13 Days in Hell

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” C. S. Lewis

13 Days in Hell.

A year ago right now I was on day 9 of 13 meeting with a psychologist and a palliative care doctor after being told that the team of Neurologists caring for Larry had signed off of his care.

Days 1-8 I had been told repetitively that Larry was making improvements daily.

They lied. Now I had fear.

I am not sure why they lied. Since that time I have shown photos of his MRI that showed a bilateral stroke to his basilar artery, which is rarely recoverable and I had been told that this was as serious as it could be.

They lied. They lied for 8 days and gave me fear.

Worse yet, they let an ICU RN tell me they were signing off without having the professional courtesy to discuss their decision with me.

I cannot forgive them, and because I can’t forgive them, I resigned from a committee at the same hospital. It was necessary for my well-being.

No Filter.

Grief steals your filter. I am more honest now than I have been over the past year. I have no patience for petty issues or small talk. I curse more now, and I don’t apologize for it.

Down the road I had several meetings with doctors in this organization, and they assured me that there was a lesson in all of this. Why did Larry have to be the lesson? There is over one lesson to be learned. Can they start with the lies?

I did not receive closure on this until I pushed the envelope further. I pissed them off with my tenacity, but I needed answers and I needed resolution.

My Shock and Trauma

Sudden death is a cause of PTSD. I was already in shock; I had tremendous trauma for 8 days. On day 9 I had a second dose of PTSD when this team walked away from Larry, leaving me to honor his wishes.

Over this past year, I have been in talk therapy and deep therapy for PTSD. It has helped, yet the fear comes rushing back to me when I remember how I felt when I was told they had given up.

They lied and here I am a year later living through 13 days in Hell again.

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