Missing My Soulmate
by Violet Nephew
my Husband Craig resting
My name is Violet and I lost my husband of twenty-eight years this September 5, on August 10, 2014.
Craig had been in the hospital since April 23, 2014, started out after he fell at home and hurt himself. I did not find out how bad until three weeks after he had fallen, he kept it hidden from me and our son Max. On the day that he ended up in hospital he had fallen again that morning. He asked Max to go and get his nebulizer for a breathing treatment because he felt short of breath. Max went to get it running of course, and sliced his foot open. I ended up having to take Max to get stitches, so I sat Craig in a chair and told him to stay there until I returned home. When I finally returned home he said the he had to go to the bathroom. The closet thing was a bucket so I grabbed it. When he went he kept apologizing to me, when I looked into bucket it looked like rust. I told him I was calling 911,he said no!!!
Finally, I put my foot down and told him he was going in. When we got the ambulance loaded and got to emergency room, they started all the work ups they needed to do. It came back that he had a severe staph infection and they started antibiotics. Other work ups came back and he had also injured his kidneys when he fell. He was put into a room as an admit. Later that evening everything went haywire and he ended up in I.C.U.
The next few weeks he fought to recover from this. It was eleven weeks when they found his feeding tube no longer was in his stomach and had to do surgery to fix it, while in surgery he needed a blood transfusion. he did well with first one, but after that he had to have 3 more and it was found he had built up antibodies to our blood. he had to have special blood with antigens in it. The blood had to be set from Utah to help him. After all was said and done they said he would no longer be able to have anymore surgeries at all. Craig then decided at sixteen weeks to go on comfort measures. I went along with his decision, because we had discussed what we would want done, if it ever came to a point where we could not be better when we recovered.
Two weeks, I sat a constant vigil by his side, until he went in hi sleep, with me lying next to him with my head on his chest to hear his last breath.
I do so miss him, and feel that half of my life has been ripped away from me. I cry every time I walk in the house, because I expect to see him there. Lying in bed seems to be the hardest part of it all. He has been by my side for thirty-two years. I do not know if I will ever get over this!!! God, I just want him back, even if to just hold me and tell me I will be okay.