Margm

The emotion we are all lacking is ............enthusiasm.

My sentiments the same as the others. I do not like special dates. "To me" they are only special if I can share them. I share my grief with everyone on here. You have had some smashing hits to your psyche these past two years. From what I have read, you have been too busy to worry about yourself. If you are like me, you pray that you will stay strong and capable as long as you are needed, and it seems you are very much needed. That says a lot about us Butch. It puts fear in my gut sometimes that I cannot carry on, but that is something I will just have to try to do, and so will you, and so will we all. While they are asleep or resting, go to your private place. My heart is with you.

The first outreach to this forum was done by me three days after Billy left. (You know how I try to not say died, death, demise), as if the other was not as permanent. I would not dare go back and read that post. None for that first year. Most of my posts look like I do not reread them before I post them anyhow. I cannot look at pictures and I cannot go back to my feelings.. Just me. We all have different things that comfort us, the same thing that comforts my daughter sends me into a hizzy and I have to leave. She gets comfort from looking at Billy. I get memories and pain...............at this time. I don't know if it will ever be different. But believing that, it does not mean I will not try.

This is so true.

Not if you don't want to do this. My winter coats (and Billy's) are in one of these 15, maybe less now, boxes. I have them labeled. I'm not that cold yet. Some things I will do when I want to do them.

I can understand Gwen. You were married to music. I was married to a fisherman. Funny thing, I got him into it. I will never go again.

Brad, I never missed music. I would listen if Billy was not home. Our marriage evolved over those 54 years. Reading was one of my passions. Billy was a complex person at first. He was jealous of the time I spent reading. I wasn't paying attention to him. But then I got him into reading later on. It took Kindle to really convert him. He would stop watching TV at 10:00 pm, he cared not much for news He liked sports. But that Kindle would come out and he would spend the next 4-5 hours reading. Now this happened after he retired in 1997. I knew the kind of book he liked, I would load it to his Kindle and then I would print the synopsis out for him. He slept late. I had created a reading monster. I was so proud of him. I have all those books still on my Kindle and will read them in time. But music, he never cared for it. He wanted to talk or we could just be silent reading together. But, his jealousy of my reading, at one time that was a problem. A tiny one.

It is what it is. Some of the things our forum members do, I cannot do at all. I think I will try it, I try it, and the scar tissue falls off and the wound is raw. But, someone else, it helps them immensely. I keep trying the pictures and I have set backs of moments, hours, days. But, I am beginning to be able to listen to music. Oh, I always could listen to music, show music, Broadway music, just music Billy would not listen to. But, Billy was not into music much, thankfully. Now, I can listen to it a little. Maybe not words sometimes. We cannot do what other people do. The only thing we can do that other people do is "just breathe." I just went through a period of having dreams, nonsensical dreams that Billy was there too. Cannot remember them later, but in the dreams there is no sadness, not even on waking. I did wake myself up one night calling his name. Don't know why.

I don't keep a blog, but I used to. After Billy left, there is no way I can go back and read what I wrote after losing him. The scar tissue falls off the wound if I do that. These are just word salads that I write on here most times. Read if you want to. Nothing written in concrete, just my musing this morning. Also, a little pat on my back for myself. I speak of women, but men go through this too. I still think of myself as a woman, even though sometimes sweatshirts fix things where I don't have to wear a bra, damnable female strait jackets. “We should not judge people by their peak of excellence; but by the distance they have traveled from the point where they started.” ― Henry Ward Beecher When I was a little girl I would ask Mama to lets go riding. She would get the keys and take me to Hodges Grocery (down the street) and then come home. She had a lot of her daddy in her, that was a big joke to her, a disappointment to me. But, I learned a long time before that "children are to be seen, not heard." Not a bad or mean lesson. But, oh sometimes, sometimes in the summer she would take me up on Spring Branch Road, not far from the house, and we would fish off those wooden bridges over the little creeks/streams that were really across the AR line. I even enjoyed going to my grandparents out in the country. Just going. Billy tapped into my "going" bug and he would take me, or he would go fishing and I would ride by myself. I had nowhere to go. Just go. I bought Ferris-Yaris that gets up to 39 mpg for the distinct purpose of "just go." For my kind of "going" I was not sure the little truck would last. I took my first trip up to Shongaloo. I kept having a frightened feeling, could not tell why. I turned toward Springhill and turned left on Wise Road. Across the highway was Haynes Road. I was "home." But I wasn't. I was in terror that I could not understand and made it back to the apartment. This was a new problem that I had to overcome. Yesterday, I could not get Scott on the phone so I drove to Sibley to check on him. (He was okay, he just either does not plug his phone in or sometimes he loses it, or sometimes turns it off). That's Scott. I decided to try my "just go" feeling. Scott offered to go with me, he is a good son. I had to do it by myself. I rode through Sibley, which by the way, Billy's essence is not there. I feel that even he would not feel it. I drove toward Ringgold. I cannot tell you how many miles I put on Ferris-Yaris, but he performed beautifully all the way through Fryburg, Sailes, Jamestown, Castor, Bienville, Bryceland, road to Mt.. Lebanon, Gibsland, back to I-20, then to the apartment. No fear, no terror. A lot of "what if's" and "I wish we had lived here on retirement" and a lot of "wish I could start all over again's." But I cannot. You have to accept things as they are. One terror down, a few more to overtake. I am not special. Other women have to face losing a mate. We handle it the best we can at the time it happens. All of us in our own way.

I got in little Ferris-Yaris today and I rode about 150 miles through the south parish countryside into other parish. I went by myself. I was not scared. But, I had taken a Xanax that morning. Next week I will try to go to the northern part of the parish into the other parish that made me so scared. I was in Billy's family's country today, I will be in my childhood country next time. I'll see if that makes a difference. Went through little towns with friendly names. Close to where Bonnie and Clyde were killed. But the best thing is I got out by myself and did what I couldn't do, that I love to do. One step forward and I breathed and talked to Billy.

Oh, I don't know, I think I have had a little PTSD from my Christian faith from beating myself up with guilt. But that was "me" situated, not a normal everyday, living their faith Christian. Kinda like a backsliding Baptist.

It just didn't seem right to me on so many counts. First, since we have to have Medicare, it would seem against the law. After reading that, I began to think of my Medicare (which I pay for) as similar to welfare. I am not the brightest bulb on the string, but it just seemed wrong in all ways. That has been at least 5-10 years ago that I read that and I really started hating my Medicare. This "bright bulb" waited two years (which was probably not legal) to get Billy's Medicare (he worked 37 years for state government and never paid into SS). Anyhow, my "saving the government money cost me $10 for each year I had not signed him up ($20) more a month for his Medicare. I complained about Medicare paying so little to my cousin who has two son's that are doctors, and herself a PhD, and she said it was not welfare at all, we buy it and have paid for it. Like I said, that part of the string of bulbs is a little brighter than me. But, we have always had our Blue Cross as the secondary insurance from our group retirement, never changed. Still, his chemo was going to be so high that all of our insurance would not cover it. I said I didn't care what it cost he was to have the best they could give him. Then she called me into the office and said we qualified for the chemo drug company to pay the difference. Bless his heart, he did not live long enough to break their bank.

Brad, a few years back, not many, when Billy and I belonged to the Escapee RV Club I had read from one of the members that one of the hospitals there would not even accept Medicare. I don't remember when or where unfortunately, and you would definitely have to reach out because Medicare is a necessity. I think sometimes the large charges are made because they know Medicare will only pay a percentage. We spent a lot of time around Benson and the Escapee park there, so that concerned me. I think you would know more about this than I do. I wish we could go there again, but like Mama said "if wishes were horses, beggars would ride." I liked the reality of Billy's mom's saying though "___ in one hand and wish in the other and see which fills up the fastest."

I have had one when I was driving, since Billy left, that all I could do was keep driving. My reason for being out was to explore the roads of our childhood. I had to hurry home. But, years ago, back in the 80's, I did leave a full grocery buggy in the checkout line and turned and walked out the door. I believe you probably did have a panic attack, but you somehow controlled it, or you would have left in "mid-flight" without filling out the papers. There are times you feel "I cannot be here" and you leave. When I have my morning anxiety, I am in my apartment, I can handle it the best I can, there is no "flight or fight" response, no where to go, no one to talk to, you handle it yourself, take deep breaths, listen to your ear buds with that foreign man talking hypnotically to you (sometimes if I could find him I would choke him), and if that does not work you turn TV on, take a Xanax and chill out. Until Billy's death, I had only had them in the 80's, and not many at all. I actually meditated myself over that cool lagoon, (I was in a hammock physically, outside) and imagined myself on that soft moist cloud over the beautiful blue lagoon. I cannot do that anymore, at least not yet, realization that I cannot swim might hinder the process.

I do the meditation each night. Since part of mine is from the ruptured colon (the fear and shaking), and I should be thankful to be alive, I do know about the techniques, but yet cannot sometimes control the pain from the colon rupture when it arises. And I do control it, only rarely does it control me. But, because of it, there are medications I cannot take. Until hospitalization, which I hope to avoid, because the pain killer medications themselves could kill me, even antibiotics carefully monitored, the Xanax works nicely and will suffice until like Red Fox used to say "Elizabeth, this is the big one" and then I don't know what will happen, but know there is nothing more they can do.

Karen, we had the money and the insurance and we have been treated like a cadaver.

And we all know how I feel about doctors. I'm sorry Karen, I don't know what happens to doctors in this day and time. I have worked very close with many doctors. There are still good doctors out there, we just have to find one we can wear comfortably, like an Adidas shoe. Something that fits us. We search until we find them. They are still here. (And you cannot imagine how much of my word salad I just deleted ). Some of us knew doctors when they were family physicians and the patient came before all the paperwork. Except it is computer files now.

Well in my former home is snow. It is very cold here 175 miles south. I went outside awhile ago and it came to my mind there are people and animals that are out in this and there is nothing I can do about it anymore than I can bring Billy back. So, I will put it out of my mind for awhile. We made snow ice cream when it would snow in AR. Billy's favorite food. Condensed milk and smooth (white) snow and vanilla flavoring. Like biscuits and gravy, those things were reserved for him, I won't make them again. I just couldn't. If you have snow though, try it. It has to be condensed milk though, sugar just granulates in the snow. Put it in the deep freeze, it will freeze hard, but you can put it in the blender. Billy didn't let it stay frozen long.

I knew what they were, because when I had cancer I would have them and a psychiatrist told me what they were. These just slipped up on me and won't let me go. I read somewhere that because I have had a ruptured colon that sometimes that will make a person shake during periods of upset. I definitely have that, But I am absolutely sure these things will hang on and I do not plan on stopping Xanax. Not much medicine I can take anyhow, definitely no antidepressants, so someone will give me the Xanax until I no longer need it, and that will be when I, myself, leave. I did quit having them after the cancer and never had them again until October of 2015. I didn't have them while he was sick because I was stronger than God, I was not going to let him go.

Well, on my calendar, I took a shower on January 2nd. I don't know when I will take another one. I do my PTA bathing, but don't want to bathe, see people, or do anything but play on the computer. Guess I'll have to take another on Wednesday. So Wednesday's will be my Saturday night bath. Aren't you glad Mitchum's lasts so long. I know my family is happy with that. On a serious note, I start having my "terror" attacks, anxiety really, about 10:00 a.m. each morning. And, somehow I associate that with the time Billy would be waking up and I would be taking him his coffee after him reading till 2:00 a.m. That was our daily/nightly routine. If you think that was boring, I honestly want to die of boredom. I have always said that. I have had my share of excitement in my life. No one analyzed my anxiety attacks and really fighting off taking a Xanax at 10:00 a.m. as the reason I gave. I just accept it. I'm fighting it. I try to do something else and honestly am not thinking of this at the time I start having my terror, shortness of breath, but finally I decided this must be the reason. I have come to the assumption that if I want to think it, I will. Now, if I could only turn my mind to those quotes that are happier and make a lot of sense. Not too occupied with sense right now.

My dad passed in 1984. He knew he was dying yet he was afraid he would get addicted. Now this was a lifetime railroad agent with above average intelligence and he knew what the outcome would be. After the hydrocodone did not touch Billy's pain that came on immediately, not nagging pain, his mesenteric arteries had become obstructed and his pain was unbearable. They had done the liver biopsy, it was a teaching hospital, and I am sure they let a first year resident do it. He was climbing the walls begging someone to shoot him. Then the morphine took control. Until then all I could do was hold him. Now this goes on for days and weeks with some patients. Billy's only lasted a few days and after I had given him about 6-7 hydrocodone in an overnight period and they hospitalized him and put stents in his mesenteric arteries (I thought I was going to kill him, but the hydrocodone did not touch the pain.) The surgery took care of most of the pain but if he even grimaced, I put a morphine pill in his mouth and was not going to let him hurt. Nothing I could do in the ER, he was throwing up everything, all his insides, etc. Hippocratic oath? That was taken to heart by doctors that would visit patients in their homes, doctors like my old doctors when I was a kid, family doctors. I doubt if the new ones even take the oath. If they do, they don't mean it. It is like politicians, the insurance companies, lobbyists for pharmaceutical firms, and the politicians themselves who make the rules the doctors have to go by now. I worked closely with 3 family practice doctors, all good men, one might see 20 or more patients, one may see 15, and the other would only see maybe five. Everybody wanted to go to him. But he was not making money for the partnership, he thought he was a doctor, a healer, so they started timing him 15 minutes for each patient. I don't even need to get started on doctors after working over 40 years with them. But, I will say this, there are still some out there. With luck you might find one. Yes, I am jaded even though one of those doctors saved my life. They sent him for anger management..

"Until I get home to heaven, there’s going to be an ache that won’t quit. The grieving process for me is not so much a matter of getting rid of the pain, but not being controlled by the pain.” This was written by a fellow that was being questioned about why didn't he have more faith, that the process of his loved ones death had been seven years and when was he ever going to get control of himself. It made the man very angry. Our grief is our own and no one else feels it like we do. If they have never known it, they will never understand. So, when some well meaning person "fusses" at you, just consider the source and if you can, walk away. One of my friends was dying. I was secretary to her brother, a doctor. She needed pain pills. He would not give them to her. She said "I hope I live long enough to see you hurt this much." We got another doctor to write a script. Not at her brother's request. He would have let her hurt. She died soon afterwards. I will never forget that scene in his office though. People will not understand until it happens to them. We do not wish the pain on anyone, but they will not understand as they live now.

I have the friend who had to get married at 14. He was 17. She was a widow at 17. Her child's father, but she was just a child herself. She got her GED and worked hard to support that baby. Met this "fly by night" fellow, had another baby. Then he brought his girlfriend and their baby to live with my friend. This little child herself, she took care of all of them. Divorced, he married other baby mama. They all stayed friends. House family most of the time. I think his drinking got him killed. Met another with kids, married, kids didn't get along. Divorce. Then stole the "love of her life" the little red headed cowboy from his wife of many years. He could not understand why she got so upset because he ran around on her. They went to marriage counselor and he married the marriage counselor. Then they both became pastors and started a "cowboy church." Talk about "looking for love in all the wrong places." There was another in there somewhere, don't remember him. But "true love?" Which one? Her grown son said "Mama, you don't have any luck with men, maybe you ought to try women." Sometimes you find true love. Sometimes you love that true love but dislike them at the same time. But still love them. I know I have lost my best friend. And yes, he had to be my true love. Sometimes we find them, sometimes they die and leave us and we know we have lost something more valuable than your own life is to you. I always knew it was Billy, only one time seriously thought I didn't want to go back after a six week separation. That was 1993. I reluctantly went back. I am glad I did. There are some of our mates their personality and love sparkled like no one else could. It was not love at first sight. It grew into an adult love though that no other could touch, I always knew I would fight for our life and so would he. But, there are other people out there. Maybe not for me, but for others of you, even though the doubt is there, there are other friendships that might develop into something else. My biggest fear, losing someone else. My friend is fixing to lose her 2nd husband. At our group a woman had lost her over 40 year marriage husband, married neighbor she had known for 30 years, he died after four. I am afraid my little psyche could not withstand another loss. I wanted to follow this one, with intent and purpose. But still, you younger ones, you have your choice. Most of my older friends would not think of it, but some of them did. Life is stranger than fiction.

I think we all feel better having someone to talk to. We do what we have to do to help ourselves. I have lived almost 3/4th of a century and I can see you younger people needing to have life left. I was with Billy over half a century and while I can be friends with men, I am too old to be anything but friends. Some of my women friends have remarried. Some have not. One of my male friends remarried and is very happy. We do what we can to help ourselves. Just be very careful. I know you want happiness and I know everyone wants you to have it too. I never was one to take advice, and I do not have sense enough to give it either. We all need peace of mind. How we find it................., well, that is up to us.

You know there were no men at this meeting. I mentioned that the word needs to get out more for more people to come. A meeting once a week will never take the place of somewhere like this. You cannot sit at home in pain and crying and wait and let it out once a week. A psychiatrist once a week or twice a month does not take the place of having a forum to come to, to cry, to shout out the pain we are under at any given time 24 hours a day. If you cannot sleep you can come here and there is usually someone else that cannot sleep and usually for the same reason. We know each other better than any group will get to know each other meeting once a week and yet none of us would recognize the other if we met on the street. I will keep going to the meetings. Maybe I can get some help, (because of my needing my faith back) but maybe there will be someone else that I can help because of the truth we learn from this forum.