Nicky11

Thank you all! I'm trying all the tips and tricks... and will keep trying.

Thank you, Marsha. "Burned in" is a perfect description. I hope the good memories start coming back soon. I've been trying to talk more about times before cancer... but it's like the details are locked away. Today is Brian's birthday... I realized something this morning, I need to lose all expectations I have of everyone. I don't mean that in a snarky way, but in an honest way. I've been so disappointed with the lack of invitations, phone calls, pop ins, etc. People say "call me any time!" but then you call and go to voicemail, or text and they respond hours later. When I need to talk, I need to talk now and being sent to voice mail is extra painful. I'd rather just not risk that hurt, so I don't reach out. I've told everyone this! I've asked that they call me when they have time, but they don't. I need to learn to be ok with that I guess. I thought for sure someone would stop over for coffee with me this morning... and when I do invite people, they're always too busy. Maybe being around me is draining. I don't know.

My husband has only been gone for a little over six months, but I did try to give his siblings something to remember him by right away. He was the youngest of nine and I haven't gotten to each of them yet, but I haven't unpacked (I had to move after his death) many of his things yet either... I know all of his things are mine now, but his siblings loved him too. So I want them to have something special. You'll know what to give them and when because it will feel right. I wont get rid of anything until I'm sure... like my husbands truck. I hate driving it, it's sitting in the driveway losing trade in value, but I'm not ready. So, there it sits and I drive it every few weeks so it doesn't just sit there and rust.

I'm right here with you. At the six and a half month mark. Finding a purpose feels close to impossible... but hopefully we all get there eventually. I used to be so on top of the news and current events, and like you I haven't cared for months. I find I do best when I completely get my brain into a project... for me it's normally crochet. This new normal sucks. (Hugs)

Thank you, Lola. I'm so sorry for all that you went through and lost. (hugs) I absolutely despise the word "fortunate" when talking about anything to do with Brian's cancer, but I'm going to break my own rule and admit I was fortunate that I was able to stay at the hospital with Brian. During that three and a half weeks, it was like the rest of the world just stopped existing... all of my focus was on Brian all of the time... and then he died. And even when the goal was just to get him off the ventilator so he could maybe possibly say goodbye... I was still shocked that he died. And there I was, alone. Not really alone, our daughters were there and our grandson, my brother, Brian's sister, a few of his Army family... but I left the hospital without my Brian. This might sound odd after everything his battle with cancer took us through, but I think leaving him (even though I know he wasn't there any more) at the hospital after he passed was the hardest thing I've ever done.

Oh Trying, I'm dreading May 13 (the day we found out his backache was cancer) to August 11... probably to August 20 (his funeral)... or August 31 (his memorial at Ft Drum). I don't know how the heck I am going to get through it. Maybe I should journal it. "A year ago today" and allow myself to relive it and process it. Everything just happened so fast. It was diagnosis, biopsy, radiation, endoscopy, MRIs, pet scan, colonoscopy, port, brain scan, dr apt after dr apt after dr apt, everything we had to do with the military apts, hospital... and then he was gone. I was also a good and loving caregiver. There isn't anything I could have done better than I did, and I guess that's a blessing that we can recognize that. And I was a good wife so no regrets there either. And he was an amazing husband. He loved being a soldier and I don't think he would have changed anything even if he had known somehow what the future held. Trying, I'm so sorry that you and your husband went through the same thing... and that he suffered so. I will never understand why such unimaginably severe pain exists. It's so cruel. Beth, it does seem like the good memories are so hard to remember. Maybe it's because the good memories are the value of what was lost... and it's not even measurable because the loss is so huge. I'm so sorry for your loss too. Thank you both for the hugs, and for listening, and for helping me when you're suffering yourselves. (hugs)

We found out my husband had metastatic cancer in his spine and t4 vertebrae 90 days before it took his life. He spent the last three and a half weeks of his life in the ICU, numerous surgeries, chest tubes, blood clots, confusion, ventilator to transport him to a cancer hospital when his only hope was chemo, and then his back broke. He suffered so much... I can't even put it to words. He writhed like he was on fire for an hour every time the nurses moved him (every four hours) and all I could do was stand by his head and tell him "I'm here. I love you." You think when someone is in the hospital, they'll control the pain, right? Oh no. It's so much more complicated than that... it's all a balancing act of blood pressure, heart rate, pain management, fluid retention, blood clots, confusion... He was so strong just six months before! He came home from a deployment to Afghanistan just six months before he passed. We were together for over 18 years and all I see, every day, over and over, is him suffering. It was horrific. I have photos all through the house! Good memory photos! But when I look at them, all I see is him suffering. How do I get that image out of my head? His last three and a half weeks just keep playing over and over and over... I passed the six month mark five days ago.

Thank you for posting this.

Oh my! I never would have thought that comments like these were so common... I kind of thought my people were a special kind of insensitive. Here are a few of mine... Between Brian passing and his funeral, I was staying at my mom's because we had his service in our hometown. My mom informs me that my aunt is taking her out for lunch for her birthday... I'm like "Oh my gosh! I completely forgot. I'm so sor... wait... your birthday isn't until the middle of next month! What are you like ten years old???" She has also told me how fortunate I am a few times. Fortunate... what, because I didn't have to move to a cardboard box? Because I gladly would if I could have my Brian back. My answer to the divorce comparison... "You're right. Divorce is worse. Brian didn't WANT to leave me." I tend to give a pass to those who mean well but just don't know what to say. I've been there! Even since Brian's passing... I don't know what to say to other newer widows. Isn't that weird? It all most feels even more difficult because asking "How are you?" the answer pops in my head like "How do you think they are!"

Hi, I'm Nicky. My husband was on a deployment to Afghanistan and returned with a backache just about a year ago. He was sent to a chiropractor, physical therapy, pain management. He was a soldier for over 20 years. Soldiers get backaches. We never thought... His doctor finally sent him for imaging and we found out on May 13th that he had a metastatic tumor on his spine. Although he had numerous tests and biopsies, his primary cancer wasn't found and we spent the last three and a half weeks of his life in the ICU. He passed on August 11, 2016. The army moved me back to our hometown. We had just purchased our house a few months before Brian passed, planning to spend a couple years fixing it up before he retired. Time is a weird thing. In a little over a week it will be six months... and it still feels like yesterday.