Hindsight is a terrible thing

[mittam99]

I guess you can say I am someone who tends to overthink things. I often will second guess myself or question whether I did something the right or wrong way. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing. For example, I might have made a food dish for the first time and it didn't turn out as expected. I'll think of ways I can make it differently (better) the next time. That, to me, is a positive thing. But, this thread isn't about cooking, it's about how hindsight makes my grief journey so difficult. And maybe hindsight is affecting your journey as well.

I want to talk about one specific thing that seems to haunt me. I have quite a few things where I question myself over and over but this one moment and my thoughts about it stagger me. On the day Tammy died, a day that started with great hope, I often wonder if Tammy actually passed away twice. Once in a gentle way and once in an awful and traumatic way. And I wonder if I was to blame.

On the afternoon of Tammy's death, she was extremely tired. She also seemed a bit confused. I thought maybe it was her new narcotic pain pill and after a call to my doctor brother-in-law and Tammy's mom, they both agreed. From that moment on, I began to wonder if Tammy was "OK". You have to understand that with Tammy's lupus and other issues she was always tired. And since she had come home from rehab, two nights before, she was very tired, trying to regain her strength after another prolonged illness/hospital stay. Fatigue was normal for her. 

It's the next thing that happened and my action that has my mind in torture. I was working on setting up some exercise equipment for Tammy and walked into our bedroom to check on her. What I saw bewildered and scared the hell out of me. There was Tammy, sitting on the edge of the bed as if she was getting up to go to the bathroom. And slowly, almost in slow motion, she fell backwards (gently)  into bed. I've never seen anything like it. Did she just faint? Is it something worse? I cried out her name over and over and held her in my arms. And then, her eyes opened and she just said how tired she was. I was relieved beyond belief, but still shaking. Tammy put her head on the pillow and went back to sleep.

Now, here's where hindsight comes in and works it's torture...

Looking back on that moment, I now wonder if Tammy may have actually been passing away right there on the bed. When she heard my voice, did it kind of bring her back? Her love for me and her desire to live being so great.

A couple hours later, she couldn't catch her breath and was being rushed into the ambulance, vital signs failing and ultimately that guy violently pounding on her chest to no avail. She was unresponsive and gone before she made it to the hospital.

Hindsight has me thinking maybe I did the wrong thing when I saw Tammy "falling back" in bed. What if I didn't call out her name to "wake" her? Wouldn't she have gotten the "gentle into the night" passing she deserved? But, there was no way I wasn't going to call out her name over and over to make sure she was OK. That was my wife, my life and one of the most wonderful human beings the world has known right there. I had no choice. But hindsight happens after the fact and has you seeing things with a different set of knowledge in your head.

I know realistically that Tammy's health had been ravaged over the years with health scares and traumatic health events that many wouldn't even have lived through. She survived a cardiac arrest, multiple sepsis events, kidney failure, multiple life threatening infections, many many surgeries, MRSA, cellulitis, e-coli, on and on. She has severe systemic Lupus, Raynaud's and Sjogren's. She had high blood pressure. Her heart lost some of its functioning after her cardiac arrest. She was on steroids for over 20 years. She had many instances where she would just collapse and faint for no apparent reason. She would hemhorrage spontaneously.

Many doctors called her the most "complicated" patient they have ever seen. Others called her a medical miracle. That she survived through all that is a testament to her courage and her incredible will to live and love of life. I'd also like to think that my love pulled her through many of the horrific events we faced together.

People tell me I was a wonderful, devoted, amazing husband. They tell me how Tammy would constantly brag about me when she spoke to them.

And I know that is the truth. But my sweet Tammy, the most wonderful girl in the world, the girl with the gentle, loving, kind soul isn't alive anymore, but I am. And hindsight has me questioning and pondering everything I did or didn't do. 

The one thing I do know is that I always loved Tammy and always will. She enriched my life and I will always live with her and her love inside of me, a changed man. A better man.

 

[Polly]

Oh yes, hindsight is a terrible thing. I torture myself with that lately. I think back and wonder why I didn't catch on to what was happening in the months before. The thing is both Rich and I had/have psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis. So it wasn't uncommon for his back to hurt. It wasn't uncommon for blood work to be out of whack. Then I think about 2 years before Rich died. He was an alcoholic. It got so bad that on my daughters 14th birthday, I ended spending the night in the ER with him. He had pancreatitis. He spent a week in the hospital and I thought I might lose him. When he came home from the hospital we had a talk and he knew he could never drink again if he wanted to live. He was determined and never had another drink. He was so proud of himself and I loved the sober Rich.

[kayc]

I know the Serenity Prayer, and it's something I have to work on, but those last images are burned into our brains and seem to haunt us...followed closely with the what ifs.  What IF I hadn't notified the hospital personnel of his last heart attack, maybe he would have gone more swiftly and with less pain.  Of course I would have wondered the rest of my life if something could have been done to save him, so that wasn't really an option.  But their working on him was very painful and drug out the inevitable.  And this is the way he always said he didn't want to go!  

I think we do have to let go of the what ifs because they aren't what happened and we can't change it.  We did the best we knew at the time, that's all anyone can do.

[enna]

Mitch said,  “People tell me I was a wonderful, devoted, amazing husband. They tell me how Tammy would constantly brag about me when she spoke to them.”

Part of our grief journey, Mitch, is that we tell our stories. You are doing just that. I don’t think there is a person here who hasn’t second-guessed how we cared for our beloved spouses. It is part of our being human. It is what happens when two people have shared a life together. You and your Tammy had a love life that included her illnesses and you were focused on that many times during your marriage. How could you not wonder if you did everything you could to help her? You know what is in your heart and deep down you know you did the best you could do at the time. I hope that you will be able to tell yourself that because of your love for Tammy it would have been impossible to do anything else but your very best for her as she struggled with her illnesses.

Our forum is a place where we can tell our stories. Those of us who come here know that we are heard. We can tell one another over and over again that we did the best we could do at the time. One day, we just might even begin to believe that.

Thank you for being here and sharing your story. I believe that when we talk about our concerns it not only helps us but it also helps others deal with what is normal in grief.

 

 

[Margm]

Maybe that is why they call hindsight 20/20.  

I think remembering back to what I could have, should have, would have done will definitely be the death of me.  And, I am at the point that the "death of me" would not be such a calamity.  But, what would it do to those that think they have to "take care of me" and I have a purpose right now of getting my granddaughter, teenager that she is, Billy's own heart, it is my purpose to get her to being a self sufficient person, and there is so much I cannot talk about, and won't bore anyone with.  

In some countries and some religions there is a strict form of punishment called self-flagellation.  It means beating with a whip, strap, rope, or some form of self punishment and honestly, I think I have done that for over seven months.  I am so tired of my "what if's and why didn't I see this or that" that it seems like I have self appointed myself as God.  I have discussed, did discuss his treatment, the hospitals with his grown kids, with everyone who would listen.  I have come to believe I did everything I possibly could, in the circumstances that were given.  

I will not dishonor him by remembering those short five weeks.  I will be thankful that he did not have to go through the suffering his father and my father went through.  I have ordered that all pictures taken of him while he was sick be destroyed.  He would be heartbroken if that is how we honor him, if that is how we remember him.  I am human.  I will still question why I did not do things different because the most important person in my life is not with me anymore..  I was not old until he left.  My grandmother wrote that "living  with him was as close to heaven on earth as I will get, until I am with him again."  That is my feelings also.  

“There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.” 
― William Wordsworth

[Gin]

 I think we all second guess ourselves about how we dealt with our loved ones last days.  Al was blind and did not know where he was.  He asked me if we were home.  He wanted to go home so bad.  There was no way I could handle him alone at home.  Plus I thought the hospital was going to get him stronger so we could have our life back.  Maybe I should have hired someone to help so he could come home.  He died 2 days later.  The day before he died, I let them put in a nasal feeding tube.  Again, to get him nourishment so he would get stronger.  He hated that tube.  All the thins we all had to do and then feel guilty about later.  He was the best person I had in my life and wanted to keep him so much.

[Guest]

I try to focus on the fact that I only know the outcomes of the choices I made; I cannot possibly know the outcomes of the choices I did not make.  Because of that I really try to, and frequently struggle to, remember that the past is unchangeable and thus it serves little purpose to second guess choices made.  I also do not see hindsight as useful unless my focus is on the positives.  My goal for today is to try to focus on today because that is the only tense I have control over.

[KATPILOT]

I never really thought about those last few weeks and days because so much else was overshadowing all that. I didn't feel guilt or second guessed myself. Four months before Kathy died after she first had felt the lump in her thigh, the first doctor we saw told her the best chance of survival would be to remove the leg immediately at the pelvic bone. That was not acceptable to her and she chose instead the Mayo where they had a plan. They had a plan alright. Good plan, didn't work. Sure, knowing what we learned, the first doctor may have been right. She still may not have survived but perhaps she might have. Had it been my decision I would have opted to remove the leg.  It was her choice however and she made it. The fact is, she died. Moving forward is my only option and it serves no purpose to question right or wrong decisions. Sometimes things just don't work out. Remembering those last few days doesn't bother me all that much either. I have a lot of bad memories that come to mind every once in a while and lately I have come to learn to accept them as just part of my life. I hated them before, but their going to come anyway so what the hell. You can't appreciate good memories without having bad ones. My happy memories with Kathy are just that much happier. I was looking for a photo the other day and I came upon a picture I took of her in the air ambulance flying back to Phoenix. We knew we were batting into a sticky wicket but she still had that smile on her face, a brave young lady all the way. Five days later the battle was lost.  So when I look at that picture, it hurts yet it inspires. It speaks of courage and it makes me appreciate who she was just that much more.

[Froggie4635]

I haven't really thought about guilt in regards to Mark's death.  He smoked and that contributed to his death.  Like Brad said, the tense we are in is the only one we have control over.  Mark was ill for Thanksgiving and we were in the ER the Friday after.  It was one of his "cycles"...gastritis due to his drinking.  Throwing up and not being able to keep anything down....I told him that we were not going to let it go on like before.  Mark did not have insurance, so that meant a big payout each time he had one of his "cycles".  This time, he told them that he was having pains in his chest.  I didn't think it was anything more than esophageal spasms.  They admitted him into the hospital, but released him the next morning.  Once they got his stomach settled, he seemed much better.  That Tuesday, December 2...his birthday, he was here at work helping me decorate for our luncheon.  He was so excited to be a part of it; here he was climbing up and down ladders...did he push himself too much?  That Thursday morning, when I woke to find him in the bathroom looking scared and telling me that what he was feeling was "different"...it makes me feel awful that the first thing I thought about was the cost if we ended up in the ER again.  I NEVER thought that it was coming....that death was coming.  On the way to the hospital, following behind the ambulance, my thought was what the rehab he was going to need was going to cost.  What a HORRIBLE thing to be thinking about.  I know I did everything I could do to keep him alive, because he still had a pulse and faint heartbeat when EMS arrived.  Do I have second thoughts over what I was thinking that morning...you bet.  I wasn't prepared for the outcome...and the reality is that nothing can change it.  NOTHING.  One thing I have NO REGRETS about is that I made sure that Mark knew EVERY DAY that I loved him...that I loved US.  Unconditionally. 

[Patty65]

A lot of times what I write is what I need to hear more than anything else.  I often think about what my therapist would tell me when I am caught in the grips of my own head.  I've said similar things to her -- IF IF IF... I had this or that. The thoughts are there. The beliefs are there. We observe them.  We try not to feed them, because... "are they coming from a place of loving yourself?" If they aren't they are not a voice to listen to.  We've been through enough, we've been through too much.  Why beat ourselves up more?  Yet I do it all the time.  Give me a big ole mallot and I'll knock the top of my head a few times, and think I'm making myself feel better. We were so helpless when they faded, or when they went quickly.  No wonder we want to figure out what we could have done differently.  Nobody bears "helplessness" well.  And here we are, helpless to change it all now still.

There are a million times I think about all the things I could have done or tried to keep the melanoma from coming back.  Not just at the end, but long before that.  Regrets.  Giant huge life-altering regrets.  My therapist actually didn't know how to answer.  She said "everyone has regrets".  Another old college counselor said "you'll always find a way to make yourself guilty, and you probably could not have made him do something he didn't want to do".   Even if all of those things are true, which they probably are, I am still haunted.  I guess it is a small comfort that by putting it out there, I know that even if hold onto all the WHAT IFs, those who love me don't believe in them.

I also believe that Tammy -- and Ron -- and all our loved ones -- would not want us to torment ourselves with it.  And knowing us like they do, they also know we still will.

 

[KarenK]

In the midst of all the "what if's" floating around in our fractured hearts, we  must each remember that we did everything possible within our own human knowledge and capabilities to save our loved ones. We all have regrets for the things that we did or did not do. The one thing we all did was to love that person until the end of their days and beyond and I have to believe that they each knew it.

For me, I try to remember that I honored Ron's long time wish that he never die in a hospital. I moved heaven and hell to get Hospice to bring him home on that last day. They doubted he would survive the ambulance ride. He did and I believe he knew I had brought him home.

We must all be gentle with ourselves.

[Margm]

5 minutes ago, KarenK said:

We must all be gentle with ourselves.

You are a wise woman Karen.  Hugs.  Hope your tests are all over with and everything was what you wanted it to be.  Let us hear.  

[iPraiseHim]

I have gone through many "what if, and If only I ..." scenarios. My mind is many times trying to figure out some way I can lay blame to myself for my wife's death.  Realistically and logically, I did everything I could to make my wife as comfortable, and live life to the fullest she could given her physical limitations.  Our money was so limited, but I would find ways to cheer her up,  bring her joy, and just be with her as much as I could.  She knew she was loved by me because I spoke it, showed and lived it out each day.  I was not perfect, but I know she knew how much I loved her and how much I cherished and honored and loved her.  She would ask me, why do you do all of this and you never moan or complain.  "Rose Anne, It's because I love you and I told you I would show you everyday how much I love you more each day." She would weep with tears of humble joy!  We were blessed to love each other deeply every day for almost twenty six years.  I chose to remember all of those times rather than that one shocking day when I found her passed away.

One of my biggest fears, was to go to work and come home one day and find her dead.  We talked and prayed about these fears and she said, "Oh, George, my death is never going to be that easy.  Everything in my life has been a struggle except our  love for each other". A couple of weeks later is when I found her after driving home through a blinding snowstorm.  So one of my biggest fears did indeed happen.  As shocking and bad as it was, by God's grace, I am still alive today, 473 days later.

Another recurring fear I had was that I would die before my wife and she would be left alone to die.  She would not have called anyone and/ or refused dialysis and she would have died within the week.  So God was merciful to me for her sake. Shalom - George   

[mittam99]

1 hour ago, iPraiseHim said:

One of my biggest fears, was to go to work and come home one day and find her dead.  We talked and prayed about these fears...

George, I completely understand that fear. With Tammy's history of unfathomable medical issues, that was a fear of mine too. I'd leave for work in the morning after making Tammy breakfast. I'd leave her something to drink and some snack stuff and off I'd go to work. I'd be thinking about her my entire shift at work. The second I'd come in the house, I literally listened to see if I could hear snoring. If I didn't, I'd run upstairs to make sure she was OK.

We didn't talk about death. That was because of me. It's always been a subject that's difficult for me to handle. I think it started with the death of a cousin of mine who died of cancer as a teenager. Then my grandfather's suicide. My dad dying of leukemia at 55. My beloved mom (I was her caregiver for a few years) dying of cancer. It overwhelms me.

Getting back to this hindsight thing...

I guess I like to think I'm in control. And in most situations I feel I am. There's a part of me that says I was Tammy's knight in shining armor and her "protector". She wasn't supposed to die "on my watch". I have to learn to realize that not everything is in my control. That sometimes things happen and you honestly have zero control over the outcome.

But...  when the event you're thinking about is the death of the only person in the world that loved you unconditionally, your mind looks for answers. Why did this happen? Who is to blame? What could have been done differently? And the answer is..  there is no definitive answer. Some events happen and no matter what actions you do or don't take, that event may still happen.

Yes, I am blessed to have had Tammy in my life. Honored and so lucky that she accepted me as her husband. Blessed to have shared a love story for the ages with her. It's just that life is so freakin' hard without her by my side. 

[Gin]

It sure is the pits!  I agree.

[kayc]

14 hours ago, mittam99 said:

there is no definitive answer. Some events happen and no matter what actions you do or don't take, that event may still happen.

This stands out to me...for those who are questioning the things that happened, especially at the end.

[Gwenivere]

I've been thinking of the subject of this topic.  I can't think of a time that hindsight ever did me any good unless it was clearly obvious I had made the right decisions.  These were usually day to day little obstacles in life.  But I cannot go back to when I lost Steve and go over decisions made.  Or I should say, I won't.  I know this may be cathartic in some way to some, but all it does is make me relive a time that was so ugly and cruel I don't want to revisit it.  There is nothing I change change and any regrets I have are a moot point.  We all had our hands full dealing with the crisis at hand.  There is no way we could take in every option when time was moving at rapid pace.  We couldn't say hold in a sec and let me think this thru.  I know there are things I should have insisted were done, but I kept seeing a situation I had no exoerience with....death of someone who was more important to me than myself.  Death is ugly and cruel.  I can't block it out, but I can try and not go there.  I know this is cathartic for some of you, but it just adds to the pain of the now and offers no solace.  That is what I truly need.  Looking back are some if the bricks I want to drop from this heavy sack I drag around every day.  That's where I am.  The outcome would have been the same in my case.  Time ran out.