Still November. Still supposed to be thankful. Still hard. But I’m glad I have my support groups on FB. I read another post the other day. It was actually a post of another post. Here’s what it said…”This will be a loss like no other, a grief all it’s own. Do not expect others to understand, even your husband. This child was a physical part of your very self. It was attached to you and only you. You will never feel completely whole again. Something will always be missing, just as I cut off your arm or leg, you will miss it forever. This is a mother’s pain and only a mother who has experienced it will know and share your pain.” This was told to a grieving mom by her Dr. He understood. He felt it. He knew. This wasn’t even a therapist, it was her family doctor.
Believe it or not I’m thamkfth for more than you know .
Yesterday I was writing this blog while looking at my husband in a hospital bed. Three days ago he had major surgery to remove cancer. Cancer. At the age of 41. Dr. Haggard came in and told us he believes from the pathology report that he was able to remove all of it with the 10 inches of colon he took out. Now to recover from a painful surgery and that awful word….cancer. Never did I imagine. But never did I imagine the awful word suicide. Cancer AND suicide in exactly 16 months. 488 days apart. July 26th to November 26th. Joe didn’t deserve this. Daniel didn’t deserve to see his dad in a hospital bed, worried. Daniel had a hard time with his dad’s diagnosis. He was scared but wouldn’t admit it.
February of 2017 for 40 days we sat day in and day out with my mother-in-law, Carmen, in the ICU with double pneumonia. But I never stayed the night because I had Zane and Zeagan at home. There was always another family member to stay but I was there every day, either in the morning or afternoon to bring breakfast or dinner. The last time I stayed in the hospital and stared at a bed from the couch laying down was in 2016. Zane’s brain surgery. I watched my baby boy have major surgery to hopefully help him change his life and make him hurt less. I watched him sleep. I watched him hurt from recovery. I watched him smile from feeling better every hour. I watched him being moved from ICU to a regular room. I watched him get released from the hospital to be able to recover at home. Chiari Malformation. You are the devil. You have caused both of children to hurt. You have contributed to taking the life of my baby.
Watching Joe suffering from the pain of surgery brought back so many memories. Flashbacks of seeing Zane in the hospital bed. Flashbacks of seeing Daniel in the hospital bed. It’s hard to see your husband and children like that.
I picked up Adrianna and Zeagan and dropped her off at work. As I turned down our street Zeagan declared “Zane Zane. He’s my best friend.”. Out of nowhere. Remember, Zeagan was only 1 and a half when Zane left us.