It has been more than a month since I last posted anything. How time flies! I find myself dissatisfied with progress in resolving my grief, and, to that end, have ordered a book of additional strategies to help me progress.
But let's go back to December. My surgery at Mayo's took place on December 17th, and went very smoothly and painlessly. The result seems to have been good, since, for the moment, I am now not needing any blood pressure medicine at all. My BP is running in the 135/85 range without medications. I seemed to be behind the eight ball all Christmas, and just had no energy or drive to get anything going, or to feel good. I was, in fact, clinically depressed. But I do not want to go on antidepressants again.and go through the effort of getting off them again. That is a pain!
Was Christmas simply an effort in denial? Perhaps. but it was also an effort to show we can and will live again. even without Di. Having had absolute trust in Di, (founded on 52 years of living together), it now is more difficult, even impossible, to find that sort of trust in other people.I probably will never have that sort of feeling about another person. Don't feel like writing any more tonight Will write again tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Monday, December 6, 2010
Up coming stenting of renal artery
This is a procedure that I look forward to with no little apprehension. Its indication, on present evidence is that my right renal artery is becoming choked off, with atheroma, (or post atherosclerotic fibrosis), at its origin from the aorta. If there is no sort of intervention, then it is very likely that it will infarct my right kidney. i;e the kidney will die of lack of arterial blood supply.
The risks of doing it include a significant mortality rate of at least 2-3 percent, plus the risk of showers of little bits of atheroma breaking off and damaging the more distant blood supply of the kidney, necessitating dialysis. Research papers are all over the place on this issue. Some say categorically "There is no clear indication for stenting! (including one author from the Mayo Clinic), over aggressive medical treatment with statins and hypotensive drugs" Others say"Maybe there are some exceptions when the stenosis is greater that 75 per cent." Most papers say that their samples were not large enough to give a definitive answer as to whether there is an advantage to stenting or not. So, I guess I will wait for the U/S studies to be repeated at Mayo's and see what they tell us, and then talk turkey with the Vascular guy and the radiologist. One paper I read today said that hypertension does not occur until the stenosis is greater than 75 percent. since I already have significant hypertension, needing two drugs to control it, then, I guess, it must be greater than 75 %. So, I will take myself up there, to a place and doctors I trust, and make the best decision I can, and go with it.
Since I am getting a little frazzled over all this, I will see the Clinical Psychologist also this week, to see if he can help me see the wood through the trees. It would so help to have Di to talk to. But in the end, she would not be able to do anything but say. "This is a decision you will have to make yourself, and live with the consequences of the decision." And that is the way it should be. So, I leave you , tonight, in deep doubt, and not a little confusion. Peace and love to all. Geoff
The risks of doing it include a significant mortality rate of at least 2-3 percent, plus the risk of showers of little bits of atheroma breaking off and damaging the more distant blood supply of the kidney, necessitating dialysis. Research papers are all over the place on this issue. Some say categorically "There is no clear indication for stenting! (including one author from the Mayo Clinic), over aggressive medical treatment with statins and hypotensive drugs" Others say"Maybe there are some exceptions when the stenosis is greater that 75 per cent." Most papers say that their samples were not large enough to give a definitive answer as to whether there is an advantage to stenting or not. So, I guess I will wait for the U/S studies to be repeated at Mayo's and see what they tell us, and then talk turkey with the Vascular guy and the radiologist. One paper I read today said that hypertension does not occur until the stenosis is greater than 75 percent. since I already have significant hypertension, needing two drugs to control it, then, I guess, it must be greater than 75 %. So, I will take myself up there, to a place and doctors I trust, and make the best decision I can, and go with it.
Since I am getting a little frazzled over all this, I will see the Clinical Psychologist also this week, to see if he can help me see the wood through the trees. It would so help to have Di to talk to. But in the end, she would not be able to do anything but say. "This is a decision you will have to make yourself, and live with the consequences of the decision." And that is the way it should be. So, I leave you , tonight, in deep doubt, and not a little confusion. Peace and love to all. Geoff
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Last night at the Grief Support Group
It is over, for this year at least, although there is the offer to return next year when the sessions start again. It may be useful, although I do want to progress as quickly as possible.
The first part ended with communion of which, I think, everyone partook. It was solemn and there were tears, but heck, what would you expect? It was celebrated by a female minister. I felt right at home!
It is late now, so I will write little tonight. Now to bed, with little Ella, my constant companion, who will have to go to the kennel again while I am at Mayo's. But she will be well looked after there, where she is liked, and had some training while I was in Australia. They go to the trouble of finding them compatible doggy companions while they are there. And this time she will be there only a week instead of seven weeks, while I was in OZ. She is a sweet little thing, and I will be pleased to see her hairy little face when I come back. Peace and love be with you all. Geoff
The first part ended with communion of which, I think, everyone partook. It was solemn and there were tears, but heck, what would you expect? It was celebrated by a female minister. I felt right at home!
It is late now, so I will write little tonight. Now to bed, with little Ella, my constant companion, who will have to go to the kennel again while I am at Mayo's. But she will be well looked after there, where she is liked, and had some training while I was in Australia. They go to the trouble of finding them compatible doggy companions while they are there. And this time she will be there only a week instead of seven weeks, while I was in OZ. She is a sweet little thing, and I will be pleased to see her hairy little face when I come back. Peace and love be with you all. Geoff
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Hope
It has been a better day today. Actually achieved some things, including substantial progress in getting the bookkeeping up to date, also filing. Also got my trip to the Mayo Clinic all set up, airline reservations, shuttle and hotel bookings. About took me all day to do it, but it is done.
All sorts of little things bugged me today. This morning I had a nosebleed, just as I went to to take Ella for a walk. Then the zipper on my heavy jacket got stuck, so I had to deal with that also. Those things would have been fun to talk with Di about, and in a few seconds we would have been laughing together about them.. Today they were just irritants, and delayers.
It is the last day of the Grief Support Group tomorrow night, and I will miss my weekly group. I think I will see if I can get into see the psychologist before I go to Mayo's, and after over the Holiday season. But I think Thanksgiving was worse than Christmas will be, being the first major holiday without Di. Maybe I am wrong. We just have to live through it. Need to get Di's warm clothes to the Project Warmth people. There just seems to be so much to do, and I am a little overwhelmed in getting it done. As one of the EfM alumni said, (she was widowed a few years ago), "When you are alone, there is no division of labor. You get to do it all!"
Tomorrow night's group will focus on "Getting through the Holidays", with lots of practical suggestions. We will light another candle, and will take photos, tell what we have found useful from the group. I thank them all for being there and helping by sharing the depth of the experience. If I have learned one thing it is that this isn't over yet, by a long shot. It will take longer than you or I want!
From my perspective I would have to call it a "shattering" experience, as we all try to pick up the pieces, and try to establish the "new normal". But then so do servicemen with PTSD. I sure hope there is some similar kind of support for them. Peace and love to you all. Geoff
All sorts of little things bugged me today. This morning I had a nosebleed, just as I went to to take Ella for a walk. Then the zipper on my heavy jacket got stuck, so I had to deal with that also. Those things would have been fun to talk with Di about, and in a few seconds we would have been laughing together about them.. Today they were just irritants, and delayers.
It is the last day of the Grief Support Group tomorrow night, and I will miss my weekly group. I think I will see if I can get into see the psychologist before I go to Mayo's, and after over the Holiday season. But I think Thanksgiving was worse than Christmas will be, being the first major holiday without Di. Maybe I am wrong. We just have to live through it. Need to get Di's warm clothes to the Project Warmth people. There just seems to be so much to do, and I am a little overwhelmed in getting it done. As one of the EfM alumni said, (she was widowed a few years ago), "When you are alone, there is no division of labor. You get to do it all!"
Tomorrow night's group will focus on "Getting through the Holidays", with lots of practical suggestions. We will light another candle, and will take photos, tell what we have found useful from the group. I thank them all for being there and helping by sharing the depth of the experience. If I have learned one thing it is that this isn't over yet, by a long shot. It will take longer than you or I want!
From my perspective I would have to call it a "shattering" experience, as we all try to pick up the pieces, and try to establish the "new normal". But then so do servicemen with PTSD. I sure hope there is some similar kind of support for them. Peace and love to you all. Geoff
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
!
It is Tuesday, Nov 30th. It is my EfM night (Episcopal Education for Ministry). Previously, I have enjoyed this, for the fellowship, as well as the education. But right now, my heart is not in it. My mind is beset with the future, or potential lack of it, if the surgery does not go well. I can talk to Di spiritually, but that doesn't help nearly as much as our prior (live) talks, and analysis of risks and potential complications together. How I wish I had a medically knowledgeable friend to talk to. But the bond or connection Di and I had, was forged, in trust, over 53 years. That will never happen again. This is just another example of the layers of losses that death of a loved spouse brings, to be grieved and mourned.
On a positive note, I did some "Book Fairy" shopping yesterday, and made out like a bandit at Borders, 39% off here etc. Made some good selections. Will have to have a day at home tomorrow to catch up with the house and bookkeeping. Have not got ahead of the latter since I came back from the trip. I know I will feel better when I can get that caught up again. Tax season will soon be upon us, and all that needs to be up to date, for me: or for the kids if there is any problem with the surgery.
It breaks my heart to think of even the slightest possibility of our kids losing both their parents within the same year. But I am doing everything I can to prevent such a catastrophe. I am going, deliberately, to arguably the best medical center in the world, the Mayo Clinic, where the medical culture is very results and patient oriented. I know, on the basis of past experience, that I will receive the best care from very considerate staff. John kids me and asks if we couldn't have at least one medical crisis during the summer, when it is easier to travel to Minnesota. I know it is difficult, and I thank him so much for being there with me, and with both of us, last January. He has been so generous with us. Maybe I just need to stop wallowing in catastrophe!
I will relax a little bit, watch some of the local news, and then head for EfM. More tomorrow, as I work my way through this mess. Thanks God for friends who like to visit and have coffee! Peace and love be with you all. Geoff
On a positive note, I did some "Book Fairy" shopping yesterday, and made out like a bandit at Borders, 39% off here etc. Made some good selections. Will have to have a day at home tomorrow to catch up with the house and bookkeeping. Have not got ahead of the latter since I came back from the trip. I know I will feel better when I can get that caught up again. Tax season will soon be upon us, and all that needs to be up to date, for me: or for the kids if there is any problem with the surgery.
It breaks my heart to think of even the slightest possibility of our kids losing both their parents within the same year. But I am doing everything I can to prevent such a catastrophe. I am going, deliberately, to arguably the best medical center in the world, the Mayo Clinic, where the medical culture is very results and patient oriented. I know, on the basis of past experience, that I will receive the best care from very considerate staff. John kids me and asks if we couldn't have at least one medical crisis during the summer, when it is easier to travel to Minnesota. I know it is difficult, and I thank him so much for being there with me, and with both of us, last January. He has been so generous with us. Maybe I just need to stop wallowing in catastrophe!
I will relax a little bit, watch some of the local news, and then head for EfM. More tomorrow, as I work my way through this mess. Thanks God for friends who like to visit and have coffee! Peace and love be with you all. Geoff
Monday, November 29, 2010
Writing again
It is time I started to write again. The emotional time of the first Thanksgiving without Dianne, has come and gone, and no subsequent Thanksgiving during our lives will be as painful. The family gathered, and we had dinner for 16! Thanks to all the family members for making it OK. There were a few tears, but I believe this support group at COR has helped a lot, in validating and sharing the experience, and convincing me that Yes! Something major has happened in my life, and it will never be the same again. Grieving is hard work and I hate it. Searching for the 'new normal" is not easy. But we knew that it would happen for one of us.
Over the last few days, I have been rereading a collection of love poems that Dianne gave me in 1973, and remembering those times, our early days in Wichita. Had it not been for her creative theatre work, I believe Di would have suffocated, culturally, in Wichita. But, in her true fashion she made friends, branched out, and experienced life to the full.
Now I have to face a surgical procedure at the Mayo Clinic without her. We have always faced these heath crises together, watching out for each other, and now, she is no longer here to do that. I feel slightly lost, and bereft without her support, and without her there with me. Somehow, I was without fear when she was there; or, at eat. we could discuss and face our fears. The only good thing is that she is now done with those interminable ordeals in surgery waiting rooms, waiting for the surgeon to come out and discuss the outcome. John, God bless him, has volunteered to be with me, and to do it this time.
I wish it were over, and I was back here at the computer writing, and pouring out my heart. It seems that there is no part of life that is trouble free, so we'll just settle down and go through it, and be optimistic about the outcome. This has been on the cards for two years or more. Until now, I have never felt that I could risk being disabled, and there being no one to look after Di. She no longer needs care here on earth, so I can now go ahead and get it done.
The other day, on line, I read that depression, while grieving, may be more severe in people who are not used to asking for their needs to be met. Having spent my life in the "helping professions", where others' needs must always be met before those of the provider, I wonder if I fall into that category. So, I have started to ask myself, "What are my needs? What are my wants? And how can I get those needs, wants, met in the life that remains?' Those questions have got me "off the dime", so to speak, and moving in a generally forward direction. But I still feel aimless and directionless, and seem not to be achieving a lot; at least not nearly as much as I would like to be achieving. People say to me that I have earned some rest. That may be, but I do not want to use that as an excuse to sink into mediocre, senile inactivity.
I have received a lot of positive responses to the bulletins I wrote while away. A number of folk have said they felt as if they gave them a sense of immediacy, that they were right there with me. That is encouraging. A second or third career in travel writing?
Our last Grief Support Group meeting is this week, and there will be a healing service at COR next week, which I will attend. Then it's off to Mayo's the following week, and, hopefully, a procedure that will help to preserve my right kidney, and its function. And then there is Christmas! Peace and love to all, in this festive season. Geoff
Over the last few days, I have been rereading a collection of love poems that Dianne gave me in 1973, and remembering those times, our early days in Wichita. Had it not been for her creative theatre work, I believe Di would have suffocated, culturally, in Wichita. But, in her true fashion she made friends, branched out, and experienced life to the full.
Now I have to face a surgical procedure at the Mayo Clinic without her. We have always faced these heath crises together, watching out for each other, and now, she is no longer here to do that. I feel slightly lost, and bereft without her support, and without her there with me. Somehow, I was without fear when she was there; or, at eat. we could discuss and face our fears. The only good thing is that she is now done with those interminable ordeals in surgery waiting rooms, waiting for the surgeon to come out and discuss the outcome. John, God bless him, has volunteered to be with me, and to do it this time.
I wish it were over, and I was back here at the computer writing, and pouring out my heart. It seems that there is no part of life that is trouble free, so we'll just settle down and go through it, and be optimistic about the outcome. This has been on the cards for two years or more. Until now, I have never felt that I could risk being disabled, and there being no one to look after Di. She no longer needs care here on earth, so I can now go ahead and get it done.
The other day, on line, I read that depression, while grieving, may be more severe in people who are not used to asking for their needs to be met. Having spent my life in the "helping professions", where others' needs must always be met before those of the provider, I wonder if I fall into that category. So, I have started to ask myself, "What are my needs? What are my wants? And how can I get those needs, wants, met in the life that remains?' Those questions have got me "off the dime", so to speak, and moving in a generally forward direction. But I still feel aimless and directionless, and seem not to be achieving a lot; at least not nearly as much as I would like to be achieving. People say to me that I have earned some rest. That may be, but I do not want to use that as an excuse to sink into mediocre, senile inactivity.
I have received a lot of positive responses to the bulletins I wrote while away. A number of folk have said they felt as if they gave them a sense of immediacy, that they were right there with me. That is encouraging. A second or third career in travel writing?
Our last Grief Support Group meeting is this week, and there will be a healing service at COR next week, which I will attend. Then it's off to Mayo's the following week, and, hopefully, a procedure that will help to preserve my right kidney, and its function. And then there is Christmas! Peace and love to all, in this festive season. Geoff
Monday, October 25, 2010
Back again
It must be eight weeks or more since I last posted anything. A lot has happened in the meantime. Last week I begin the first of the Grief Support Group sessions. My, how therapeutic they are. I have needed an environment in which I can cry safely, and vent my grief, hurt and pain. They are there in abundance,
People have told me that I will feel anger. But I don't. Sure enough, I wish some things could have been done differently, medically. But as the illness played out, I saw what was coming, and that Di's illness could end only as it did. Even if all her medical attendants had been right on top of things, and acted within minutes, I cannot guarantee that the illness would not have ended as it did. So, I have nothing to feel angry about. The people I feel sorry for are the people in our group, whose loved ones were snatched away suddenly and catastrophically. If there can be any "luck" ins such stations, I have been "lucky", to have had all this time to prepare, and to have been given the opportunity to give back to Di, an act of love, in caring for her in her final illness. I am weeping as I write this. And you know what? I don't care. One needs to weep, and to mourn the layers of losses; to embrace one's grief to be able to deal with it.
The first night of the "group" began very simply. Each person present was asked to come forward, light a candle, and state the name of the person whose loss they were remembering. Not one man present could do it without sobbing. Then, a little later, each person present was asked to describe the circumstances of their loss; how they came to join this unwanted and unsought brotherhood or sisterhood. That was wrenching and tearful. Then everyone's pain was folded into prayer, and blessings of peace and calm requested for all. It was a "heavy night".
People have told me that I will feel anger. But I don't. Sure enough, I wish some things could have been done differently, medically. But as the illness played out, I saw what was coming, and that Di's illness could end only as it did. Even if all her medical attendants had been right on top of things, and acted within minutes, I cannot guarantee that the illness would not have ended as it did. So, I have nothing to feel angry about. The people I feel sorry for are the people in our group, whose loved ones were snatched away suddenly and catastrophically. If there can be any "luck" ins such stations, I have been "lucky", to have had all this time to prepare, and to have been given the opportunity to give back to Di, an act of love, in caring for her in her final illness. I am weeping as I write this. And you know what? I don't care. One needs to weep, and to mourn the layers of losses; to embrace one's grief to be able to deal with it.
The first night of the "group" began very simply. Each person present was asked to come forward, light a candle, and state the name of the person whose loss they were remembering. Not one man present could do it without sobbing. Then, a little later, each person present was asked to describe the circumstances of their loss; how they came to join this unwanted and unsought brotherhood or sisterhood. That was wrenching and tearful. Then everyone's pain was folded into prayer, and blessings of peace and calm requested for all. It was a "heavy night".
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