@saraclara Sorry for the loss of your DH 
I wrote a very long post in the early hours, but it got lost somehow after I posted it.
I am a mess. I miss my Dbro. I think we all do. My dad, probably the most; certainly he was most visibly distressed.
Dbro was the 'gel'. He was able to stop mum from being highly strung and having a go at dad (this isn't a flaw as such, this is how she related, she is less emotional than dad was), Dbro was able to keep Dsis under control (I do love Dsis, but she is very, very forceful, very prone to fits of temper, slamming doors, claims she wants to 'win', mum and I tend to acquiesce to her and give in, Dbro was able to stand up to her more), for me he was my confidant and that was mutual.
We don't know why Dbro died. He had double vision, went to the GP, who sent him to A&E, who in turn sent him to Oxford, who diagnosed him with a stroke, then discharged him.
He then started falling. Was admitted to hospital again. Another MRI decided that he hadn't had a stroke after all, in fact they decided that his symptoms (by now including weak leg and arm muscles and slurred speech), were 'psychological'.
Then he was reviewed again, sent to a specialist neurological centre. Had several lumbar punctures, MRIs, CAT scans, etc, etc. Several illnesses were ruled out such as Myasthenia Gravis, MS etc. But they didn't know what was wrong.
After a few months we were called into hospital. His condition had stabilised, but he couldn't see properly. His eyes looked in different directions, he couldn't walk, talk properly or grip.
His frontal brain showed damage, but it wasn't caused by a stroke, though they couldn't say what had caused it. He had tested positive to Lymphoma, but oncology had said as his symptoms weren't typical they weren't prepared to see him.
As the condition had settled, and wasn't expected to worsen, they decided to send him to a rehabilitation hospital so he could regain some function and independence.
Then Covid happened. The hospital was recommissioned as a Covid hospital (and NEVER used) and Dbro was sent to languish in a care home miles and miles away.
We weren't allowed to visit, but the care home said he wasn't eating (and clearly they weren't caring for him either).
After a few months we were told he was in hospital with a UTI. Then had a call saying he had aspiration pneumonia, and we could visit him.
What we saw was a shock. He'd been a big man. Despite of muscle wasting he was emaciated...he looked like a POW. His beard was down to his waist. We found out the care home had expressed concerns that his ability to swallow had ceased, yet the hospital had tried to get him to feed and water himself, leading to his death.
We asked for a post mortem and were denied. We were desperate to know what caused his underlying illness, especially as all the doctors believed it to be genetic, they kept on saying they may or may not find it on PM, so it was not worth doing! I am so, so bitter about it.
I miss him so much. He should be here, helping. Dad told the doctors to deal with me (and it is me who is dealing with the practical things now), as I'm quite good at practical things, in a way a bit like Dbro, mum forgets things, Dsis tells people about her problems, I deal with what needs to be done, but right now, apart from doing what needs to be done, I'm kind of dizzy, not with it.
Dad died just after DD1 left primary school. I picked her up, left her with DH, went round to see him. Mum answered the door. The FN nurses had just gone and she said he was the same. As soon as I walked in I knew he was gone. He was still warm, but I could just sense it...I was literally just too late.
He was so proud of DD getting into grammar and said he wanted to drive her there. I'm ruining her holiday as all I've done since she's broke up last week is deal with things.
Everyone else thinks I'm doing OK as I'm dealing with everyone, all friends/relatives, telling them when the funeral is etc, organising for them to see him to say goodbye, etc.
I haven't even cried yet.
DD has psoriasis and a skin tag under her eye, I'm now panicking that it is something else, she's waiting for dermatology, but I keep waiting for the next thing to go wrong...
I haven't even cried yet. I feel like an emotionless monster.