Well, the last couple of days have been rather draining. The main event yesterday was a phone call from the patron of the charity that is supporting us. She was able to tell me from the information on the post mortem report that the boys have a 50% chance of inheriting/developing the same heart problem that my dh had. I knew that the boys were going to be screened, but the GP had not told me (if he knew) quite how high the risk was. It was just too much to take on board and I shook again for hours.
The lovely lady was very positive about the fact that there is a lot of research going on into it, developments are happening all the time and there may be drugs that can help as and when required. I think I missed a lot of the detail, to be honest, amid my shock at what I was hearing. The boys will be at particular risk during puberty and will need screening every six months then until they are 22. I have rung the boys' paediatrician today and have asked to be referred straight to the consultant at our regoinal centre that the lady recommended.
Today, I am feeling a bit calmer - I tend to find with all things in life that one can only remain so scared for a short period of time. It's almost like it becomes yesterday's news and the body and brain start to deal with it somehow.
I made a big list last night of all the companies I needed to ring in order to change documents and to help me commence the probate process (which I am intending to do myself, as opposed to paying the £500-£4000 bill that it would otherwise entail if I used a solicitor). The reposnse I have had on the hpone has been shocking in part, and I am going to write some of it so that if I decide to write a book in the future (or a letter of complaint), that the detial is here.
On Tuesday I had a visit from a telephone engineer. He asked me lots of techy questions that I couldn't answer as it was dh who had set it all up. In the end, I told him tha the appointment had been booked by my husband who had since died and that i really had no idea about the speed of our current broadband etc.. He replied, "So, do you actually want faster broadband still, or don't you need it now?" Perhaps there is some rule somewhere that I have missed tha says that widows don't need fast broadband?!!
When ringing my car insurance company today (as dh was a named driver on my policy), I was shocked to hear the lady telling me that I would need to pay them an extra £56 today, because of my sad loss. I managed to decrease this a little by putting my mum on it instead, but it still cost me £36 extra. To add insult to injury, the lady then said, "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I'm afraid there is also a £25 administration fee payable, as we will need to rewrite your documents without your husband's name on them." To this, I spluttered and asked who to complain to. She replied, "Well, it is in the small print on your policy that you would be liable to such a charge if you needed new documents at any point." I broke down at this point and replied angrily, "Yes, and when I took out the policy with you, I wasn't expecting my 39 year old husband to die on me!" She put me on hold and then said the admin fee could be waived in this instance. I had to pay today and that involved setting up a new card to pay with as, "Your husband's card seems to have expired!" (No shit...) Meanwhile ds2, aged 3, had taken it upon himself to get the hoover out and was merrily hoovering the carpet in the background - another farcical moment!
This afernoon, I rang BT. I wasn't sure when we changed provider and needed to know if there was an oustanding balance on the day of dh's death (as this is what I need to know for probate - I've learnt so much in the last 3 weeks). The lady kept asking if she was speaking with the account holder (even though I had already explained that my husband had held the account and had since died). Eventually, I raised my voice and said, "No! He's dead!" She then got very shirty with me about the fact that our account swapped to a new provider on April 29th and could not fathom why I would need to know the balance on the 25th (even though I had explained several times). I asked to speak to someone else and she refused to put me through to anyone. In the end, I put the phone down!
I can not believe that companies treat people like this and am quite shaken up by the whole affair. On the up side, I have successfully rung 10 companies today, have renewed my car tax disc online, ordered the online supermarket shop, taken ds2 back to his swimming lesson for the first time since dh died, taken ds2 for his routine hospital appointment, made spaghetti bolognese and done bath and bed on my own, carried the beautiful 8 foot tree (delivered by courier) from my lovely, supportive MN ante-natal group across my garden (and tied it to the climbing frame to protect it from falling over until my brother can come on Saturday and help me dig a big hole), tidied out a big cupboard (as I needed to find birthday presents hidden within it) and persuaded ds1 to get out of bed this morning, after an hour of cajoling (and making him scrambled eggs on toast), as he simply wasn't up for joining the world today. When I list it like this, I know why I am tired. I haven't had enough time today to think about dh (and that in itself makes me sad). I did discover yesterday that he had neglected to renew the house insurance in November last year for 2 weeks. I did tell the rather surprised lady on the phone that it was a good job he had died, or I might have throttled him!!
Three weeks have passed already since that fateful evening. I was just arriving back from the hospital at this time then, completely shocked and unable to process what had unfolded since dh left for football at 5:50pm. Now, I still can't really get my head around the fact that this horrible set of circumstances is happening to me and to my gorgeous boys - it is something that happens to other people. We all desperately wish he could just come home. Hearing the risk about the boys' health would have been hard enough to deal with if dh was here to help me. Suddenly facing it alone (but with a merry band of fab helpers), it seems enormous, overwhelming and pretty unbearable. This isn't something I can learn to get over, but something that I now have to deal with through the years, in addition to the loss of my wonderful husband. Life seems very fragile and unfair today.