Hello everyone.
I've been reading here a few days and finally plucked up the courage to post.
I lost my husband 11 weeks ago today, he was 45. My best friend, my soulmate. I have Crohns disease, agoaraphobia and ptsd, he had social anxiety. We were never apart, never wanted to be apart, for the last 14 years we happily spent every waking moment together.
He never had any health problems, apart from the anxiety. He came down with what we thought was a flu bug, he was sick a week then it all went so bad. He was rushed to hospital and diagnosed with pleurisy. Then they said he had pus in his plural cavity and it was too stubborn to drain, then he became septic. He was transferred to Leeds St James for surgery, where we we're told he may not survive as he was too sick, he made it through the surgery, but the next 48 were critical. The next morning we were told he might not live the day but he pulled through. He seemed to be steadily improving and they were gradually waking him up when something went wrong and his test results were worsening. They gave him extra sedation and left the breathing tube in as the surgeons were thinking about going in again, as it turns out he had a rare allergic reaction to heparin that is given to prevent blood clots, he bled into his adrenal glands. The process of waking him u as started again but just as we felt relief we got the bad news. They found cancer cells on his right lung. He had NO symptoms, until he caught this 'flu' he was healthy.
His state of consciousness varied over those 2 weeks he was in ICU, the last thing he said as he was wheeled to surgery was 'bring it on' He responded to my voice bu turning his head several times, and even at one point squeezed my hand when I asked him to. I know he knew I was there but I never got to talk to him I never got to say goodbye, he never got to tell me it would all be ok. The Saturday before he died they were going to take the tube out as he was almost to the point of being awake enough, when he took a turn for the worse. His organs were failing. Sunday morning they said he was dying and it would be that day. We were asked if we wanted to keep giving him the drugs to keep his BP up, or if we wanted to reduce them and let him go peacefully.
I still can't believe I sat and held my love and watched him die. WHY? it's not fair
We couldn't have children, we have 7 cats instead, our fur babies. I also care for my Mum who is paralysed after a stroke in 09. I had a mini breakdown over the stress that caused, and was just starting to make real improvement when this happened.
I'm alone, im terrified. I feel horrible, upset stomach, overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. It's 11 weeks, people have said Im doing great and I thought I was managing ok but the last week its all gone downhill. I ache. I can't drive but we have a car, so I have driving lessons booked. With 7 cats and a mum to shop for I NEED the car. Everything is too much. I'm so frightened of getting sick. I've had crohns since was 12 and had it real bad for years. They took my colon out in 97 and I have an ileostomy, thankfully my last flare was 2005 and ive been in remission since then. I'm really scared it will come back and if it does I just will NOT cope.
How, just how do you do this? How do I live without him? How do I face my fears alone?
