Mrs Jen Pearce
by Jen Pearce
(Gosnells, Western Australia)
My husband died, quite unexpectedly, 3 weeks ago. He had prostate cancer and we were naturally convinced this would be his demise (after treatment several years ago, radiation therapy, he had been in remission since, until the signs were that it had returned and was now outside the prostate and into his bones and lymph glands)we had talked about this together and more or less accepted it might be a long struggle.
Several weeks later, he complained of breathlessness and I insisted on taking him to "GP After Hours", the Dr immediately sent him to ED where they told us he had had a "significant" heart attack.
They transferred him overnight to another hospital with a Coronary Care unit.
I stayed with him the next day and in the morning he seemed fine but later kept drifting off to sleep, which I put down to not having slept much the night before.
That evening I received a call from the hospital saying he had had a severe "arrhythmic attack" and, should he have another he might not survive.
At 6.10am they rang and said if I could come it would be good, as he was very weak.
My next door neighbor(from heaven)drove me there, but after the driest summer on record, it chose to pour down with rain and instead of our trip taking 40 minutes it took over an hour and a half.
By the time we arrived, it was too late.
I felt totally numb the first day, however the next and the following day I rang everyone who needed to know and packed up all his clothes and took them to a charity shop.
This was the second time I have been widowed, and I did the same previously - NOW I am feeling bad about it, mainly because he was cremated in a shroud and not in one of the suits, shirt and tie he loved to wear.
I am not still, feeling anything. Does anyone else out there relate to this? I am nearly 72 and he was 79 - we had been married 21 years and 11 days.
Thank you, in hope, anyone?