Under an old name as very identifiable. Also very long, but I need to get it out. I really need to get it out.
Mum died 16 months ago, extremely suddenly and unexpectedly, of PVL-pneumonia. All week she had had a very nasty cold, as did we all. The Thursday and Friday she had gastro enteritis, and on the Saturday my DB rushed her into the local A&E where she had 1 litre of fluid infused as she was so dehydrated. They sent her home that night, and according to dad she had periods of struggling to breathe, but she hates hospitals and as they had been sent home, he didnt take her back (which he has beaten himself up about ever since). Sunday he did take her back up, she was admitted into A&E, they were in the process of sedating and intubating her for admission into ITU when she passed away on the table in resus. They fought for 20 minutes and managed to bring her back, but tbh the only thing keeping her alive were machines. We all (bar my ds (10) and niece (3)) were able to get there to say goodbye, though I refused to be in the room when they turned the machines off. I couldn't do it. I heard my sister howling as the machines were obviously turned off, knew when it happened, just couldnt cope with that emotional outburst on top of my own. I escaped with my dp to the hospital chapel, and went home after my own turn through a&e and xray (I sprained my ankle extremely badly on my way in to say goodbye to mum).
The next morning, I had to tell my ds - he had been at my aunties, my mum's sister, that night as I knew mum was seriously ill and needed to be sure ds was looked after. I had pre-prepared him (he has AS) explaining that mum was ill and that the doctors were doing xyz to hep save her energy so she could use her energy to get well, so I was able to explain that she just didnt have enough energy. A few months later, we both moved permanently back into my dads, although ds only spent 1 night at our house in the meantime, and I split my nights between the two houses. (DP lives about an hour away, however he is always there for me)
The first 12 moths were horrendous in that I was never ever sure I wouldnt come home to find dad had topped himself. He never went back to work, having gone for early retirement the GP kept him signed off until it was time for him to finish anyway. I would often make sure I was the first through the living room door in case. Dad would take ds to school, which meant he had to be up on a morning. We would (and still do) eat together as a family which meant I knew dad had at least one meal a day. Slowly he went back to playing golf and now is out at the course most days of the week.
DS (now 12) would and still does bottle it all up, but on the occasions it does burst out I have been here. He has also struggled with his separation anxiety increasing a lot, which has lead to being extremely clingy and not wanting me away from him, not wanting me out at bedtime, out after he goes to bed, needing to know where I am at all times. Again, this has been managed slowly and sensitively, with lots of reassurance, phone calls to let him know when I arrive places, a daily discussion of were I am going to be that day, and whatever is needed to help him through.
So here we are, 16 months on. Up to now, I haven't really felt anything. Tears over the days following mums death, tears at the funeral (although I stood and spoke dry-eyed, and even managed to get a laugh or two from those in the church), and once or twice since. But that has been it. No real feelings of missing mum, no going to speak to her, seeing things I know she would like in the shops, no triggers that other people mention. Until about a month ago.
I work part time in the hospital trust where she died. It is split over two sites, and I split my time evenly between the 2 sites. The team I work with deals with elderly patients and thus we have a relatively high number of deaths amongst our patients. I have no direct patient contact myself but am aware of what is happening. Three weeks ago, one of our patients died suddenly which really hit hard. It is not the first within the team, and wont be the last, but it hit hard, and hurt me a lot. Since then other little things have caught me unawares and thrown me. Yesterday was especially bad. I was photocopying and the photocopier I was using is situated outside the consultant anaesthetists' offices. I wanted to go and talk to the one who was around (not one from that night) asking why mum didnt survive, why she died on the table, why they weren't able to successfully intubate her. Successfully avoided it, although productivity levels hit almost zero, then went to speak to the chaplain before I left work for the day. There are 2 chaplains, the one I have spoken to several times is on holiday all week. The other I dont know and didnt want to have to go through it all with. Went to the car to be greeted with 'Don't leave me this way' followed by 'I'll be there'. Was up al night with the songs going round and round in my head. Just so angry, so fed up, so pissed off, so upset. Why couldnt they save her, why did it have to be her, and why is it only hurting now, 16 moths on. I know all the answers to these questions, including the last, but knowing isnt helping.
I know there is nothing that can be said or done to help, I know this is grief, I know in time I will be able to deal with it better, it is just so raw at the moment, so painful. I can even rationalise why it is better for mum to have died when she did, as she did, but grief isnt rational.
If you managed to read this, thank you. It is more for me, but I appreciate you taking the time. I need to give the computer back to ds now, will be on again later, but feel a little better for typing it, though the tears are still hanging back, not yet falling