Tomorrow marks the five month mark since my husband's sudden and still-shocking-to-me death. We still do not have answers, and my shock is starting to give way to a small but healthy dose of outrage.
How is it possible that after five months, after over 150 days of waiting, our family still does not have closure?
How is it possible that someone like Bobbi Kristina Brown sits in a coma for nine months, but her autopsy is complete and released to the rabid public within two days? Does Bobbi Kristina's status as daughter of has-been 80's pop stars make the cause of her death so much more important than the millions of people waiting ahead of her family? (Yes, I know she died in Georgia and we are in North Carolina, but you get my point).
Something has GOT to change, and it must start with us. The "system" is obviously broken.
Chris's body was sent to the state medical examiner's office because of a serious of bad luck events. Ha! We won't go directly to the point of a 45 year old man dying suddenly at home being bad luck enough.
He was sent automatically for an autopsy because he was at home, and not under doctor's care (ie, healthy) and still considered young by death's standards. It happened late at night, so the Davidson County NC office was already closed. And, even though a regional medical examiner's office was not more than 6 miles from us, because we literally lived 2/10th of a mile within the Davidson County border, the jurisdiction became Raleigh.
All of this leads to the perfect storm of Chris being sent to the slowest, most backlogged, understaffed, and under apologetic medical staff in the state.
On the day after his death, I was told that the autopsy results would take about 8 weeks, or 12 at the most. That was before our funeral director realized he had been sent to Raleigh, where the timeline immediately became "at least 3 months". After three months, the timeline was modified to "up to six months". The last time I spoke with someone, I was told it could be 8 months.
I am seriously concerned that I should be preparing for a battle.
I simply want answers. I desperately NEED answers. I know most people can understand this on a surface level, but the woman I used to be...the woman who tried her best to save her husband's life on May 20th, 2015 needs to know that she did all she could. I need some form of closure from the worst 15 minutes of my life. I need to know that (please God) it was not preventable. I need to know it's not something genetic that I need to think about for my kids.
Tell me why my needs are falling to the bottom of a stack of paperwork on the chief medical examiner's desk?
Monday, October 19, 2015
Thursday, October 8, 2015
The End of Off Season
Gabriel and I are watching the Carolina Hurricanes season opener tonight. This is a day we've both dreaded. I cannot see hockey, think about hockey, or hear the word hockey without thinking about Chris.
The last time I watched hockey, Chris died. We were watching the Stanley Cup playoffs when he collapsed.
I have survived an off season.
It still remains to be seen if Gabriel can once again love the sport that he shared with his dad. I myself cannot even ice skate, and we've moved 1.5 hours away from the nearest ice rink. Likely, Gabriel won't be playing hockey again for at least a year or so. We are thinking about starting our own roller hockey league here in the grand 'ole Mayberry. After all, I've always had dreams of being a roller derby girl and Gabriel is an ace on skates. A natural.
Chris and I bought Gabriel some really great skates and pads for his birthday. I will never forget wrapping those skates in the floor at 4:00am in the morning after Chris had died 5 hours earlier.
Anyway, happy hockey season Chris. I hope the ice is always fresh, the skates are always broken in, and the goals are plentiful where you are resting. We will never forget you.
The last time I watched hockey, Chris died. We were watching the Stanley Cup playoffs when he collapsed.
I have survived an off season.
It still remains to be seen if Gabriel can once again love the sport that he shared with his dad. I myself cannot even ice skate, and we've moved 1.5 hours away from the nearest ice rink. Likely, Gabriel won't be playing hockey again for at least a year or so. We are thinking about starting our own roller hockey league here in the grand 'ole Mayberry. After all, I've always had dreams of being a roller derby girl and Gabriel is an ace on skates. A natural.
Chris and I bought Gabriel some really great skates and pads for his birthday. I will never forget wrapping those skates in the floor at 4:00am in the morning after Chris had died 5 hours earlier.
Anyway, happy hockey season Chris. I hope the ice is always fresh, the skates are always broken in, and the goals are plentiful where you are resting. We will never forget you.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Rainy Days and Sundays
It's been raining in North Carolina for about two weeks now. I don't know if it's the weather or just the phase of grief that I'm in, but I'm really freaking depressed today.
Sundays have really gotten the best of me this fall. Chris loved football, and we devotedly watched the NFL games on TV. Today was "the big game" for us each season, the Panthers vs. Buccaneers. Even though he became a North Carolinian in 2003, Chris maintained his loyalty to the Bucs, who hailed from his parents home state of Florida. Like usual for the past few years, the Bucs are terrible. And I had no one to gloat over it with. Even watching the game put a pall of gloom over the household today. His absence was almost palpable in this quiet, quiet house.
In my quest to constantly stay busy, I baked a cake, attempted to make Chris's spaghetti and meatballs recipe (failed miserably) cleaned my kitchen, played football with Gabriel, and worked out for over an hour. I am physically exhausted, but still cannot stay busy enough to keep the sad thoughts away.
I miss him so much. I've gotten into a steady routine these days, but the loneliness wraps itself around me like a blanket at all times. I don't know what I'm looking for to help....I'm literally surrounded by people 24/7, so it's not literal loneliness, but just that yearning for adult partnership.
I hate Sundays. And not even because it means the end of another weekend and the preparation for another 5 days of getting up at ungodly hours. I miss our routine. I miss the rhythm of life we'd developed and perfected over the years. I miss my past life, the one I didn't choose to let go of.
Sundays have really gotten the best of me this fall. Chris loved football, and we devotedly watched the NFL games on TV. Today was "the big game" for us each season, the Panthers vs. Buccaneers. Even though he became a North Carolinian in 2003, Chris maintained his loyalty to the Bucs, who hailed from his parents home state of Florida. Like usual for the past few years, the Bucs are terrible. And I had no one to gloat over it with. Even watching the game put a pall of gloom over the household today. His absence was almost palpable in this quiet, quiet house.
In my quest to constantly stay busy, I baked a cake, attempted to make Chris's spaghetti and meatballs recipe (failed miserably) cleaned my kitchen, played football with Gabriel, and worked out for over an hour. I am physically exhausted, but still cannot stay busy enough to keep the sad thoughts away.
I miss him so much. I've gotten into a steady routine these days, but the loneliness wraps itself around me like a blanket at all times. I don't know what I'm looking for to help....I'm literally surrounded by people 24/7, so it's not literal loneliness, but just that yearning for adult partnership.
I hate Sundays. And not even because it means the end of another weekend and the preparation for another 5 days of getting up at ungodly hours. I miss our routine. I miss the rhythm of life we'd developed and perfected over the years. I miss my past life, the one I didn't choose to let go of.
Friday, October 2, 2015
I'm no Sheryl Sandburg.
This week was my ultimate road warrior test and I survived. Four states in three days, several business meetings, and back home to the kids that I am constantly in fear of neglecting.
Balancing this shit is a job in itself. I don't think I've ever given single moms enough credit. Many people have sent me articles about Sheryl Sandburg in the past few months, feeling as if I might relate to the journey she is traveling that is very similar to my own.
You know what? Sheryl Sandburg makes me feel like a failure on all fronts. Within a couple of months of her husband's passing, Sheryl was jetting off to China and being fabulous. I am in awe of how she has picked up the pieces of life and seems to be back on track with her life's mission of saving the world through her brilliance and power with Facebook.
Sometimes I wonder if her money helps makes things easier. Does she have to wake up at 4:45 each morning to scuttle her children off with their grandparents for the morning? Does she have to rely on her dad or sister to make sure her children do their homework? Does she drag herself home at 7:00 every night and resort to mac and cheese for dinner because she's so exhausted? Or does she have an immense team of nannies, butlers, housekeepers, etc. who is making this bullshit called widowhood more survivable?
Do Sheryl's kids cry themselves to sleep over the phone when she's on these business trips? Does she feel like life is a constant battle of letting someone down and having to choose who that person will be on any given day?
I'm sure Sheryl Sandburg is fighting her own battle, so I don't judge her on how well she seems to be doing in public. One thing all of us widows have in common is the ability to fake the hell out of life. But I cannot help but think that I'm getting this all wrong some days.
Balancing this shit is a job in itself. I don't think I've ever given single moms enough credit. Many people have sent me articles about Sheryl Sandburg in the past few months, feeling as if I might relate to the journey she is traveling that is very similar to my own.
You know what? Sheryl Sandburg makes me feel like a failure on all fronts. Within a couple of months of her husband's passing, Sheryl was jetting off to China and being fabulous. I am in awe of how she has picked up the pieces of life and seems to be back on track with her life's mission of saving the world through her brilliance and power with Facebook.
Sometimes I wonder if her money helps makes things easier. Does she have to wake up at 4:45 each morning to scuttle her children off with their grandparents for the morning? Does she have to rely on her dad or sister to make sure her children do their homework? Does she drag herself home at 7:00 every night and resort to mac and cheese for dinner because she's so exhausted? Or does she have an immense team of nannies, butlers, housekeepers, etc. who is making this bullshit called widowhood more survivable?
Do Sheryl's kids cry themselves to sleep over the phone when she's on these business trips? Does she feel like life is a constant battle of letting someone down and having to choose who that person will be on any given day?
I'm sure Sheryl Sandburg is fighting her own battle, so I don't judge her on how well she seems to be doing in public. One thing all of us widows have in common is the ability to fake the hell out of life. But I cannot help but think that I'm getting this all wrong some days.
Monday, September 28, 2015
Fight or Flight
Things are not going so well these days. I am in a constant internal battle of fight or flight. Every single thing feels like a battle and I'm almost out of the ability to fight anymore.
Fight. Fighting for my voice. Fighting for my kids....fighting WITH my kids. Sophie is having some behavior problems at school, and her response is "my life completely sucks mom, this is the best I can do". Boy do I feel this statement all the way to the bone. She is right too. Life does suck right now. Surviving this storm = success to us. I don't want the loss of her dad to be a crutch in life, but the poor girl needs some leeway.
Fight. Gabriel still has a lot of anger that he's working through. We were doing well for several weeks, but his "Hulk Smash" mode comes out when he's overtired, which seems to be constant these days. Now that I'm traveling for work again, he is pretty distraught with abandonment fears.
I cannot even imagine what the kids are going through. I know my loss sense of loss is breath taking and profound at times, but they have that extra layer of losing their innocence, their security, and not being fully aware of how profound and life changing this will be, for now and forever.
Flight. We've decided (in daydreams) that we'd like to move to London. Gabriel wants to ride in double decker buses and get a new accent. Sophie wants to meet Sam Smith and be his straight girl best friend. This seems like a legitimate life goal for me sometimes, even though it's ridiculously impractical. For now, we'll stay here in Mount Airy, our original "flight plan".
Flight. I'm hopping on another plane tomorrow for a three day business trip. This is my second trip in as many weeks, and I feel like everyone sometimes forgets how hard it is to juggle everything now. What used to be a normal morning flight now requires me to get up at 3:00am, secure child care, and fill out paperwork three days in advance. What used to be a normal trip now provides me with several days of anxiety both before and during the length of the trip. I am hoping this lessens with time, but it almost overwhelms me right now.
This is such a morose post. Maybe it's just the nonstop rain that's got me down. Maybe my exhaustion is catching up with me. Or possibly I've hit that stage of grief called depression. Any way I look at it, I need a break.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Random.
Dear Chris,
There are so many little ways that I miss you. Sunday was really hard for me, because it was opening weekend for the NFL. A tradition we looked forward to and spent together for the last 12 years. I missed trash talking about your Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Their new uniforms are pretty epic, but they still sucked. You would have been in a pretty bad mood over that game. Instead, it was a blurb across the screen for me. I didn't have the heart to stream it....little, mundane things like that are still unspeakable in a way that nobody around me can understand.
Speaking of football, you'd be so proud of Gabriel. He's working hard and listening to the coaches, just like you taught him. He has lost his first two teeth since you've been gone. I am still too squeamish to pull them. This is hopefully something I'll learn as time goes on.
Sophie's birthday is coming up this weekend and we cannot get comfortable with the idea of celebrating without you. I miss having you to talk to about that day she was born. How you left the hospital to take a nap because you thought my labor was too slow, and when you came back I was a raging ball of misery. How we took Sophie to the beach in Charleston when she was just a few days old and I was afraid we'd drop her in the ocean.
Sophie doesn't want a party, but I think it's an important step for all of us. Of course we don't feel festive, but I don't think is how you'd want us to act. We can't feel guilty for the bits of joy we are trying to find again.
I keep changing things about myself and I wonder what you'd think. You'd hate my bangs....they were never your "thing" (even though you used to tell me that my forehead was almost as big as Peyton Manning's). I don't think you'd care for the blonde highlights, but you'd understand.....my hair turns red when I'm stressed out, and I just couldn't stand it anymore.
We miss you babe. Sometimes I feel your presence, but I wish it was around a bit more. I feel pretty lost and alone without you. It's amazing how alone you feel even when there are so many people around. Take care of us.
Amy
There are so many little ways that I miss you. Sunday was really hard for me, because it was opening weekend for the NFL. A tradition we looked forward to and spent together for the last 12 years. I missed trash talking about your Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Their new uniforms are pretty epic, but they still sucked. You would have been in a pretty bad mood over that game. Instead, it was a blurb across the screen for me. I didn't have the heart to stream it....little, mundane things like that are still unspeakable in a way that nobody around me can understand.
Speaking of football, you'd be so proud of Gabriel. He's working hard and listening to the coaches, just like you taught him. He has lost his first two teeth since you've been gone. I am still too squeamish to pull them. This is hopefully something I'll learn as time goes on.
Sophie's birthday is coming up this weekend and we cannot get comfortable with the idea of celebrating without you. I miss having you to talk to about that day she was born. How you left the hospital to take a nap because you thought my labor was too slow, and when you came back I was a raging ball of misery. How we took Sophie to the beach in Charleston when she was just a few days old and I was afraid we'd drop her in the ocean.
Sophie doesn't want a party, but I think it's an important step for all of us. Of course we don't feel festive, but I don't think is how you'd want us to act. We can't feel guilty for the bits of joy we are trying to find again.
I keep changing things about myself and I wonder what you'd think. You'd hate my bangs....they were never your "thing" (even though you used to tell me that my forehead was almost as big as Peyton Manning's). I don't think you'd care for the blonde highlights, but you'd understand.....my hair turns red when I'm stressed out, and I just couldn't stand it anymore.
We miss you babe. Sometimes I feel your presence, but I wish it was around a bit more. I feel pretty lost and alone without you. It's amazing how alone you feel even when there are so many people around. Take care of us.
Amy
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Working Mom Woes
Before this massive life changing gut punch, I was a very hard-working mom who worked outside the home. Many people didn't know then, but most know now, that Chris left his job several years ago in order to focus more time on the kids while I pursued my career goals. Back in 2011, this was pretty ground breaking, but more and more dads are becoming the "at home" parent these days. It was fantastic for us - I traveled quite a bit, and the kids were able to maintain after school activities that they would not have otherwise been able to do.
In addition to the grief, sadness, and pain, we are also learning to adjust to me being the sole parent. This has been one of the hardest adjustments. For the first time in my life, I have to plan my schedule around school holidays, find before and after school care (thank you again to my wonderful family), as well as do homework, pack lunches, etc. My typical day is this: wake up at 4:45, shower and get dressed, pack lunches, wake kids at 5:45, leave home by 6:15, arrive at work by 7:15, get off work at 5:15, home at 6:30, dinner, homework, showers, family time, and in bed by 9:00 for the kids. The sliver of time between 9:00-10:00 is the precious amount of time that I have for exercise (I wish), meditation, or active grieving. These are on days that I'm lucky enough to get the kids to bed and sleeping at a decent hour. Add in two days per week for a 2-hour football practice, and it's easy to see why I'm always completely exhausted.
My work family has been incredibly accommodating and I've managed to avoid travel for work up until this point. However, that all ends later in September with two consecutive weeks of overnight travel that will take me to Atlanta and Wisconsin.
I've really been dreading the first overnight trip. My last trip was just days before Chris passed away, and I've been obsessing a bit over the "what ifs". However, I think WE are ready. The kids need to see that some things in life have to get back to normal, and one of our normals is that mom is a full time marketing professional who has drive, ambition, and is pretty successful in that aspect of her life.
I am thankful for Skype and living near family. And while I feel sure the kids will be OK without me for a few nights, we will still take any prayers you want to send our way to make this next adjustment a smooth one!
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