much for a very long time.

After class?   I went and drank.  Had some serious laughs. Had a good time.

But I still want to cry.  A lot.  Because that class brought up SO much emotion.

Fuck I miss him.

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Grey’s Anatomy

I have been watching this show since inception.

After my husband had his heart attacks, he couldn’t watch it anymore… too much close to home.

After my husband got sick, I kept watching it.

And then my husband died.

And then they killed off Mark Sloan – an entire episode of watching a major character die.  And then another episode of the lead up to it.  And they turned off the machines, withdrew life support and watched him die… exactly the way my husband died.

And I kept watching.  Because they wouldn’t do that again, would they?

And then Derek died.  Meredith had to decide to turn off the machines.

Fuck, again?  Another major character.  Dead.  The same way my husband died.  Hooked up to life support, care withdrawn.

So for the last 3 or 4 weeks, I’ve been watching the ENTIRE series.  All of it.  Including Mark Sloans death.  And Derek’s death.

You have to ask.. why watch a show that brings up so much pain? Why watch something that causes me to relive those moments?

Why hurt myself that much?

Because I need to feel.

Because every time I watch a character I love die…. I’m reminded that it’s ok to feel.

It’s a form of therapy.

I’ve had one other revalation lately.

I want a Derek. *jump to 1:39 for the part of the scene that I’m talking about*

I want to be loved enough (again) that being together – finding a way to be together despite differences and arguments and stresses – being willing to WORK on those things because the love is more important than holding onto a grudge or a hurt or a mistake or 10.

And I keep watching Grey’s Anatomy, because despite the fact that it is a fictional show with fictional characters, that kind of love exists.  I lived with it for 14 years.  And I know I can have it again.

And I still torture myself by watching Grey’s Anatomy.   Because watching Grey’s means that I can’t hide from the grief.  I can’t pretend it doesn’t still exist.  I can’t ignore that a part of me is still missing, will forever be missing even when I find my Derek again.

It’s not About “Thinking Positively”

Someone asked me how I was doing today.

I told him how my week was going.

He said… well… just “think positively”

It’s not about thinking positively.

How can I positively reframe my husband’s death?  How can I think “positively” about an event that altered my life irrevokably?

It’s not about thinking positively – it’s about accepting the feelings, feeling the feelings and moving through the feelings.

I’m positive I won’t die because of this.

I’m positive I’ll get through this.

I’m positive the rest of the world will go on.

But I miss him like crazy and no amount of “thinking positively” is going to change how much it hurts that he’s NOT HERE.

So… the positive in today?

I didn’t throat punch a guy who lives with his parents, probably hasn’t had a real relationship… ever, and has NO CLUE what it’s like to have your life, your identity, your everything stripped from you in one last breath.

So that’s positive.  I didn’t even rip him a new one.  Or cry.

I managed to keep a smile on my face while I finished out the last 20 mins of my day.

That’s thinking positively, right?

Grey's Anatomy

They Did It Again…

****GREY’S ANATOMY SPOILERS CONTAINED BELOW****

I am a huge fan of Grey’s Anatomy.  It’s the only show I have watched since day one.   The show has never been formulaic, never been repetitive in how the plots are carried out, it has been fairly realistic and at the same time enough fantasy to keep things interesting (because lets face it, sometimes real is boring)

In September of 2012 – they killed off Mark Sloan.   He was in a plane crash, had some undiagnosed internal bleeding, and ended up on life support.   The entire season opener was watching him while it crept to the time where the machines were going to be shut off.   And then they shut them off.  And I fucking BAWLED because it was so close to home….  we turned off life support for my Mark only 3 months prior.

I figured I was in the clear.  They wouldn’t kill off another major character like that.   Then the next week, the episode was all about the month leading up to him being in the coma.   And the turning off of the machines.

Ok.  Done.  Again.  Can we get back to the story line please?

Seattle Grace Hospital recovered.  The people recovered.  The storyline became less dramatic.    I enjoyed the show again.

And then… last night…. OMG last night.  They fucking did it AGAIN!!!  Derek was in a car accident.   The doctors at the hospital screwed up, and he was on life support.   And Merideth had to turn off the machines.   And… almost 3 years later… I’m pretty sure this is just about fucking killing me.

How do you explain to someone who’s not a widow, who didn’t have to watch their spouse die how a TV show can rip you apart?  How it can take you right back to that moment when the doctors are telling you there’s NOTHING MORE THAT THEY CAN DO??

The show managed to emotionally devastate me.    All I wanted was to curl up in someone’s arms and bawl.  That’s still all I want to do.   But I get to carry on… because I am the parent for my boys, I am strong, I survived this once and I will survive it again.

Tears are healing.  I knew that when I started watching Grey’s Anatomy a couple weeks ago.  And I’ve healed a lot of the pain from my ex.   I just wasn’t expecting this… dammit.

Heartbeat Grey's Anatomy

There’s Something About Loss

There’s something about loss after you’ve lost a spouse.

Every small loss becomes a painful big loss.

And the big losses?  The “end of relationship” losses?  Those ones are devastating.  I don’t know how to deal with those.

I know he reads these…and I’ve tried to keep it out of my blog because they get thrown back in my face later.

The fact that I mention this on my blog will probably get thrown back in my face later.

But in the end… I’m sitting here, bawling, because I LOVE someone.  And that someone has broken my heart.  But blames me.  And I have taken my share of the fault.  I own my mistakes and my douchebaggery.  I own those.  I screw up.  I’m human.  I am not perfect.

And I love him.  But my heart keeps getting ripped in pieces.

And still I love him.

I have moments of listing all the things that I don’t want, all the reasons why it will never work and as soon as I see him, as soon as I am in the same room as him, sometimes even when I’m just thinking about him… the list just gets lost in the clutter of my mind and the only thing I can think of is “IlovehimIwanthimIneedhimImisshimIovehim” and that runs through my mind over and over and over and over and I can’t shut that up.

No matter how much I want to.

I want him.  I love him. I miss him.

We hurt each other.  We misunderstand each other.  We take each other wrongly.  We assume the worst of each other.

I want him. I love him. I miss him.

The loss… the ending.. the pain… its overwhelming because I *do* love him.  Enormously.

I can’t put him in a tiny little box in my heart.  It keeps fucking breaking open.

I put my dead husband in a box.  He stays there, mostly.   But right now… I am overwhelmed with pain and sadness and tears.

Because somehow… the loss of one… rips apart the boxes of both.  The hurt of losing one… destroys my defenses against both.

I’m in love with a dead guy.

I’m in love with a live guy.

And I’m alone and crying.

overfilled suitcase