I Lost My First Love and My Soulmate

by Robin
(Frederick, MD)

February 22, 2010 I lost my soul mate. We had been married for 26 years and divorced the last 6 years. He had liver disease for 12 years and I never thought that he would die at 53.

He got sick in January the week of our son’s wedding and the first day in the hospital, he didn’t treat me too good. I stayed away until he called me on that Friday. He had just got the news that he needed a liver transplant and he was being moved to another hospital. He called me crying and I immediately went to the hospital. Our children and their friends were there. Everyone left and he started to cry about God punishing him and where would he be buried and how sorry he was about our marriage. I told him not to worry about that because God isn’t a punishing God and that he would be alright.

He was able to leave the hospital and attend the wedding (he was very weak); it was our only son and he really wanted to be there. The doctor said it was ok because they have seen his symptoms before and it would be ok. That night he didn’t have any heat in his house and it was very cold. I went and got him and he stayed at my house for the first time in 7 years. That morning I took him home and he told me how much that meant to him and how he thought I was a good woman and he was sorry for everything that went wrong with us. He said that if things were different he would do the same for me.

That following Monday the news wasn’t good and he had to go back to the hospital because he would need a liver. That was a very bad day. Over the course of a couple of weeks his condition slowly changed. He got on the liver transplant list and he was able to leave the ICU section and go to a step down floor waiting for his transplant. But now his kidneys were failing and he needed dialysis.

We did get one call that he might get his liver on a snowy Sunday and we couldn’t get down to see him. That didn’t happen because someone was sicker than him. I couldn’t believe that someone was sicker when he was very sick himself. I think that’s when he realized that if he didn’t get that liver he probably wouldn’t get one, because his body was getting weaker.

He wanted to have some juice and he wasn’t being himself so we went down to the hospital to help calm him down. The last thing he said to me was that my kiss on his forehead was better than orange juice and he wanted to kiss me on the cheek, he stated that he didn’t need the orange juice now he had all that he needed. That was our last conversation.

That Tuesday he started to bleed and they had to put him on a ventilator and they wanted us to come to the hospital. We lived an hour away and the snow made the streets bad. When we got there they had already put him on the ventilator and we didn’t get to talk to him.

He got an infection and we went back to the hospital on that Saturday and he was very sick at that point. His friends and my mother and sister and his cousins all came to the hospital. It didn’t look good. They were giving him all the antibodies they could to get this infection out of his body. On Sunday my son called the hospital and they said that nothing had changed and it didn’t look good. Mind you he was on the transplant list on Thursday. That night they were only giving him a couple of hours to live and I didn’t want him to die alone.

My girlfriend and I (she had just got back into town from traveling for her job) took me down to the hospital and later my son and his wife joined us. We talked to the doctor and asked him what he would do if it was his family member and he told us that this isn’t life and the machines were doing all the work. So my son asked about any pain and the doctor told us that he would make him as comfortable as possible. We decided to let him go home to be with the Lord. My son left because he didn’t want to be there. My girlfriend and the chaplain helped me to say good bye – It didn’t take long. I cried and prayed and prayed and cried. I told him to go on and fly and we would be ok. That I loved him and I would miss him. I didn’t want him to go but I didn’t want him to live like this either. He took 2 short breaths and he was gone. The nurse confirmed that he had passed and then he took one more breath. Just like him.

His eyes where closed doing the first half of our visit, but when they took him off the ventilator he opened his eyes and was looking right at me. At first it bothered me, but now I think he wanted me to know that he knew I was with him to the end.

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