Passing

My Other Half passed away Thursday evening after a short illness. Christmas evening he began to complain of shortness of breath and a heaviness in the chest. I recognized that the symptoms could be heart problems, but he didn't want to go to the ER and the symptoms eased off shortly after. I'd ask periodically over the next few days how he was doing and he would say he was better. He kept saying he didn't want to go to the ER.

On Wednesday, his father and stepmother visited and they all went out to lunch. I was at work and couldn't be with them. They were concerned as he had a couple of light-headed spells. Gerri convinced him that he should see a doctor as she had suffered with angina for some time and thought the symptoms were similar to hers. When I got home, he said he wanted to see a doctor. I asked if he wanted to go to the ER, but he said it wasn't necessary. I told him to call the doctor the next day and make an appointment for Friday, my next day off.

When I got home Thursday, he had called the doctor. Our doctor was on vacation and the nurse suggested that the best thing to do would be to go to the ER. I feel that an appointment could have been made with the on-duty doctor for evaluation, but that turned out to be unnecessary.

About 930 pm he said he wanted to go to the ER. I got him there in about 10 minutes and he was taken right in to a treatment room. They ran an EKG and took blood for tests. He was put on oxygen right away and since he was now in pain, he was given morphine. A cardiologist was called.

When the cardiologist got there he assured me that they would do all they could but that this was very serious. While I understood what he was saying, like most wives, I believed that this time would be different and he would be fine. The doctor was concerned that they would not be able to get him to the cath lab, and if they did, that he might code there. And in the event he didn't, because of his various health problems, they might not be able to do the catherization.

We raced through the hospital and I was shown to the waiting room. I called my brother who, angel that he is, came and stayed with me. While waiting, I prayed that God would do His will. Yes, I wanted MOH to survive, but only if it were God's will. Yes, I did a bit a pleading to let him live, I'm human enough for that. But, I have faith that God does what is best for each of us.

I heard a "code blue" called and said to John, my brother, that I didn't like that. I knew it was for MOH. A few minutes later, a nurse came and took us to the family room. She slipped and said "viewing room", corrected herself and said "family room." I knew then, in my heart, the worst had happened.

The doctor came in shortly after and told me that MOH had passed away. I was now a widow. That's still hard for me to really comprehend. He had advanced aterial disease, three arteries were nearly or completely closed. They did all they could, but in the end, his heart was just too weak to help them save him. They took me in to see him. He was peaceful. I talked to him for a few minutes, telling him that I would be alright. And I will be.

I take comfort knowing that he is now in God's presence and in perfect health, whole and complete in body. He is with his mother, brother, sister, beloved grandfather and grandmother. Those of us left behind, me, his father, stepmother, sister, niece, and friends, have to learn to live without his love for us, his humor, his intelligence, and his big, generous heart.

Sweetheart, I will always love you and miss you, but I will be alright.