6 months ago my BF DH died. He was my friend too. I was with her when he went and I think it is only just hitting me. I think I need to write down what happened in order to come to terms with it. I have talked about it but it still seems to be going round and round in my head and the images from that day are still so vivid and real. I could play it like a video tape in my head.
At the point G was put on the emergency donor list a few of us agreed not to leave my friend alone (he had only been ill for 2 weeks, a sudden and rare liver disease). The day he died, I was due to about lunchtime and stay the night with her to wait for the call about a transplant. We were all staying positive. I had a call first thing from the friend (C)who was with her asking me to get to the hospital as soon as I could, there were complications and he needed surgery. We live 50 miles away and I got there as fast as I possibly could. My DH dropped me off at the station and just told me that I was going to have to be really strong but that I could do it. I was fearing the worst at that point. When I got to the hospital I phoned C to find ot where they were and all I could hear was this awful wailing in the background that will stay with me forever. I rushed to where they were and S (my best friend) had just been told that G wouldn't recover and they were bringing him up from the operating theatre so she could see him.
She begged me to do something, to tell them they had to make him better, to fix it because I was good at fixing things. I felt so helpless. I felt like I was having an outer body experience. I felt like I was a really bad actress is a terribly written soap opera. These things didn't really happen and everything seemed so unreal. All I could hear was her wails and my heart beating. I knelt down in front of S clutching her hands. I can see the scence like it was yesterday - will that image ever go? I felt bereft and helpless. After about 10 minutes the doctor came in and said we could see him. She asked if he was going to be OK. The doctor said no, but she could say goodbye. How could this be happening I thought - 3 weeks befre we had all gone out to dinner. Before I knew it I was in front of this lovely, handsome, funny man lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines and people talking about what they were doing as if was any other day at the office. That really hit me as bizarre. Logically I know that is how they have to be but emotionally I wondered why they were not as devastated as us. How could they be so normal. He wasn't conscious. I told S to talk to him and asked her if she wanted to be alone. She did, I left and 5 minutes later she came to tell myself and C that he had gone.
She went back in to be with him and we waited for her brother and his sister who arrived shortly afterwards. We told them that he had gone, although we didn't really need to tell them. They could tell by our faces. Again, I felt like I was speaking terribly written lines from a bad play. I fetched tea. I went in to say my own goodbyes. I felt like I was intruding, it felt so personal, to see him like that. I had never even seen him asleep. I told her that we was lovely and that he loved her and that they were the happiest couple I knew. I told him that I would miss him and DH would miss him and that I felt so sad that DD would never know him. I apologised for never getting around to having her christened so that he could be her Godfather. I left.
I then made calls - her mum, his best friend, her work, my DH. We then had to leave, S didn't want to go to leave him there. Getting her out of the hospital was very hard.
I drove her home, luckily there was sat nav to get me out of central london but I don't think I can ever listen to one again without thinking about that journey. The closer we got to home the more she cried. C and I had to help her through the door. Her mum was there, we drank tea, we drank brandy, we talked about him, we laughed, we cried. We then put her to bed about 4am and I felt I was leading someone to the gallows. The sound of her crying as she went up the stairs will never leave me. I have never seen someone so utterly devastated and broken. I slept with her, or rather I laid in bed stroking her hair calming her down. The next morning her Dad arrived and we left. Leaving her was hard but I stayed as much as could in the weeks that followed.
S, C and I have never really talked about that day all together. I have talked about it to other people but it is playing on my mind at the moment. Probably because she scattered his ashes yesterday on holiday where they learned how to dive. And it is 6 months tomorrow since it happened.
I think it has helped, writing it down. If anyone is still with me, thank you so much for reading.