Another long, lonely holiday weekend
Well it's Labor Day Weekend, yet another in a series of lonely holidays stretched out before me. Since I lost Barry these holidays are like two sided swords. It's nice to be off work and away from those pressures but they are sad and lonely times. Everyone at work was buzzing about what they were going to do and I cheerfully told everyone I was going to sleep. Actually I wish I could sleep because right now that is the only time I am really happy.
Barry died in November but what would be his final illness started out innocently enough in September with that pesky angina. That started the spiral of stint placement, ruptured femoral artery, emergency surgery, MRSA and an endless string of doctors patting me on the shoulder. I now recognize that as the universal doctor's gesture of really bad news.
Somehow the words out of their mouth didn't convey this though, so I kept believing that everything was going well until I arrived on the final morning to be greeted by the ICU nurse calling our doctor informing him the Barry was "trying to die". This was the beginning of a string of medical personnel "suggesting" to me that I sign a Do Not Resuscitate order. These are the very same people who were also patting me on the shoulder and saying there was one more thing they could try. How I wish Barry could have spoken to me and lifted this burden from my shoulders.
My darling I hope I did the right thing. Dr Abraham said they'd have to keep you alive on machines and I knew you didn't want that. So next time I let you go. Oh God, I let you go. Oh God, oh God I let you go. I let my darling go. I need Barry and God to tell me I did the right thing.
I am starting 75 days of hell again, reliving those final days. I don't know if I have the strength to live this over again in memories. Why do I feel this way? Why am I not stronger?