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Found 4 results

  1. I never imagined to be typing words on a grieving support group site today... July 27, 2017, A day I will never forget. The day I lost my mother to death. You know what pains me the most? The fact that she died alone in our room. I am an only child, 27 years of age and my father passed away on October 20, 1989. I was born on October 15, 1989, therefore I was only a mere 5 day old infant when I lost him to death. Basically, my whole life is just my Mama and I. She took care of me, educated me, fed me, gave me EVERYTHING, did EVERYTHING. She sacrificed 27 years of her life for me. I saw the moments of hardships, pains, and disappointments she endured just to give me a life that is comfortable. We would always go to bed at night and watch music videos of my favorite artists, or watch her favorite movies. We would laugh and cry together while watching, haha. Days before she died, she told me she was not feeling well. We were eating then and after she finished her meal, she suddenly felt not too good. She lied down on the bed and rested. For the first time, we didn't watch any videos because she rested instead. I was worried, but not too much as I thought it was a simple flu. I gave her meds when she woke up, even talked to her. She said she is going to be fine anyway so no need to get so worked up. Next day, I went to work. I couldn't leave her because it felt like my feet were too heavy. She said she was fine and just needed a cold glass of water, which I gave her. She told me "Go, or you'll be late", and I did go. That was the biggest regret of my life. If onlys and what ifs filled my existence now. If only i didn't leave, If only I had taken the initiative to call a doctor, if only I called an ambulance, If only I was by her side before she took her last breath. I was worried the whole day at work. It's like something is bothering me for some odd reason. I decided to take an early out at work. I needed to go home that's what I thought. I passed by a vendor who sells banana cue (it's a popular snack in the Philippines, it's basically sweetened bananas on a stick), it was her favorite snack and figured she will be happy if I buy three sticks of it for her. I went home and it's like time suddenly became so slow. I unlocked the door and I saw what will be the biggest nightmare in my life. I...saw my mother, leaning on the side of the bed, frozen and not breathing. I literally just looked at her. I did not know what to do. After a minute or two, panic sets in and I saw my hands shaking while dialing the numbers on my mobile phone. My phone even froze on me and I screamed the biggest curse I have ever said in my entire life. Minutes after, Medics came in, saying no heartbeat and no pulse. Nothing. She might have died at around 9AM. I saw her at 4:24 PM. Upon hearing what the medics said, I shook her, I poured water on her face, I slap her, I beat her chest, EVERYTHING out of desperation. I then broke down and cried. The reality slowly creeping on me that YES, she is gone, Christine. Our lives together suddenly flashed in front of me. I couldn't even grieve properly because I have to process her death certificate and cremation permit file the next day. Who would have thought I would process that damn death certificate?! I was angry and bitter. It felt unfair. She, at the age of 54, died of a heart attack. That's what the coroner said. Up until this day, my head is still swimming around that day when I found her body. I still work, eat, take a bath, doing what Humans normally do but it all felt pointless now. Waking up everyday is a pain. The only motivation I have is that I know my mother wouldn't want me to waste my life away. She suffered 27 years and for me to just throw that all away is like being an ungrateful child. The least I can do to her is show her that her sacrifices didn't end up to nothing. I guess this void in my heart will always be in here now no matter what. I'd be happy one minute, but sad the next. I know time will heal me, but I also know it wouldn't heal me completely.
  2. I Can't Stop Thinking About My Cat

    Hi everyone, This is probably going to be a long post, and I apologize if it's a little disjointed or hard to follow. I've got a lot on my mind right now. Early in the morning of February 5th, my wife and I got a call from the vet that our cat Shadow had suffered a seizure and died. We'd brought him into the vet due to his lethargy and refusal to eat. For weeks he'd been slower to move around than usual, and in the early going he had a runny eye. Since our other cat had just gotten over some sneezing that had lasted a couple of weeks, we didn't think much of it at first. We took him to the vet for the first time because his lethargy had gotten a little worrying. The vet took his temperature and said he had a really bad fever. He gave Shadow a shot to reduce the fever, and a couple of antibiotic shots to keep his upper respiratory infection from letting bacterial infections in. He sent us home with some ointment for Shadow's eye as well. For a couple of days, Shadow was almost back to his usual self. Then he started getting lethargic again. Our usually highly-social cat was hiding and growling if he thought we were going to try to move him, or whenever we started to pick him up. We brought him back, and the vets gave us a gel-style medicine to try to help him fight off the virus. He took this medicine twice before turning his nose up completely. We stopped worrying about giving it to him, but within a couple of days, he was not eating at all. So we brought him back to the vet. On this trip, like trips before, he seemed to do better as soon as we got to the vet. The doctor tried giving him some special recovery food, designed to be extra palatable, and Shadow went nuts for it. We brought him home with a few cans of the food. That was Thursday night. Come Saturday morning he wasn't eating at all. He wasn't moving under his own power. On Friday we had him up on the bed and he didn't move at all when he had to pee. He just wet the bed. We found him Friday night wedged into a corner, his head caught behind one of the bars for the radiator. We had to struggle to get him out. So Saturday morning we made another call to the vet, and brought him in for an appointment at 5:30 that afternoon. He barely responded to anything. The vet did some bloodwork and got him set up on an IV. The bloodwork didn't show anything life threatening, just a few levels that were out of whack, consistent with having an infection and not eating. Once we were done talking to the vet, we said our goodbyes and left Shadow there on his IV drip, figuring we'd be picking him up in a day or two. It was that night that we got the call about the seizure. When we went in to see him, they told us that his front legs had seized up, stretched out in front of him. His jaw had locked in place. He'd vomited up pieces of tissue, and his stool was black and tarry like he had suffered internal bleeding. The vet said it was consistent with poisoning, but I know we were careful with him. We knew he would eat the most random things, and we wouldn't have left anything dangerous. We didn't even have anything containing strychnine, which the vet said it looked like. We think maybe it had been cancer, or some other disease that had riddled his insides without us knowing. I was, and still am, completely crushed. Shadow was only about eight and a half years old. We'd adopted him shortly after losing another cat, whose death I had also taken very hard. We'd had Shadow for five years, and he'd had a couple of health scares a couple of years ago that were resolved. But now that he's gone for real, I'm struggling. At first, I was just devastated. I was crying and screaming and punching my pillow--all the usual signs of grief. Then for a day or too, I thought I was okay. I was keeping it together. But for the last few days now, I'm not okay. I'm not as outwardly upset as I was at first. But I keep thinking about him. When I recognize that he's gone, it brings a lump to my throat and I say and think things like, "I wish you could come home." But the worst part is that I still keep thinking of him as alive. It's the emotional equivalent of missing the last step going down the stairs. I just get completely jarred and rattled, because one second I'm thinking about him like he's still there, and the next second I'm reminding myself that he's gone. It's like I start to feel normal again, but then normal ends up hurting me, because I forget that he's gone. I want to stop forgetting. I want to start adjusting to it. But everywhere I look in my apartment, I can see him. He was a huge part of my life, and it feels like there are significant parts of me that just aren't ready to accept the fact that he's gone. I want to accept it. I want to be able to remember my baby without feeling the emotional sucker punch that comes with it. I just don't know how to get there. Anyway, thanks for reading. To anyone else who is going through something similar, I'm sorry for your loss. My Shadow meant the world to me, so I know how much you're hurting right now too.
  3. Loss of four siblings

    This isn't the usual post because I didn't lose my siblings to a death, but because of a death. You see, I'm the youngest of five children - my parents divorced when I was young; my dad raised my brothers and my mother raised my sister and I. My brothers would visit often but wasn't in my life on a regular basis. I've lived in Ohio nearly all my 44 years of life. My mother has always been the most kind, caring and loving person you'd ever meet. Her life ended just three short weeks ago and I'm struggling with the lack of compassion my siblings have expressed. My mom had a stroke which left her paralyzed 20 years ago. The amount of care it took to keep her comfortable and safe was more than one person could handle. I'd ask my siblings to help, however that fell through. If we five could take turns caring for mom, she'd be comfortable and wouldn't need strangers pitching in. Well, after many attempts - many failed attempts, I took to a home health care company and set up daily visits to watch over mom while I was at work or dealing with my own family. I'd almost beg my siblings to help with mom. Sit with her, run to the store, laundry and or doctor visits - I'd be ignored or any excuse they'd come up with was given!! I finally gave up and took the role of her care giver on my own. I stood by her for the entire time. Not a day went by where we didn't talk or visit - I loved (and still do) this woman whole heartedly and unconditionally. Her physical condition might have changed but her being my mom didn't!!! June of 2014 the decision to move mom into a skilled nursing facility was made. This was the hardest decision of my life but her health was the main concern. I turned to my siblings again to help with moving her into the home as well as packing her house - no assistance (not like I'm surprised) - so my husband, my sons and myself moved my mom into the home and packed then moved her belongings to storage. I calculated her monthly bills and between us five, the total we'd pay would be $85 - only fair, right? Again, I'm let down by their lack of support. So for the entire time my mom was in the nursing home - I WAS ALONE in her care, her visits, laundry, etc. I visited her nearly every day and the smile on her face was enough to make any bad day disappear. She depended on me for her care and the day to day things a mother and daughter share. Three weeks ago today, I had to call hospice in for mother. Reaching out to my siblings to let them know mom's days were numbered - still no response. Yeah, my sister visited but it was a short 20 minute visit and was more focused on the new tattoo she got (yes, I asked her how much it cost because if she didn't have funds to help with moms bill, surely she didn't have money for a tattoo, right???) - sickening!! Mom died on March 10th - I was there with her and will forever remember how beautiful she looked. Her struggles were over - she was finally at peace My siblings have yet to show any signs of support - hell, they didn't even help with planning the funeral. And one brother wasn't even at the funeral! What's wrong with these people? Why am I struggling day to day with the loss of my mother and they seem to be 'okay' with her being gone? Do they truly NOT CARE? The one woman who is responsible for their being here is gone! Oh, they showed 'some' remorse towards her but it just seemed like another day to them. Heck, I was told by one brother that I should get over it and move one. So where am I going with this? When I walked away from mom's grave, I walked away from my siblings. Their lack of support through the years and the lack of love they showed towards mom is enough for me to distant myself from them. I've heard more excuses from them to last a lifetime. It is a shame to have such a big family yet I feel like an only child. I don't think I'll ever get over mom's death and I know I'll never find it in my heart to forgive them how they treated her. I know it's typical for one child to take on the care of an ill parent but this is extreme - two decades of ZERO help!!!
  4. I don't want to hear it

    I don't want to hear it any more. 1376677120
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