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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 8 of 8. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by RoseyReel on October 14, 2004, at 13:03:44
I am new here, so please bear with me.
I met my son Ed, on the day of his birth, August 13, 1977. He was a quietly contemplative, good natured, healthy child, who willingly took the blame for his older siblings mishaps in good stride. He was the baby. He died suddenly on August 26, 2004.
I was greeted by police officers at my door at 3:30 am that morning with the news of his sudden death. After talking with my oldest son, Dave (from the hospital) who was living with him, I was told he found Ed on the bathroom floor of his house. His home was close to the hospital, and the ambulance had arrived in a matter of 6 minutes, but there was no help for him.I later found out from the ME's Office, that he had been a victim of SARCOIDOSIS, another one of those immune difficiency diseases they know nothing about. My research led me to wonder how he could possibly have walked around and functioned as normally as he did with so few symptoms--then simply drop dead to the floor. His only symptoms were a mild flue or cold and a dry cough he could not rid himself of for which he was treated and subsided. Had the disease not entered his heart, he would still be with us today. (Knowing he would not have been happy to experience life dependent on medications and aspirators doesn't help--and I know that thought is selfish of me.)
I went through the "blame thing" trying in vane to find someone to blame, researching medications, treatment or lack thereof, given him during his recent Dr. visit, but there is none and I am past that now.
I try to understand, but of course, there is none of that either--other than to know that for everyone, with life there is a journey toward death at the time of its' choice.
I have never felt such enormous and continuous grief though, I am now experiencing a good day here and there. And yet, knowing that after any day's respite, a river of unstoppable tears will follow the next--like a black tide whose dam has broken, and continues quietly running throughout every chore or task I endeavor. I can only go to sleep when exhausted, and arise from bed in the morning in a hurry--to fill my mind before it begins to obsess. This after 5-6 hours sleep. Still, I try to stay busy, distracted, though there seem to be many tasks I find myself unable to make myself do. Some are important, and I keep procrastinating until "tomorrow".
Knowing other mothers who have lost children, the phrase "I don't know what I would do if I ever lost one of my own" has hit home hard. I will not take tranquilizers or anti-depressants. I know they will only fog and delay my emotions for the grieving I must experience and the reality I must face. Eventually, in time, I know there will be more good days than bad, and that I will be able to remember him and speak his name without the constant flow of tears.
I know he will never again drop by from work on his lunch break with a hug, just to say "HI"; he will never again call me to tell me about some new electronic marvel he just bought; he will never again bring his camp gear to show me and belie my fears of his extreme weather trips; he will never again show me pictures of his recent camping venture taken with his new camera.
He had just turned from 26 to 27, his birthday having been on Friday, the 13th of August. (the math is eerie). Almost 200 people showed for his viewing--I never new how many friends he had made and kept in his too short life. His best friend said "No one ever didn't like Ed, he was the glue that held us all together".
His best friend through school who recently had become his new roommate will be moving back to New York. His pets have been taken in by friends. His brother, who was living with him, is now residing with his sister. His house will be sold and his possessions split among family and friends. A ripple effect has taken place with his loss affecting all the lives he graciously and gently touched.
Memories are beginning to flood me now-- I am 53 and I feel the need coming on to keep a journal to refer to as I age. (My own mother is becoming forgetful and I want to keep memories of my children available, just in case.)
For his 28th birthday, his ashes will be carried by the wind from the mountain of his last and favorite camping venture. I will not attend, as my knees won't take the hike to the Virginia mountain top.
I could go to hospice for help in this grieving process, but regardless of shared sufferings, I know that my grief is something I alone own. It is a natural process experienced in a personal way. There are no answeres. I cannot make a "trade" for the rapist or murderer who has never been caught--and as much as I would trade my life for his--I know there's no new deal to be made. The deal is done.
I know he is in a gentler, safer place, without his stressors, sorrows and anxieties. I know I will meet my Ed again at the proper time.
To write here is a haven and safe harbor of sharing---God bless everyone.
Posted by partlycloudy on October 14, 2004, at 16:43:02
In reply to My son died suddenly on August 26, 2004, posted by RoseyReel on October 14, 2004, at 13:03:44
(((RoseyReel)) you have expressed your grief so exquisitely. I am so sorry for the loss of your son. I'm, glad you found this place to express yourself; you are very brave.
Posted by saw on October 15, 2004, at 3:14:36
In reply to Re: My son died suddenly on August 26, 2004, posted by partlycloudy on October 14, 2004, at 16:43:02
Thank you for sharing your pain with us. You expressed yourself beautifully and I was weeping for you by the end of your post.
Please continue to share with us and we will reach out and be of support in whatever way we can.
Sabrina
Posted by RoseyReel on October 15, 2004, at 7:56:07
In reply to Re: My son died suddenly on August 26, 2004 » RoseyReel, posted by RoseyReel on October 15, 2004, at 7:50:36
Thank you for your heartfelt response. I have found that the grief from the loss of a child is like that of no other loss.
With the loss of a child, GRIEF comes complete with a 100% no exchange, non-refundable guarantee to be refreshed and renewable daily.
Posted by RoseyReel on October 15, 2004, at 14:20:57
In reply to My son died suddenly on August 26, 2004, posted by RoseyReel on October 14, 2004, at 13:03:44
Over the past 6 months, before my son's death on 8/26, I had begun the art of "reborning" dolls. It is quite a lengthy process and involves patient practice and I had finally approached artist level and decided to begin selling them. I still love doing it, but I seem to reach a certain level of completion on any project and cannot bring myself to follow through.
I am definitley in a cloud here that restricts my view to the end of the path. I have myself under pressure to complete projects for the holiday season which is now uppon me, in order to begin recouping my expenses.
Not to mention not being able to function well in other areas. I knew that the the worst would come after my son's viewing and all the business and preparation it entailed. However, I now often feel absolutely immobile.
Though I am past "blame" and have reached acceptance of his death, I seem quite stuck in this useless inability to perform routine tasks that do not require absolute concentration.
I am thinking that it may have something to do with avoiding normalcy and need a way around this.
Any advice on dealing with my loss of functionality? (Is that a word?)
Posted by mopey on October 19, 2004, at 15:52:45
In reply to Re: Just can't follow through!, posted by RoseyReel on October 15, 2004, at 14:20:57
I'm sorry that you lost your son. My sister died suddenly four days after he did. She was 38 and has a daughter who's 20 and a son who's almost 4 yrs old.
I know what you mean about not completing things. I'm finding it so hard to concentrate on work, and am also avoiding writing notes to family and friends.
While I understand the problem, I'm afraid I don't have any answers, or at least don't have any yet.
I feel as though I go into a different stage of sadness each week, so I'm hoping that gradually mundane things will once more hold my attention.
Right now nothing seems very important.Keep writing! We're all in this together and can at least share moral support.
Take care
Posted by RoseyReel on October 20, 2004, at 15:18:46
In reply to Re: Just can't follow through!, posted by mopey on October 19, 2004, at 15:52:45
FOR MOPEY----Thank you so much for your response. I'm so grateful for the emotional support here which really helps me through the grief process--I'm so thankful for all of the understanding.
I'm so, so very sorry for your loss and grief and the children must be so very devistated; and especially so for her 20 year old daughter, bless her heart. I know that even with the expected death of a loved one experiencing a lengthy illness, the grief of loss is the same. But I've found the experience of losing someone in a sudden death carries with it an additional "shock factor". Even though I know the cause, the "why", which we are not privy to know, is always there and I still re-experience the feelings of shock that my youngest son is no longer with me. It is intensified by the fact that he was the one of my three that I could always depend on at a moments notice. I still relive in my mind the early morning visit from the sheriff's department and try to keep my mind occupied with handwork, TV, hobbies---anything to keep my thought processes on something else. But, intermittently seeping in, will be that "shock factor", like an added bonus. My rule of thumb these days is go to bed when exhausted and when waking, get up quickly to fill my mind and avoid overthinking.
As to following through, I'm glad that it isn't a "just me" thing. And as to the notes to family and friends, I'm having the same problem sending out the follow-up notes to people who attended the viewing. The amazing thing is that the following day, after his 2-day viewing, I sat down and addressed envelopes and signed cards for alot of the people who attended and ran out of cards. Then, got no further with finishing the rest I had purchased or even posting any of them. I think at the time, confronting it so soon was a "knee-jerk" reaction and now I can't seem to face it at all--almost two months later. I suppose pretty soon it will be really too late to worry about it. I can only remember once having received follow-up notes on my appearances to viewings---this is surely the reason why. At any rate, I think people must surely understand what an emotional undertaking it is.
I have yet to receive any paperwork from the Medical Examiner's office so I can even have myself appointed Executor to access and deal with any of his holdings--life insurance, bank account, etc., that will pay for his final expenses, so cannot attain any closure to activities surrounding his death. All of that hinges on their receiving final blood test results to issue the death certificate. They are not slow, but it is a big city and they are overwhelmed--I feel lucky that the M.E. was so understanding in letting me know personally the founded cause of death prior to the legal finding. That did, at least, give me closure as to the cause of his death.
I wish you all well and my heart is with you and the children. They are fortunate to have you with them. God Bless.
Posted by Crazy_Charlie on November 4, 2004, at 6:58:26
In reply to My son died suddenly on August 26, 2004, posted by RoseyReel on October 14, 2004, at 13:03:44
When you loose your child, the grief is beyond everything that can be labeled selfish. It is too big to have such a label on it...
When you give birth to your child, you have this expectation in your head that you will go first. This is not something one talk about, but the normal working of the nature is that the old die an dthe young live to get old. Usually parents die before their kids, that is how a normal situation would be. This is what we expect in our hearts and in our minds.
No one should blame you if you can't accept that your son is gone. And you shouldn't feel selfish for wanting him to survive even if that meant a constraint living situation. You are only a human, you are only a parent that lost your baby. I wish you peace and happiness in times to floow. Allow yourself to grieve, it's the body's way of coping with the unbelievable.
This is the end of the thread.
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