Grief, Limbo and Keeping Busy.

During the time between Martins death and funeral, I was on autopilot and felt quite numb most of the time.  I had visits from friends and acquaintances, dropping off gifts, cards, flowers, offers of help, taking me out for a coffee, everyone was lovely.  I had food dropped off, chocolate and biscuits for the kids.  The support for us was amazing and we were (still are) so incredibly grateful.  After the funeral, one of the most helpful things received, was from my work colleagues, they had put together not only a very generous collection of money, but a huge hamper of food, which was amazing, we were coming up to Christmas preparations and I hadn’t organised a thing, the hamper included some basics including tea/coffee, tinned food, crackers, crisps, biscuits, plus more which meant that I didn’t have to go out for those things, chocolate selection boxes had the kids eyes popping out of their heads, bottles of gin (always welcome) and bath/pamper products.  Another group of friends sent us a cinema voucher which was fab, we used this to go and watch 'The Rise of Skywalker', the last Star Wars film, devastated that Martin wasn't there to watch as he was a massive Star Wars fan, but there was an empty seat next to me at the cinema and I like to think he was there with us afterall.

We also received another food hamper nearer to Christmas, I have no idea who this was from, it was delivered, and as I answered the door, I was pre occupied trying the keep the dog in and I assumed it was an Amazon parcel I was expecting.  I realised after bringing it in, it was hand delivered from someone local and I have no idea where/who from.  But again, we were so grateful it all helped a lot. 

Around the time between the funeral and Christmas, I bought pictures to make it feel like Martin was around us all the time.  I had the living room redecorated as we had planned on doing this anyway and I needed to keep busy, I chose wallpaper close to what we were looking for just before the Stroke happened.  I had it all done before Christmas, and bought a painting which was personalised with silhouettes of a family under a tree in Autumn which represents us and what was our last season together, and we used his hand print that was done while he was in ICU to make a heart with mine and the kids handprints all together.  I used a lock of his hair and put it into a heart locket on a necklace, which is meant to contain ashes but as he wasn’t cremated, a lock of his hair could stay with me, along with his wedding ring on the same chain.  I placed a lock of his hair for each of the kids in a miniature glass jar with a poem and presentation box for them to keep, and we each have a heart pin from the transplant team which was sent to us after his organ donation.  We had heard just before the funeral that Martin’s Kidneys had successfully been donated to 2 ladies in their early 40’s and had been on the transplant list for over 2 years.  I have since received a letter from one of the recipients letting me know how it has made a huge difference to her life, which is very bittersweet. 

Family silhouette under a tree in Autumn

I had to make Christmas special for the kids, a family occasion was going to be so sad without Martin and had to make up for it somehow to them, and how on earth was I going to make Christmas dinner on my own?  I can’t do roast potatoes like Martin did; roasts were his thing probably because I don’t eat meat.   I had an invitation to have Christmas dinner at my sisters, which I refused but agreed to go on Boxing Day.  Nearer to Christmas Day I agreed to have dinner at my parents, as I was becoming a bit overwhelmed as the day was approaching.

The thing I have found with grief that has surprised me, is that one day you can be walking around feeling like there is a huge black cloud hanging over you, you can feel a mix of guilt, anger and sadness.  The next day you can be fine all day and be folding towels and suddenly feel like you’ve been kicked in the stomach and struggle to breathe.  You can also be getting through a day perfectly fine and suddenly realise you have tears streaming down your face for no apparent reason, obviously there is a reason but you don’t remember specifically thinking of it, as if that makes any sense.  Then there are the flashbacks, vivid images of events that you couldn’t stop but wish you could have which are so upsetting.  My worst days were Sundays because this was the morning we found Martin having had the stroke, and Mondays because it’s the day he died.  I counted the weeks at first, before it turned to months, I still hate Sundays and Mondays, but now it is a monthly anniversary of dread on the 6^th and the 14^th of every month.

I have found the build up to some occasions worse than the actual day, I was dreading Christmas day, but the day was a good day, the kids were pleased with everything they received and we got out of the house for dinner.  Boxing day went well at my sister’s, the only upset was during dinner because there were Christmas songs playing in the background one minute and out of nowhere ‘Purple Rain’ came on,  as though to tell us that Martin was with us. 

The kids had coped amazingly well.  Jamie tried to go back to university after the funeral, but he was experiencing some flashbacks and not sleeping which was not helpful while trying to catch up on work that he missed.  Being away from home I think he felt quite isolated dealing with his grief but he thought it would upset me if he didn’t try to stick things out, but we agreed it would be best for him to come home and postpone his course as he didn’t want to leave permanently.  We sorted the paperwork and paid up his accommodation fees and he came home just before Christmas.  Taran went through a phase of appearing ok, emotionally he was doing fine, but his little body was struggling, he became ill, couldn’t eat and wouldn’t sleep in his own bed.  He slept in my bed with me for a several weeks.  We had to get back into a routine after the Christmas holiday though, with me going back to work and him back to school.  I put a shelf in his bedroom with his new Star Wars and Marvel pop head figures and a framed superhero handprint picture using his dad’s print with his, I also bought a photo fleece blanket for him to sleep with, with his favourite pictures of his dad.  It all seemed to help, he managed eventually to sleep in his own room and gradually became physically well again, although his appetite has never been the same since.

Photo Blanket

Family Handprints

My middle 2, have coped differently, I don’t think it would be fair to them to write openly about that though Kiera threw herself back into schoolwork to keep busy.  But that’s the thing you see, everybody grieves differently.  The difficult thing for me is trying to help them with their individual grief and manage my own.  But, to try and create some positive chaos and distraction in the household, straight after Christmas I collected an 8 week old Cockapoo puppy, much to the annoyance of our almost 13 year old Jack Russell. 😂  

Arranging a funeral

So, the day after registering that Martin had died, I had an appointment at the funeral directors to arrange his funeral.  Again, I was not one hundred percent what his wishes were, I had joked about being cremated and thrown into the Irish sea from the Welsh coast with being half Irish, half Welsh, even though I was born and brought up in England.  We made jokes, not plans so it gets tricky with trying to follow what a loved one would want. I made the decision to ask the kids what their thoughts were, and it was decided that everyone wanted to go somewhere to visit him and know he was there, so we decided on a burial.  

Those wishes were expressed to the funeral director, and then I had to decide on a coffin.  I wanted to choose the nicest one, he deserved the best after all, but as it was pointed out, it will not be seen apart from at the funeral and then it would be covered in family floral tributes.  So, I went with advice from the knowledgeable Ray and with a package advised and a very 'nice' simple oak coffin.  I had to choose service cards and choose a picture to use for them, and how many to have printed.  I knew a lot of people would turn up to Martin’s funeral, I don’t know if he knew it but he was so well respected by everyone he knew, as I said before he knew a lot of people and genuinely took interest in them.  I ordered a set amount, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.  A photo from our last holiday was chosen for the cover as I knew he was genuinely happy and content, it was in Lanzarote just 2 months before he had the Stroke, not a care in the world unknowing how life was to be taken and changed forever.

Martin’s funeral was delayed slightly because we wanted a certain priest to perform the service because he knew Martin, it was to be held at the parish where he worked as the school’s maintenance officer and where all our kids had been baptised, had their first Holy communions and went to school, but the parish priest was away visiting family in India.  He sent massage from India that he would like to do the funeral, so the first date suggested was October 31^st  a couple of days after his return.  While Martin might have found that quite funny, me and the kids did not want his funeral on Halloween.  So the date was set for November 1^st 2019 at 12pm.  

Next, I had to sort the clothes he would be buried in, simple shirt and trousers were chosen, a smart/casual outfit he would have worn at a function. I had them washed and ironed and waited a couple of days to get the call that he was at the funeral directors having been collected from the hospital.  Once I had confirmation he was there, I dropped off his clothes and waited to be called to let me know that we could see him at the chapel of rest.  I received this call late one afternoon, I asked the kids if they would like to see him and they chose not to, except Taran.  He really wanted to see him and didn’t seem phased by it at all.  In fact, when we got there he was very much the inquisitor he had been in ICU a few days before.  He was amazingly comfortable seeing him, he said he looked asleep and peaceful and was happy he went.  I went that one time, and that was enough for me.  He did not look like Martin, he did not look that way when he was asleep, he was not that pale in skin tone, ever in his life.  He looked at peace, but he was gone, to me it was his empty shell.  It is not like this for everyone I know that, I know people have gone back several times to visit their loved ones at the chapel of rest, one of his colleagues told me that for them their partner looked as they had been before a long illness, so this experience is different for everyone.  I checked on the older 3 kids everyday if they wanted to see their dad, their final decision was to remember him as he was.

My next challenge was to choose hymns, readings and prayers for the service, and the most daunting thing of all, a Eulogy.  I had help from the head of the school Martin worked at, and from a representative of the priest, who also worked at the school and knew Martin for many years (I’m trying to avoid naming names just in case, but I’m sure many know who I mean), they helped with choosing hymns and readings because as I told them 'I am a rubbish Catholic' and didn't know the best ones to choose.  I researched some relevant bidding prayers myself, and the kids agreed to read one each.  I reached out and asked for offers to read any prayers or readings, my dad agreed to do a reading, as did a retired school staff member and the head agreed to read a Eulogy on behalf of the school.  I was asked at the funeral directors if I had anyone in mind to be coffin bearers, it was not a worry though as the staff on the day would carry him if needed.  I did not think it would be.  

We were also asked to choose an entry and exit song, this was hard to do as well.  As already mentioned Martin's music taste was very broad.  Kiera pointed out that he loved Prince and had enjoyed her school's summer performance, particularly 'Purple Rain', so this was decided as his entry song.  His exit song was harder, it was mentioned to me that it could be a song that I liked.  I went through so many.  One afternoon while driving my car 'Memories' came on the radio and the words to me were perfect, I asked the kids what they thought, they agreed the song was right but they did not like Maroon 5 who sang it.  So Kiera found an acoustic cover version of it that we downloaded and put onto a disc with 'Purple Rain'.

Purple Rain

Memories

While sorting the church side of things, I also had to find somewhere available for after the funeral for family and friends to have something to eat and drink, this proved not to be easy with it being the school half term holiday and between Halloween and Bonfire night, everywhere seemed to be booked up.  I finally had a response from my nearest pub restaurant which was newly built and we had not even got around to having a meal or drink there yet despite saying we would, but they thankfully had availability and turned out to be an excellent choice (The Queen of Hearts).  I went for a visit to book the venue and the food.  Now for flowers, I went to a local florist recommended by the funeral directors, and they were lovely, understanding and had a good idea of what I wanted.   I spent longer in there due to the owner also knowing Martin from working at Halton Haven. Told you I couldn’t go anywhere without someone knowing him!😜

That was that, several days of organising, phone calls, visits and now a Eulogy to write, this would be so difficult for me, not only writing it because how on earth do write about a persons life to be read in a few minutes?  But reading it in public which was a huge fear, and I could not take in everything and grieve until I had written and read what I had decided to write, it was a huge weight hanging over me, but I knew I had to say something, I concentrated on how we met and the husband and dad that he was to us.  Also had to sort what me and the kids were going to wear, this would be their first ever funeral.  Taran had a lovely suit he had worn for his First Holy Communion in the summer so he was sorted, the older lads did not want to wear a suit but both chose to wear black shirt and trousers, Kiera chose a simple jumper and skirt and I chose a new dress that I saw in a shop window that stood out to me.  I was asked if there would be a dress code, but I just wanted everyone to wear what they would be comfortable in without pressure to find either black, or some bright or football themed colour.  

I posted Martin’s funeral date over social media, the funeral directors put a notice in the local paper, but who reads a paper these days, and how else do you ‘invite’ people to a funeral?  I posted the funeral details to every person and their dog I think, because now I was worried nobody would come even though I knew deep down they would.  And they did.  

I couldn’t quite take in who was there at the church on the day of the funeral, I know there was standing room only, I only wish I had taken in each individual person who was there, because even afterwards I did not get to see everyone and not everyone came back for drinks etc.  The day went in a bit of a blur really, I felt physically sick and nervous the whole morning, and during the service.  The kids did their dad proud, Jamie and Ethan were coffin bearers along with my dad, Martin's brother, nephew and my sister's husband, then all 4 of them read their bidding prayers, which I know they were also nervous about.  I read my Eulogy, I was thankful for the long dress I bought as my legs were shaking throughout speaking, I know I had a wobble of the voice a couple of times when talking of his transplant recipients and an Iron Man reference at the end which Taran asked me to say, 'We love you 3000' due to being Marvel fans and the fact that the last film we saw a family at the cinema was Endgame.  I was so nervous though I had forgot to bow at the Altar when I got up and when I went back to my seat, slap on the wrist for me.  I walked back to my seat to a round of applause, which was unexpected and emotional. 

Afterwards at the Queen of Hearts I never bought a single drink yet there was always one at my table/in my hand.  I remember most of those who came to talk to me, his relatives, people from his year at school, from the Haven and from the school he worked at, my friends, my colleagues who didn’t know Martin only from me talking about him (possibly moaning 😖), old school friends of mine, as well my family, close and distant.  But there were people there who I only found out about afterwards.  But I thank you all for being there for him and for us.  I appreciated everyone being there, the stories from when he was younger too, I did have a laugh at some of them it was nice to hear the things people remembered about him and made what I thought would be a very dark day much more bearable.

Now that day was over, I was facing the unkown, I had been driven for the last few weeks with adrenaline and now there was nothing to do but face up to a future without my husband, my best friend, and my kids without their dad.  Once this had hit me, the waves of grief would suddenly consume me out of the blue in the days that followed.  I was due to go back to work the Monday following Martin's funeral but with the lack of sleep and now the grief hitting I postponed my return until after Christmas.

October 13th - 15th 2019

October 13^th 2019

Over night it was clear Martins body was struggling to hang on, he wasn’t absorbing any of his feed, he was on insulin, his temperature was getting hard to control.  The transplant team stepped in a lot today, had to answer lots of questions, and decide what could be used and what could not. Again, this had to be me deciding as we had never discussed it seriously, but the one thing I told them they had to leave him was his eyes, I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else having his eyes, eyes that you look into the soul with, might sound weird but that was my thought process. Some questions I did not expect such as did he visit prostitutes, take drugs etc.  I know they must be asked but I did not expect the prostitute question. Thankfully, he didn’t have time for such things!😄

While I was being questioned by the transplant nurse in a closed room, there was a commotion outside, and a knock on the door, we were asked if anyone had collapsed in here, obviously not, so they ran to the family room where my mum was doing chest compressions on a man who had collapsed, he came around and we found out later it was a heart attack.  So, my mum was in a bit of shock due to that now, despite being a retired nurse.

It had been decided that preparations for the transplant team were to carry on overnight with a team to operate arriving tomorrow from London, so tomorrow was the day we knew we were going to say goodbye, we didn’t know what time, it would depend on when this team arrived and when they had recipients for his organs lined up as some would be used straight away.

Overnight the team confirmed all of his organs were healthy at the moment and could be used for transplant, there was no guarantee though as they were going off scans and blood tests, they would know more once he was being operated on but his organs appeared healthy.  Which begged the question, why was he going through this, how could this happen to someone who was physically well and healthy?

They did Martin’s handprints for us and took some locks of his hair that we could also keep.  Myself and Jamie again stayed with him until the early hours before going back to the accommodation to try and get some sleep as tomorrow was going to be just awful.

October 14^th 2019

A day of spending as much time as possible with Martin today, we were told the ventilator would be turned off late afternoon depending on the traffic for the team travelling from London.  Martin had been visited by the hospital priest to give his blessings and he came back this morning to give him his last rites.  Family arrived to spend time with him, I would now have to be completely honest with Taran and tell him what was going to happen. 

We sat in a room together, and I based the conversation on what he told me the other day about not being able to live without the ventilator and that could not be possible. He understood, but I think he hoped he was wrong.  He double checked, ‘is he actually going to die?’.  Broke my heart to tell him, he sobbed.  Gave him a huge cuddle before asking him if he wanted to be there today, and if he wanted to stay while the ventilator was being turned off.  He wanted to, he could change his mind at any point, but he chose to stay till the end.

It was discussed that when his ventilator was turned off he had to pass away within a certain time, I can’t remember if it was an hour?  Otherwise they wouldn’t be able to use his organs.  They also had to take him to theatre 5 minutes after his heart had stopped. There was no way of knowing how long it would take for his heart to stop and up till now he had been taking some involuntary breaths himself, which is why he was still on the ventilator up until now.

It was around 5.30pm ish that they were ready to remove the ventilator.  Once it was done, family stayed with him and we played Prince for him.  There was myself and our 4 kids, his brother and sister in law, my parents and my sister and brother in law.  I could see when he had stopped breathing, I could see his colour change, I was quite shocked at how quickly it was. I held his right arm as that was the side I had been sat throughout, Taran on my lap.  I could feel his skin change, that quickly.  I looked at his face and watched a single tear roll from his right eye down his cheek, I knew he had gone. I wondered if the tear was because he was sad to leave us, was it because he was happy he could see his dad maybe?  More likely a physiological reason, but it broke me.  The nurse came in at that moment and confirmed his heart had stopped and we had 5 minutes to stay before they had to take him.  We said our emotional goodbyes and left the room.  We sat in a private room, which I think we had taken over since Martin had been admitted, the nurse brought us a trolly of tea and toast and we stayed for a while.  Don’t think I spoke; I think I was still in shock.

The nurse came to me with a bereavement pack, I was offered to spend time with Martin after he came back from theatre. I asked about how he would look and decided against it.  I was to come back the next day to collect his medical certificate which was needed to register his death.  I was also to receive a phone call from the transplant nurse to let me know how it was going in theatre.  I decided to stay in the accommodation for one more night, alone, so that I could start doing the necessary things the next morning.

I received a call around 11pm that night, the transplant nurse confirmed that all had gone as it should, they couldn’t use his lungs as an infection had started due to being on the ventilator, there was some sort of complication and they couldn’t use his whole heart but they could use the heart valves.  They took everything else that they had permission for successfully.  I was asked again if I wanted to see him, I said no. 

October 15^th 2019

I called the registry office first thing, I had to register his death at St Georges Hall as he died in Liverpool, they made an appointment for me for that afternoon.  I then called the funeral directors and made an appointment for the following day. I packed up my things and left the accommodation, I went to ICU to collect Martin’s medical certificate and thank the team there.  I went to my car; my tyre was flat.  I hadn’t checked on it since staying there!  I joked to myself that Martin didn't want me to leave him behind.  I pumped the tyre up and decided to drive it to our local train station rather than drive into Liverpool city centre in case it went flat again and get on the train to Liverpool. St Georges Hall is right outside the train station so made sense to me.  I stopped at McDonalds first and ate for what seemed like the first time in over a week.   Then onto the train station.  I was told off for not asking for a lift into Liverpool, to have someone with me, but I needed the quiet, to be alone, I knew there were busy, emotionally tough days ahead and just wanted this peace.  

I did what I needed to do at the registry office.  I read online that it was recommended to have 5 copies of a death certificate, they have to be paid for, I was advised one was enough.  I got 2, one to keep and one to be the one to send off to wherever needed to see an original copy.  I have since found that most places are happy to see a photo taken on a phone in an email, or a photocopy. The only place that wanted an original copy sent off was with a bereavement allowance application. 

So that was one job done, I came home.  Well, I went to my parents to have dinner and to pick up the kids and finally home.  From this day for a while I think I was numb; I was now on autopilot to start making arrangements for a funeral I didn’t want or expect.

October 10th - 12th 2019

October 10^th 2019

No change today, Martin was staying on the ventilator and would be reviewed tomorrow.  I had been given a booklet to add some things to for Martin (or us) to read back on, I was just writing that his sister in law had just put holy water on his forehead and how he’d be laughing at her, when a hospital chaplain came up beside me and introduced himself. When he went, I was mortified, timing couldn’t have been worse it’s like he was there to guilt me for laughing about the holy water.  

It was a day spent sitting with and talking to Martin and waiting... so much waiting.

October 11^th 2019

I went to ICU for visiting, Martin was not in his bay, he had been taken for a scan.

As soon as he came back from his scan, I was taken to a room with a consultant, I knew this did not mean positive news.  I was told that he now had full brain damage, there was nothing they could do for him now. I remember the consultant sitting opposite me, I was so uncomfortable, although this is her job day in day out, she was obviously uncomfortable too, I had to get out of the room so excused myself, think she might have been relieved at me leaving first.  

I was later told that the Palliative care team would take over his care to allow him to pass away pain free, and with dignity, he would come off the sedation but stay on the ventilator and under constant review.  I was living an actual nightmare, everything seemed so surreal, I found my breathing hard sometimes, like I had a huge knot in my chest.  We did not know how much time he would have left so arranged to have Kiera collected from school and brought to the hospital with Jamie and Ethan, she had been trying to do all the normal things, Ethan wasn’t able to face school at all.  I had to ask the nurse when they arrived, how on earth do I tell them that their dad is going to die.  We went through how I could say it, she offered to tell them.  I took the kids into a room with the nurse waiting outside in case I needed her, and then I did the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my entire life and told them that their dad could not survive what has happened to him.  

Martin was moved into a side room of ICU where we could come and be with him outside of visiting hours, we were encouraged to spend as much time with him as we wanted.  Taran was also allowed to visit now, I did not know if it would be a good or bad thing for an 8-year-old to see. I asked for various people’s opinions.  I had a chat with the night shift leader about it, and she told me that young children seem to cope very well, they are used to technology, so the equipment doesn’t appear to bother them.  I decided I would ask him what he wanted to do.  Tomorrow was Saturday so he wouldn’t be in school and would have to come to the hospital at some point anyway.

Jamie decided he was going to stay at the accommodation with me, my sister had stayed with me before this, but Jamie felt he needed to be here, I am sure the others wanted to as well, but I only had 2 beds in my room.  We stayed up until the early hours in Martin’s room from then on, we played music in his room, went through his Spotify playlist, which made it very hard to decide what to play him, he had a lot of playlists.  We played some of the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack, some Prince, he had a playlist called ‘Columbian Powder’ and even one for Jazz.  I told the nurses they could play whatever they wanted when we weren't there as he liked most music.

October 12^th 2019

I had the question about organ donation today, this was something I knew I would like to happen but also asked the kids about it, oddly enough Kiera had just been reading a fictional book about the subject, we all decided it’s what we all wanted, and sure Martin wanted too.  This is something I would suggest every family discuss, so wishes are 100 percent clear and known, this and funerals.  It’s not a nice topic, but it’s important for those left to deal with what comes after to know that they are doing the right thing, don’t wait until you get old, or ill, this may never happen.

As we had decided that organ donation was what was wanted, we were told that Martin couldn’t stay on the ventilator indefinitely, his body was already starting to shut down and the longer he was on the ventilator the more unlikely organ donation could be possible.  We agreed for the transplant team to come in and start doing what they needed to.

Taran came to the hospital, I told him about the equipment that was being used, and what he would see, smell, hear and asked him if he’d like to see his dad.  He wanted to.  I did not know what to expect of his reaction, but it was not what it was.  He was very curious, he spoke to him, he walked all around his bed taking in everything that was going on, he then started making comparisons and making us laugh.  He said the ventilator made him sound like Darth Vader but with a little squeak on the end, the atmosphere in the room changed that day, there was laughter, the nurse commented on him being a little fire rocket and she told me that she loved how I answered all his questions honestly in a way he could understand.  The only question I could not answer was when he asked me when his dad was going to wake up.  I hadn’t told Taran yet that Martin was dying.  I wanted this time with him not to be sad.  The nurse said when he asked that question she had to leave the room, up till now she had been extemely professional and had told me previously she puts up a barrier at work, she told me she was finding that hard to do with us.    

Taran had a hamster that died in the summer (this is relevant) just before we went on holiday, it was poorly and we had taken him to the vets where he had to be put to sleep.  I had explained to Taran why this had to be done, he was too ill and needed the pain to stop.  He was upset but understood.  This comparison was made while Taran was asking about the ventilator.  He said ‘So if this machine is making dad breathe, if it is stopped and he can’t breathe by himself it will have to go back on, and he can’t live like that so we’d have to put him to sleep’.  I laughed out loud, I then cried, he got it, but he didn’t know.  He became concerned ‘Mum are you crying?’  My mum told him he was so funny he made me cry with laughter.

 He found out about all the waiting around, and was very bored and restless in between being with his dad as some of the cares Martin was receiving were done without us there for his privacy and dignity and probably wouldn't have been very nice for us to see. I asked him if he wanted to come back to visit tomorrow, he said no as it was boring, he would rather go and play with his cousin for the day.  Fair enough.

It was suggested to me to take a picture of Taran holding Martin's hand, so I did.  As Taran left, he asked why I was staying behind again and that he just wanted things to go back to normal.  He didn’t know what the new normal was going to be.

October 7th - 9th 2019

October 7^th 2019

I was woke early with a phone call telling me that the hospital were definitely going to operate and to get to the hospital as soon as I could.

I spoke with a consultant from ICU, he told me about the operation and why Martin needed it. The cause of the stroke I was told was due to a clot forming in his carotid artery, and then shifted and travelled into his brain which then caused the stroke, it had happened overnight and no chance for early medication to make a difference.  The right side of his brain had been injured which affected his left sided mobility, and if he survived his speech should recover but not his mobility.  It was stressed that the operation was to save life, as his brain was swelling and the more it swelled the more of his brain would become damaged, and if it swelled onto the brain stem he would die.  He told us that being young was not an advantage to him, the brain shrinks as you get old leaving more space to allow for swelling, in a younger person there is no space to allow for swelling.   So he went to theatre to have a craniectomy.

This is when I finally called Jamie my eldest who was at uni, I had been putting it off until I knew exactly what was going on as didn’t want him worrying on his own without family there.  I had told him someone would come and pick him up if he wanted to come home.  He didn’t wait for anyone to come and pick him up though, he got the train.  Though he’d have been home sooner had he let someone come and get him.  

It was around 4 hours till I seen Martin and got news of his operation, it had gone as it should, he was now on a ventilator to do his breathing for him to give him plenty of rest.  He was critical but stable and they would monitor and decide when to remove the ventilator the following day.  Stayed until visiting was over and went to collect Jamie from the train station before attempting sleep.

October 8^th 2019

Martin had a ‘stable and comfortable night’.   He came round from the sedation and the ventilator removed and was breathing well on his own.  Everything was going to plan, and he was answering questions by squeezing hands as he was so tired, he squeezed the nurses hand at one point and didn’t let go, I told him to stop flirting so he squeezed tighter with a smile on his face, absolute cheek.  He then squeezed my hand, so tight though that I had to ask him to stop, again he was smiling.  I had to keep holding his right hand as he kept trying to pick at the dressing on his head from the operation.  The older 3 kids came to visit and spoke briefly with him, under 14’s are not allowed in ICU, so Taran couldn’t visit.  Not the best place for a child really as there were many patients on ventilators.  Again we stayed until visiting was over and I went home, the kids still stayed at my parents, it was as good a day as we could have hoped for and we were all really positive, hoping now that the worst case scenario was going be no mobility on his left side and long term stay at hospital for physical therapy. 

October 9^th 2019

I called the ward first thing to see how Martin had been overnight, I was told he had a stable night, but they did have to put a splint on his right hand as he managed to peel off his dressing, and he had managed to say please and thank you to the nurse.  I drove to the hospital for visiting times, and when I got there I was told he had taken a turn for the worse, the swelling on his brain had not stopped, so more of his brain was being damaged and they needed to put him back into an induced coma on the ventilator to give his body complete rest. Later on when the nurse was doing her observations, I could see in her face that something was very wrong, one of his pupils was fixed and dilated and it was today that I was told to prepare for the worst, I felt like I had been kicked by a horse, I couldn’t breathe, I wanted to be sick but I hadn’t eaten for the last couple of days.  One moment there was hope, then it was gone.  Accommodation on site was arranged for me so I was nearby if the worst happened overnight.

October 5th - 6th 2019

October 5^th 2019

Was a good day, Martin was in a good mood, he was going out to meet some old friends who he would meet up with every now and then as he didn’t go out much.  I gave him a lift to the pub where he was meeting his friends, quite early, around 5.40pm ish.  I told him to be careful with his drink as he was out early, he laughed and told me he doesn’t get like me when I’ve had a drink (he's worse, ha) and he’d be fine. He kissed me, and told me I was pretty, I remember thinking at the time where did that come from?  I told him I loved him and to call me if he needed help getting home.  That is the last time I saw him healthy.  He had been complaining earlier in the week of a migraine, but didn’t make too much of it, and he did suffer migraines since before I knew him, and it wasn’t bothering him enough to stop him going to work, or out to the pub. 

That night, the kids were settled doing their own thing, Jamie was away at uni, Taran was asleep and I was watching TV in our bedroom. I watched TV till late.  But I had heard Martin come home before midnight, and potter about downstairs  I heard him speak to Kiera and then he settled on the sofa downstairs, which he often did if he’d had a drink, I didn’t check on him, why would I, he’d have a snooze and go to bed later on. 

October 6^th 2019

It was Sunday morning, no need to get up early and the kids were still asleep.  I heard Kiera get up and go downstairs.  She came back up to my room and told me her dad was lying on the floor in the living room.  I won’t go into details.  I went downstairs, and initially thought he was still drunk.. I actually shouted for him to get up off the floor as he’d been sick.  He lifted his head slightly and told me he’d had a stroke, again I shouted for him to get up as needed to clean the mess.  He told me he couldn’t.  I remember the panic starting to build at that point, he was slurring his words and I knew he couldn’t still be that drunk as he was home before midnight.  I don’t think I was thinking straight at this time, I tried to help him get up and I couldn’t, he was a dead weight as his left side was completely useless, I begged him to help me help him get up, but he couldn’t. I told him I would have to call an ambulance if he didn’t get up. 

I dialled 111 first, then thought what the hell was I doing, I dialled 999.  I was asked to tell him to repeat the words ‘the early bird catches the worm’, he did but the left side of his mouth didn’t move, the left side of his face drooped, I think I tried to convince myself it was because he had been lying on that side of his body on the floor.  I was then told to ask him to raise both his arms, he raised his right arm.  I told him ‘no both arms’, he said he was. My words to the operator were just ‘oh no’. 

My 3 kids who were at home, were at the living room door now, I told them to stay on the stairs or upstairs as I was waiting for the ambulance, they thought his state was drink related. The ambulance seemed to take forever. The operator was on the phone to me for 20 minutes before telling me she had to go and take another call but the ambulance was on it’s way.  Another 20 minutes had passed where I had made Martin comfortable, clean clothes, pillow, blanket, got myself cleaned up and ready to go to the hospital while Kiera kept a watch on her dad and for the ambulance.

The ambulance finally arrived, and it took 3 of us to lift Martin into a chair so he could be moved to the ambulance, they told me before leaving that it was possible that he’d had a stroke so they would be taking him to Whiston hospital where they have a stroke ward.  I followed on in my car, told the kids to get dressed as I’d call my sister for them to go to hers until I could contact my parents.

Martin arrived in A&E, and after I had arrived he was sent for a scan so I made the phone calls I needed to make.  Soon after he moved onto the ward, I was told there had been a ‘significant event’ on his brain and they would be treating him for a stroke and possibly transferred to The Walton Centre where they were equipped to do surgery at short notice should he need it.  Words like, brain injury, next few hours being critical, if he has an op it will be to save his life rather than mobility .. went swimming around in my head as I could not hold all the information in.

Martin was still talking, and he still had his humour, he asked me to call work to tell them he couldn’t come in on Monday as he had temporary paralysis.  He was asked by the medics if he could speak Spanish, being as his surname is Spanish, he replied ‘I could last night’.  They laughed, at his quick replies, but he was in pain. He told me he had tried to get up off the sofa in the night but couldn’t and he’d fell onto the floor.  I told him he should have come to bed in the first place, he said ‘no, I might have pissed the bed’, I said at least I’d have known something was wrong. His consultant confirmed that he would be transferred urgently to The Walton Centre where they would monitor for themselves and decide if they would operate.

I remember there being some time limit on when the op should be and how recovery should go, but I can’t think what it was now as all that went out of the window. 

I followed him again by car to The Walton Centre.  I was there till extremely late and he was settled for the night on the intensive care unit.  I came home to an empty house as the kids were all at my parents by now.  I remember pacing the kitchen as did not know what to do with myself, I couldn’t cry, I wanted to scream though, I probably did.  Why hadn’t I gone to check on him after he came home the night before, insist that he went to bed, or got up earlier? This guilt is something I still need to work on.

Welcome

Hi, and welcome to my new blog.  I am not a writer, certainly never written a blog before so excuse me as I learn as I go.  I thought I would get some of what goes on in my head written down since losing my husband Martin when he was 48 years old and myself just 46 years old.  There's such as thing called baby brain, well I've discovered there is also widow brain, so I guess if I write things down, I can always look back and remember.

Just a brief back story.  I met Martin on May 11th 1996.  I remember it because it was FA cup final day and Liverpool had lost to Manchester United, and I met Martin at a local pub drowning his sorrows at his teams loss.  When I say drowning his sorrows, he was actually dancing across the room wearing a green curly wig.  He was 25 years, I was 22. We were pretty much together from then, engaged 4 months later, and married May 9th 1998. 

We have 4 children together, three boys and one girl. When Martin died, Jamie was 19yrs, Ethan 17, Kiera 15 and Taran 8.

Martin was a school maintenance officer, (caretaker) and was well known in our community from working at the primary school for 15 years and also from working at the hospice his dad founded years before, which Martin had helped to build, and worked in maintenance there for many years, but he was very chatty and loved talking to residents, staff, relatives, well anyone. There wasn't a day we went to the shops where I wouldn't lose him because he got chatting to someone he knew.  You know they say opposites attract, well that was us, I am an introvert and get anxious very easily. He was bubbly and chatty and put everyone at ease, which is probably why we got on as we did.

Anyway, there was very little wrong with Martin health wise in general. There was no warning that he would die young.  He walked or would ride his bike everywhere he needed to go.  We had a car, but he never drove, he never needed to really, I had the car for work, he worked local.  He wasn't particularly bothered about healthy eating, but he didn't eat badly either, he had a few drinks some weekends.  He was just a normal 48 year old working family man.  So, I still don't understand why he had a huge stroke on the morning of October 6th 2019 which led to his death on October 14th. 

I will go into what happened in my next post.