TRIGGERS

I have not experienced grief in a go to bed for days, weepy, can't cope way.  I moved into the what needs to be done zone and stayed there for weeks - to the point that I wondered what was wrong with me.  Am I normal?  I loved my husband, he died.  Shouldn't I fall apart at least a little bit? 

Then a cascade of problems started to set in - and I found I was fine putting out fires but unable to cope with simple things.  A notice from the bank that required me to change my log-in just threw me - I couldn't think of something new.  The woman on the phone nicely came up with something until I could think straight. A CPA I called for advice told me what killed him probably was the financial stress he was under and I hung up on her but was so shaken up I didn't make phone calls for days.  Paperwork for the new bank account I opened had to be corrected because I put in that I was married.

Driving through the city where we used to live brought on tears.  Seeing people out on their bikes brought waves of memories. Passing by things I used to buy for him at the store made me sadder than planning meals for one.

After moving to a new state, I have not had many of those moments, until today.  I went to donate

blood - which is the thing I told people to do when they asked how they could help following his diagnosis and death.  I  didn't really give it much thought until I saw all the people there doing this generous life giving thing.  I had gone prompted by the Covid crisis, but realized once there that the hospitals are still full of leukemia patients in need of this precious resource only we can provide.

I had strong mixed emotions all day.  The loss. The life sustaining gift we can  give. 

THE REVEAL

Tom and I had certainly not foreseen that this would happen so soon in our lives - we expected a good 10 years before major health issues might occur.  We lived a healthy lifestyle and had no medical issues.  We had, however, spent time discussing things like quality of life and how far we would or would not allow medical intervention for each other.

I served as his advocate and was respected by the medical staff in that role.  His mental capacity was compromised and he had trouble speaking on and off during his hospitalization.  When he was lucid and could communicate well, he had many things he felt strongly about telling me.  He was extremely focused on his work, he made sure his clients had been taken care of.  He repeatedly told me about financial stuff like passwords and when bills were due that he handled. Even when he was delirious or sleepy, he insisted on holding his phone and having his blue tooth in his ear - during the nights I would wake up to him talking away as if he was conducting business.

It was clear to the family that in the last days he was asking for our help, asking to be let go. Things had deteriorated so significantly that much of his day was spent undergoing care that was painful and intrusive and not creating any gains.  We were all in agreement about stopping treatment and the staff handled the end very well with great respect and consideration.  He knew we were all there and the last word he said was "love".

The entire family retreated to our house to sleep.  In the morning we started making lists of things that needed to be done - divided it up and got to work.  We are a family of "doers".  Each of us in our own state of shock/grief/bewilderment we set about our tasks.  As the day went on, it became clear that there was a big problem.  I knew that I would not be able to afford the big house we had just rented, but the financial situation was significantly more dire than I had ever imagined. 

He would be very angry that I am even revealing this to others, but I think it is very important not to gloss over things - not just because this is the grim reality of my life now, but because it should serve as a warning.  I am not one of those old fashioned women who left everything up to my spouse.  I knew we had tax debt because I signed the taxes and payment plans every year.  I argued with him about his refusal to pay his quarterly estimated taxes as a self employed person.  He always argued back that if he had bad months back to back he might not be able to pay the rent or his bills to keep his practice going.  I know he lived in constant stress about his business month to month. 

Going through the finances, notifying creditors of his death, determining what accounts had to be paid or closed was significantly aided by the fact that he had created a comprehensive list with all his accounts and passwords.  What going through that revealed was gut wrenching.  Long story short (sorry, I guess this is not so short) he had massive consumer debt in his name that I did not know about and he had gotten behind on the tax payment plans and the IRS was after us. Big time.

Not only is finding I would have to deal with all this another kick in the gut, the kids were all exposed to this information and, quite frankly, we are all really pissed off about it.  Yes, he had no idea he was going to get sick and die.  Yes, he clearly was upset and obsessed with this throughout his illness and confinement in the hospital. Yes, he was trying to shield me with the belief he was somehow going to get it taken care of over time - but he didn't end up with time. 

I feel such pain knowing how worried he was all during his illness, he knew this hammer was out there and if he didn't survive it was going to come down on me. 

On the other hand - REALLY?  Keeping all this from me for years? Not being honest?  Pretending like we could actually purchase a house again?  Agreeing I could retire?

This reveal was only the beginning - much more to follow.

I'M STILL MRS. BRIGHTSIDE

The last time I posted I was getting back into the swing of things after getting 2 new knees.  For the record, that has continued to be a great improvement in my life.  My husband Tom and I increased our mileage on our bikes and though I never managed to become a great hill climber - with the addition of an electric wheel on one of my bikes, we joined a biking group and took many wonderful rides.

So what brings me back to writing here? I always thought I'd get back to writing when I  stopped working full time - but my life has taken a wholly unexpected turn. I was trying to figure out how to update my profile with my new information. (Still can't figure out how.)  I considered starting a whole new blog.  Anyway...

We had just moved into a different house, both of us were exhausted from the effort. That Tom was tired and sore was a surprise because he's in such great shape, but not too worrisome - after all we are in our mid-sixties.

A couple of weeks later, on the last day of my job, my husband called an ambulance and got himself to the ER.  I left my retirement party and by the time I got to the hospital, the blood draw they had done was already conclusive that he had leukemia - so acute that they were pretty stunned he'd been upright for the past few days.

 Long story short - he was transferred to a hospital in Oakland where they specialized in treating AML. He started chemo a couple of days later.   It was 22 days from the diagnosis to the day we let him go due to multiple organ failure.  The chemo had worked, but his body was not up to the side effects.

I will save many of the stories and information I learned for future posts. Pretty much living in the hospital for 3 weeks, gathering, dispersing and then gathering the family again,  working with the doctors, nurses and Palliative Care team was all consuming in addition to his needs and demands and frustrations.  In many ways I shut down my emotions and here I am three months later and only now just starting to get my feelings back.  And I will tell you - they are a real mixed bag.

I will be writing with some frequency to express my feelings, thoughts and experience on this most unexpected turn in my life.