Depression, Guilt, Husband's slow horrible death.

Right off the bat, my husband LOVED life, loved music more than anyone I had ever known, he was a multi-talented musician (drums, guitar, flute, keyboards, singer), an avid and very, very good golfer, insane and infectious sense of humor, loved science and nature, worked hard all his life.

I fell in love with him the moment I saw him and I was on a date with another man. I knew he was the man I was going to marry. This was over 22 years ago. 6ft. 5, slender, handsome, strong, deep sexy voice, funny/really funny, super smart, intuitive, talented, great cook, could fix or figure out how to fix anything, considerate, sweet, great lover...a real man!

Back to how he ended up 22 years later. He's been dead 6 months.

A doctor got him on the addictive pain pills for his mysterious non-nondescript "muscle disease". That's when the pill and pain roller coaster went into high gear.

He suffered so long. It started with 5 major eye surgeries. Retinal detachment on one eye then the other.(and pain meds which included NSAIDS - Kidney killers: http://www.kidney.org/atoz/content/painMeds_Analgesics.cfm)

When it started getting really bad the last 2 !/2 year, many times he would tell me to go ahead and leave him, go find a boyfriend, his life was over, he would wake up in so much pain and be depressed and mad because, quoting him "Why do I keep waking up? God please...Let me die, enough! Enough!"....told me he could feel his body dying.

He would be sitting in his recliner and constantly lean over and hold his head in his hands and say "This is so surreal! I never thought I would die this young. You have no idea. I'm dying, I know I'm dying. I can feel it."

I would beg him to go to another doctor. He said it's too late. It's over. He was mad at the doctors. He knew they did not know what was really wrong with him. Oh GOD! My heart is so broken. I can't stand thinking about how much he suffered. My sweet baby!!!

Near the end he got to where he would push me away. He didn't want me to touch him. All I wanted to do was hold him, ya know? I didn't know what else to do.

Till the last Saturday he was home. That last Saturday morning I was in another room and I heard him mumble, "I just need to accept it....... I'm dying."

I quickly went to him and said, "No your not! Let's go to the hospital right now, please? A new doctor might be able to help you."

He said, "No, **** the doctors! They'll just tell me to go home and take it easy like they always do. They don't give a ****!"

The rest of that last Saturday was a strange day. He was still sick but calmer, I tried to make things feel lighter, ya know. I sensed something final was happening and I wanted to make it as non-stressful as possible...we watched silly comedy movies together, we both had a few drinks (why not!), we made love for the very last time. He told me he wanted to "be with me one last time".

When he said that, I knew, Oh God...I knew, I knew...it was really going to be the last time. I cried while in his arms and said "Don't you dare die on me. We have years left to spend together!" He said, "I don't want to die either. You're my goddess. You've always been a goddess to me my love. I love you so much. I always have."

I begged him to forgive me for the times I yelled at him or any fights we had ever gotten in. He said, "All's forgiven. All is forgiven. Don't worry. I love you no matter what." He held me and kissed me with tears in his eyes.

Very, very early the following Monday morning I awoke hearing his car pull out of the driveway. I did not know where he was going. Freaked me out! It took me 2 hours to find him. He had checked himself into a hospital. Did not tell me, he just left that morning. He hadn't eaten in almost 2 weeks so he was probably out of his mind. It's a miracle he made it to hospital without getting in a wreck. My poor, sweet baby!

Of course I would not leave him. I love him and would never leave him. He did not want me to see him die. He was soooo miserable the last 2 1/2 years of his life (he was barely 57 when he died) The doctors misdiagnosed him, long story. Drs. kept telling him to go home and take it easy.

They kept prescribing him pain pills and sent him to a pain clinic. All the meds had NSAIDS in them which are horrible for your kidneys and he had had mild kidney problems most of his adult life as a result of his devout, Catholic church going mother BEATING with a BELT across his back when he was a child.

(Rhabdomyolysis-I figured this out after he died. He told me since the day we met that his mother use to whip him across the back till he got big enough to take the belt away from her. I did not put 2 and 2 together till after he died because I believed the drs., I also thought he had a mysterious generic "muscle disease" till I saw his death certificate stating he died of kidney failure)

Of course he built up a tolerance to the pain pills and had to take more. He would end up going thru them in 2 weeks instead of 4. He couldn't help it. Hydrocodone is basically Synthetic Heroin! Extremely addictive!!! So he would go thru withdrawal for the last 2 weeks of each month. One script per month only. Then the doctor at the pain clinic retired, a new doctor took over and HE cut him off cold turkey because he was taking them all before the scrip was due to be refilled.

The new dr. cut him off cold turkey after the pain clinic had him on them for 2 years!

All his adult life, whenever he was physically super stressed or sick his muscle cramps, blood in his urine got worse. So withdrawal put all these symptoms off the charts, the muscle cramps, weakness, blood instead of urine. Before they put him on the pain pills, he could just take a long hot bath, sit down for a couple hours and it would help, he would bounce back.

He got sicker and sicker, he was urinating blood, could not eat, could not stand or walk for more than a few moments, could not stand the smell of food, hot and cold flashes, couldn't sleep,...these symptoms got exponentially worse when the doctors cut him off cold turkey. This was wayyyyy past withdrawal.

It was a vicious cycle. Damaged kidney, pain meds for "muscle disease", withdrawal, stress, pain, pain meds for "muscle disease", kidney damage worse from NSAIDS, pain, pain meds for "muscle disease", withdrawal, stress, etc.

By the time he went to the hospital that Monday he had not eaten in almost 2 weeks. He couldn't eat in the hospital. They put a catheter in him, put him on more pain meds, he wanted to come home, they wouldn't let him cuz he was too medicated, he ripped out his catheter which tore up his, ya know, and there was blood everywhere. (did you know there is a little balloon the size of a quarter at the end of the catheter to hold it in the bladder...YEP, he ripped that out! That is how drugged up they had him. He want it out and he wanted to come home!) so they TIED him down/wrists and ankles and put "Mitts" on his hands. He looked so pitiful. He kept looking at me and yelling, why are you letting them do this to me?!?!? Take me home!!! I WANT TO GO HOME! He screamed "911, 911, 911, call the police. I have the right to refuse medical treatment!!!"

The nurses smirked and said, "No you don't sir. You're a danger to yourself and others. You are too medicated"

He was so very angry. I was mad a hell to. If it had been me he would have scooped me up and carried me out of the hospital. I feel so guilty!!! I didn't know what to do. I kept telling him, "They're trying to help you, pookie! They know what they are doing. I can't take you home. They won't let me. I can't do anything."

I was so afraid if I raised cain with them they'd call the cops or have me banned from the room. I felt so helpless!

It was a nightmare. He screamed and begged me to take him home but the hospital wouldn't let me. He looke at me like I was helping them torture him....he scowled at me. He was so mad. He said, "I'm sicker here than I was at home. TAKE ME HOME!!!"

Oh GOD! I wanted to more than anything. They wouldn't let me.

A couple days later he ended up in the CCU where he had constant care (1 nurse for 2 patients instead of one nurse for 20 patients), with a feeding tube and on dialysis.

They only kept him there for 3 days and nights and then they sent him to the pulmonary floor (NOT a CCU unit, back to 1 nurse for 20 patients). He was still fully restrained/wrists, ankles and mitts and on a morphine drip/heavily medicated.

HE CHOKED on his own vomit.

Since he was restrained and doped up he could not press the "Nurse" button or even call out, could not even roll over, still tubes down his throat.

My soul mate, my sweetheart, my precious, loving man died all alone, choked to death. I was not there when he died. He died ALL alone at 2am. His kidneys shut down and all these years the doctors said he had a "muscle disease"! It was his kidneys!!! The very medicine they had prescribed finished off his kidneys.

The whole time!!! And these morons were prescribing him addictive, kidney killing pain killers with NSAIDS in the ingredients.

We live an hour and a half from the hospital. When they took him out of the CCU I thought he was getting better! I went home to put the dog out and feed the other animals. I had to take care of that, there was no one else to do it.

I laid down to take a nap, the phone rang at 2am and they said he was not responding......THE END. He was dead.

I feel so guilty. I cry every single day, many times. 22 years and then he was gone forever.

Oh yeah, I had to deal with his crazy mother while he was in there! She's a trip. That's a whole nother ball of wax. Let me put it this way....I no longer speak to her.

She is out of my life. Phoney, fake, 2 faced, lying you know what! She showed her true colors when her son got sick. She hated me from the get go.

He did not even want her at the hospital but he was to sick to make her leave. He begged me to get her out of his room. She refused and told me "Your not the boss of me!".

He hated his mother. He told me all the time how he felt about her. She is the eternal "martyr". She made his illness all about her when she was in the hospital. I won't go into it...well ok...I will - she even made the nurses roll their eyes and the drs. had to ask her to be quite on many occasions when they were trying to talk to my husband or me.

It was bizarre how she acted. She does not have dementia or Alzheimer's either, she knows exactly what she is doing and saying. She's bossy, narcissistic, self righteous and stubborn. Unbelievable how she acted.

She wanted all the attention, constantly interrupted the doctors and nurses, wanted her blood pressure taken when they took his, bragged about getting one free hospital meal a day when she stayed with him, she used his beside potty (to go number one AND number two)...

in other words, the nurses and staff had to clean up after her pees and poos and feed her and she worried the staff like crazy. Meanwhile I am watching my husband suffer and die and she wanted all the attention. Arrrrggggh!

It has been 6 months since my love died and I feel like it was yesterday every day. The pain is not fading, the crying happens daily and nightly, I can barely eat, so depressed, can't sleep more than 2-3 hours at a time. Then I have no energy during the day.

I used to be a fun person. I used to play music. I use to do my art. I used write. Now I'm just so depressed I haven't the energy.

I feel guilty if I even feel happy or smile. He suffered so much. I should have saved him. I should have done more.

I used to be social. Now I stay home because I cry so easy. I am not fun to be around anymore. Too depressed. Cry to easy. It's embarrassing for me and makes others uncomfortable.

Everything reminds me of him. He was my whole world. We built this house together, so he is everywhere in our home. Everywhere I go, memories of him are there, every street, every store, every restaurant, every park, every tv show, every movie, every song, every rain shower, every snowfall, every sunrise and sunset, everything. :****(

p.s. I am broke. No money, no job...couldn't hold one now cuz of my state of mind, even if I could find one at my age. I have called many attorneys. I don't have the money to take any of the drs/hospital to court. Hospitals and doctors have an army of lawyers to fight for them. That is basically what all the law offices told me. So, don't buy into all these commercials that say they'll fight for you, yeah, they'll "fight" for you if it's a class action suit or a "shoe in/easy to win" case. Most law offices told me "I am so sorry for your loss but Unless you got a boat load of money, you don't have a chance against an army of hospital attorneys, sorry."

Source: http://grief.supportgroups.com/sg/grief/depression-guilt-husbands-slow-horrible-death

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