Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Three Weeks in Hell

I don't know if I'll ever get home without falling apart. I did manage to stay in control until I went to the pharmacy to pick up my refills. The pharmacy where Jerry worked for two years. When I got home I got Mike to go get us some supper. I sat down to send a note to someone and I so wanted to see him. So, I went to the memorial slide show. I don't think it is good for me to look at the memorial photos anymore. I shattered into a million pieces. All I could do was scream. If I'd been in public I'd have been so humiliated but I couldn't stop. I suppose it is good that my neighbors are so far away and I am the last house on a dead end street.

I am overwhelmed with guilt and I don't know how to stop. Every minute of that last day and the night up to the minute he died and my feeble attempts to do CPR play over and over. I see every thing, hear every word and sound. I see him shoveling the snow and smiling at me playing in it like a kid. I relive every unkind word, every hurtful thing I ever did to him, every time I yelled at him, every misunderstanding, every failure to grasp what was happening to him roars at me like a tidal wave and I am completely helpless to stop it. I hate myself. Not that's too mild a term. I despise myself. This man loved me beyond any thing I deserved and during the worst time of his life I failed him. I lost him because I didn't pay attention to the signs of heart failure. I KNOW this stuff! Do you hear me? I KNOW WHAT THOSE ARE. I SAW THEM! But I was so angry with him. He wouldn't do the things that helped him get better. He took pain killers. I now realize they were to stop the pain he didn't realize was heart pains. Why did that doctor now investigate where this pain was coming from?

My poor Mike, walked back in and found me. I think he nearly dropped our dinner. He did what he could and finally called my uncle. They want me to come there for a couple of days. So, I may drive to Atlanta tomorrow to spend the next several days with them. I have to be back to work on Tuesday. I think I'll have to take Mike with me because being alone is not good right now. I can't deal with the voices and the pictures in my mind. They're worse when I'm alone.

My sister, Phyllis, is here tonight. She is very sick, though, and I am taking her to the doctor tomorrow. She has this terrible cold but she gets bronchitis very badly every year. She has no insurance at all so it is going to cost a mint but I can't let her stay sick like this.

I need to stop now. I'm very tired. I'm sorry this is so depressing. I'll try and do better next time.




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