Turns out I'm still alive
Until...
That high school sweetheart, the one I was still madly in love with after 15 years of marriage, the one who would hold my hand and swing it back and forth and say "I can't wait to be old with you and we can sit on our porch and watch our grandchildren play and I will still be holding your hand" The one who I am confident loved me with every single cell in his body. That one, THE ONE. He died, just died, out of nowhere. I was there.
That caused some serious trauma. I know what your thinking, "well of course, how could it not, poor thing" or something to that effect. You are absolutely right, how could it not? Trauma is a very interesting thing, it causes all these really weird side effects. Never having anything traumatic to me happen before I didn't really understand it. People would tell me about their trauma and I would think "well of course, how could it not poor thing" but I didn't understand, not really. People would tell me about their funny little quirks, how they don't go to this resturant or won't watch that movie. I thought it odd, but I do it now, there is a whole giant list of things like that I avoid now because it brings me back to the trauma of Dan dying.
I went to the Dr a couple months ago. I have this thing in my throat that has kinda nagged me my whole life and it was time to get it looked at. She sent me to a specialist. Specialists take months to get into, but I eventually did. I checked in at the receptionist and she said to me "Do you have an advance directive" uhhhhhh wait a minute I'm just here for an appointment, why do I need that, maybe I didn't here her right "a what?" I ask "An advance directive, we ask all our patients, an advance directive is..." "I know what it is" I probably said louder then necessary "and no I don't have one" It;s just a Dr appointment. So I saw the Dr and she said very no big dealy "so we are going to set up an appointment to put you under and put a scope down your throat and find out whats going on. You've been under anesthesia before I'm sure." Uh no, did I mention my extremely normal life. Before this whole dead husband thing my biggest trauma was giving birth. No I've never been put under before. I really wish Dan were here. We set up an appointment. It's another month away. Yay a whole month to worry about it.
I went to Therapy the week before. "hey you know that whole putting me under with the scope thing, thats happening next week" My therapist looked me in the eye "your really worried about this aren't you?" Uh duh, of course why wouldn't I be worried, just because it's a perfectly normal procedure they probably do 50 times everyday, because it's so common I don't even go into the hospital for it they do it at the office. This, this is where all that Trauma comes in. This is where the crazy widow brain hits the fan. My therapist asks "Whats the worst thing that could happen?" "My sister will have to tell Baby Girl that now mommy has died too" it's a very therapisty thing to rephrase statements, Dan used to do it all the time "You think you could die?" WELL YES. Crazy widow brain does at least. Logical brain knows I won't, logical brain knows I have better chances of being struck by lightning or winning the lottery. Logical brain know that the chances of something going wrong are slim to none. Logical brain knows that you don't die of seizures. Crazy widow brain knows, for a fact, that logical brain is wrong on that one. You can in fact die of a siezure, the chances are better of you getting struck my lightning or winning the lottery. The chances of dying from a siezure are slim to none. But looked what happened, we were that less then 1%. If Dan can die of a siezure I can die under anesthesia.
I know it's crazy, I know crazy widow brain has taken this worry and flown with it. But thats how I feel. So my therapist says "what can we do to better prepare you for this?" uh hell if I know, I was kinda going with just hoping I don't die. Heres what I did. I never got around to making a will so I wrote a "just in case" letter and put it in an envelope on my fridge. It had things in it like how to access my bank account. Who I want to take care of Baby Girl. My therapists number so they can call her and tell her I was going to miss my next appointment (and oh BTW I was right). You know important stuff. I did not tell Baby Girl, that would have been a whole mess of anxiety, instead I just sent her to school like any normal day. I did not tell my mother in law, just incase she had the same crazy fear I did, cause she knows about that less then 1% too. The night before I got on my grief groups and told them what was happening. If anyone was going to understand it's them. You know what I got? Comment after comment on how they have had similar experiences, how any small procedure brings them back to death, how they too know it's irrational but are terrified anyway. How they are there, how they know what it's like. That actually did make me feel quite a lot better. I was not alone, that trauma stuff messes up everybody's logic.
I checked in for my appointment, the receptionist looked at the old man that accompanied me and said "and who is your driver?" "my dad" She looked like she was wondering why my husband hadn't come with me. They didn't have a widow box to check. I left my dad in the lobby and went into the back, I was clutching this small little piece of cloth Dan had made me in college, He called it a squish and it was for times when I was nervous and he couldn't be with me, you know like when I had a big test. I don't think he was imagining me using it for this, or at his funeral, but he wasn't here so I had to. Man I wish he where here. I wish he were here, I want Dan, I wish he where here. I started to cry as I laid in a gown on a bed waiting for my turn. I don't want to do this alone. The nurse asked me if I had ever had an IV before. Just once, I told her about that time I went into pre-term labor and was in the hospital for weeks and they had to move my IV so many times they ran out of places to stick me. see you get nervous people where they're scared and unguarded and stuff just shoots out of their mouth "That's why we only have the one kid, we were going to adopt the rest but then he died instead" I said tears streaming down my eyes. Remarkably it's not the first time I have said that sentence. ya we were going to have more kids but my husband died instead. It usually makes people feel awkward. Instead my nurse said "me too. my husband died when our son was seven" seven thats how old Baby Girl was. Her son is all grown up now but we talked for a long time about how hard life is without our loves. Who knew talking about death could be such a great distraction from worrying about death.
By the time they wheeled me in for anesthesia I was feeling much more confident about not dying today. And hey, turns out I didn't. Turns out today I wasn't the less then 1%. Yay me. I magically fell asleep and when I woke up my dad was sitting beside me. I love my dad, like a lot, and he's great for things like this, he even bought me a milkshake. No offense dad but I still would have preferred Dan were there.
I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle
Comments
Post a Comment