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Found 39 results

  1. My boyfriend suddenly passed on Dec. 23. He was 35 years old. We had been making love when he stopped suddenly to take a break because he was feeling he said "light headed." I asked if he wanted some water, he nodded yes, so I went to get him water and when I came back his face was red and he wasn't able to look at me, he was concentrated on a point on the wall and he wouldn't look at me, then he fell hard on his side and I ran for help. We called 9-1-1 and they arrived in under 5 min, during which time my father and I were doing our best to perform CPR (though it had been almost 5 years since I trained in CPR). The paramedics arrived, but honestly when we had been with him it had already seemed like he had passed. I can hardly breathe the grief is so palpable. I am rattled with guilt day in and day out - If I'd done a better job of CPR, if I'd called 9-1-1 the second he said he felt light headed, if, if, if... He was a healthy active 35 year old. He had been a smoker earlier in his life, and still used an E-cigarette, but other than that he was relatively a healthy normal guy. We had made love often so it's not like this was a new experience for us, or that his heart couldn't handle this sort of thing. He was also a runner and went to the gym regularly. I am just riddled with grief over the whole thing, I wake up panicked in the middle of the night that I could still do something or fix something or change something, and then the grief washes over me like a huge wave and I'm back to sadness and utter despair. We had only been dating for 5 months, but we knew. I always heard that when you meet the right one, you'll know. We knew. We said I love you only 2 months in. We went on a huge 2 week trip to Europe (so glad we did) 3 months into our relationship. He was home with me in Texas visiting my family for Christmas when this happened, so the guilt I feel over him being there and not in our home state (California) - and his family didn't know me very well so I'm just devastated. We all are. Why did this happen? People survive cardiac arrest and heart attacks all the time - why didn't he? Why wasn't there any time or sign or symptom that this was happening? Everything I've read about heart attacks says that people usually have a few moments where they know it's happening; it seems he bypassed the heart attack and went straight into cardiac arrest with no time to allow for help or rescue. I wake up nightly at 4am and I'm just lost. I journal, I try to watch TV, I walk around my apartment, but nothing settles this unsettling feeling that I miss my love so much I can't breathe, and while I know it's not true and irrational to keep blaming myself, I can't help but feel guilty over him no longer being with us.
  2. Please help me

    I know I’m going to get so much hate for this and I completely deserve it. I thought I was doing the right thing, please understand this. I had the best dog in the entire world, he had my heart. I rescued him from a home that was going to drown him. I almost had him 3 years but I killed him. I got too busy and it wasn’t fair to him. He loved me so much, and he didn’t want to be around anyone else. I gave him anti freeze. I know it’s wrong I know. I regret it so much. Please one again I thought I was doing the right thing because it wasn’t fair for him. I’d do anything to see him for 5 more minutes. I deserve it, but how do I stop feeling like this? Gods come into my life since and I’ve asked for forgiveness. I’d obviously never do something like this again and I’ll continue to regret it for the rest of My life
  3. My situation is very very difficult and it would take writing a book to get it all out so that people could understand. I will try to condense. At one time I was very close to my mother who died in October, but I had to walk away when she became very sick and started blaming me, making me her caregiver when I have a chronic illness myself. She was hostile for years, but at the end, it was out of control and it was making me sick. She would never ask my older brother for help, stating that he had a family. Nevermind that I am disabled and have a handicapped placard. When I was a child I knew my mom was difficult but just thought it was normal. She yelled at me at age 13 for being sick and coughing and vomiting at the same time. Eventually, I had to go into the hospital and was out of school for 3 months. My mom could not handle anxiety, and any stress. You weren't allowed to go to her about things. I was always called a "sensitive child." "You are too sensitive." At age 39 and her in her late 70's "This story you are telling me is boring." "You are dating someone? Don't tell me about them until you know for sure this will go somewhere. You have dated so many people!" Also, not wanting me to have a boyfriend due to it taking away from....HER. She was the caregiver to my dad who died of cancer and 6 months later in 1989, I became deathly ill with mono and hyperthyroidism. She was there in the beginning, but my illnesses that I developed quickly became too much for her to handle. I was a teenager going into my early 20's and heard how I drained her, how it made sense that my long term boyfriend broke up with me as I was "not the same girl he fell in love with." She was not supportive and then at other times would be. Years later she went to a psychiatrist and was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and narcissism. She was not told this, but I was. My mother got tired of the shrink bringing to her attention "her issues" so she stopped going. If I went to a therapist, "Do you talk about me to her or him? What do they say about me?" She became an alcoholic in her 60's. I was blamed for her drinking..."I wouldn't drink if you weren't ill. I wouldn't smoke either." Throughout all of this, I tried so hard to stay in her life and to have her as a mother, as my two siblings were and are so much older and never liked me. I was the baby (12 and 15 year age difference) and I was chronically sick with several AI diseases so they didn't like me, thought I was seeking attention and my brother in particular thought my mother spoiled me. She spoiled me by paying doctor bills. She had the money and even more importantly, my brother was well off and needed nothing (as in none of her money) and this was a constant issue with him in particular. My sister died in 2005 shifting the family dynamic and leaving me totally in charge of anything having to do with her. We shared a joint account and if she went in the hospital, it was almost expected that I was to do and be and so on. After years of this and abuse from her and my brother...I finally totally went into almost a mental nervous breakdown when in 2013, she had AFIb, an aneurysm and emphysema. For a year and a half before, my brother walked away...left me to deal with her solo therefore making me very angry because I was ill myself and then she decided to change the will and leave him hardly anything. She said she was doing this because I was ill and needed the money and he didn't, but why did she wait until age 83 to do this? I have been ill for decades. What happened next was, she almost died, he came after me about the will and she didn't want to tell him the truth. She basically was trying to throw me under the bus. To put it mildly, it was a nightmare of epic proportion. I am tiny, unwell, trying to work part time, my brother is a full on sociopath who went nuts on me. She later apologized but that was it for me. I never felt the same about her. My heart pumped ice for her and I had loved her so much in spite of everything. Having said that, I continued to do and take care of her, her finances, etc. I set up an annuity for her, I took her to the doctors and I remembered......she was not there for me when I was sick. I almost died in a hospital in California when I was 30. I was in ICU and she refused to fly to CA to be with me. I was there by myself. No family, nothing. I had strangers coming to visit. PTSD came in and I became very sick in 2015. I had to have wrist surgery and at the exact same time found out I had thyroid cancer. I decided to walk away from her and the whole family. She had become so abusive, my brother was poisoning her trying to get her to change the will, etc. I was deathly ill from the whole experience. The stress of their toxicity was enough. I had had it and decided to save myself. What a joke. When I tried to go back to her, she screamed at me. Not one family member cared that I had thyroid cancer. "So you have your thyroid removed, big deal." Both my sister and father died of cancer as well at two grandparents and one aunt and cousin. My family is cancer ridden. I stayed away from January 2017 until October of 2017. I was done. Tired of being kicked in the teeth. I let her go, them go and made peace with it to some extent, but honestly felt numb. I was in shock at how little anyone cared about me leaving and the very person who had walked away over and over again..my brother, was smearing my name to the entire family. It was absolute revenge. IF my mother did ask why I walked away and I tried to explain, it would end in her retaliating and screaming so I just said nothing. I had become silent. I had no voice. On my birthday in September, she called me twice. First time she left a message. I had blocked her from calling me. I still could see blocked messages. Never responded. Then, on October 7th, she fell and broke a femur. I was called and the hospital said she wanted me. I told them to call my brother. I had NO idea she broke a femur. A week later...she had a massive heart attack and two days later, died. I was at her bedside. She was unconscious and on a respirator. I never got the chance to say goodbye to a coherent person. I have been ostracized from the family. I was invited to the memorial and funeral but didn't go. I knew that I had been talked about so much that there was no point, plus...I was so confused about how I felt. My friend said to me, "When she was unconscious, you FINALLY got to tell her all that you felt without being interrupted." OMG..YES. Yes, to an incoherent person who's hands were tied to the bed. It was non stop tears for me at the hospital. Sobbing. I am either angry, numb or crying. This Thursday, I have to go and get the possessions that I asked for and that I was given the go to have. I was not allowed to do what I wanted the most. I wanted to go into her apartment right after her death. My asshole brother would not allow it for fear that I would steal something. My mother had very little valuables. I just wanted to sit in her place and smell her clothes. Nope. That was back in October. Nope. Didn't happen. My point is, I feel broken. I want to feel again. Feel joy. This was my first Christmas without her. Only one family member sent a card. No one else was in touch. I could care less about the immediate family. The extended, that's what hurts me. The whole thing is one big insane mess. I slept all day on Christmas Eve and Christmas I cried once and then made myself a good meal. I spent it alone out of choice. I was the one who for years had been there for her. No one else, just me. I did everything with her, for her, etc. She once exclaimed, "no one ever loved me as much as you." The irony. I am the one who walked away, stayed away and didn't come back until it was too late. I am suffering beyond belief. I have a good therapist, but honestly, nothing can really take away the pain. Heroine, maybe? Never done that drug, don't want to...but I would love to feel some sort of peace and happiness. It's only been 2 months. It feels like so long ago due to the fact that so much has happened. When I go over there this Thursday and Friday for the first time in 14 months, I will completely lose it. I hate this. I hate how this ended, how she left me, how the family has treated me and this was NEVER how I saw my mom exiting my life. I always thought I would be the one. The one there to the bitter end, by her bedside, wiping her brow. I walked away from all of that. I was the executor, POA, I walked away from it all to be free. I alleviated some stress, but not really. The stress that came in was realizing that I was not truly loved. I was just a person who only mattered as long as I was doing and taking care of everyone else. As soon as I decided to take care of myself, I was insignificant. I know that deep down my mother loved me. She had dementia at the end, but it was like her narcissism came out in full force in old age. To peace. Maybe one day. Wish me luck with getting her possessions. I want to hide them and not deal with them. No choice.
  4. Hi everyone, I'm posting this from Sweden so please excuse my sometimes broken English.. Here's my story..in 2013 my beloved Mother passed away suffering from pneumonia. She lived in a nursing home since a second stroke paralized her in 1998. The last night I was sitting by her bedside for some hours watching her breathe very hard and fast, no pauses. She was totally awake and alerte and the breathing had been going on for about 5 hours. Finally I rang the nurse and she came and gave my Mom 7.5 mg of Morphine and 5 mg of Stesolide( I don't know the word for this relaxing meds in English). After about 30 minutes I rang again in some kind of panic because I didn't think it eased the breathing that much. I was a fool thinking the meds would change my Mom's breathing... The nurse came again and I asked if she could have some more.. How I hate myself for this!!! The nurse said yes and gave her another injection and despite of what I thought and hoped for this seem to make her breathing more labored. I was in such denial, my brother and I had spoken to the doctor and the chief nurse earlier that day and asked them to try and save her, and we got some hope up, maybe there was a little chance she might live through this! Having had a sick Mother for 25 years, it was almost impossible to understand that this was it-she was going to die. Anyway, being in such a state of denial I went to bed thinking tomorrow was another day and we would try and save her. She died an hour after I went to bed and left her with a girl who worked there.. I torture myself every day for asking the nurse for more and then going to bed. I would have done everything to make this undone:( I feel totally devastated.
  5. Hi everyone, I'm posting this from Sweden so please excuse my sometimes broken English.. Here's my story..in 2013 my beloved Mother passed away suffering from pneumonia. She lived in a nursing home since a second stroke paralized her in 1998. The last night I was sitting by her bedside for some hours watching her breathe very hard and fast, no pauses. She was totally awake and alerte and the breathing had been going on for about 5 hours. Finally I rang the nurse and she came and gave my Mom 7.5 mg of Morphine and 5 mg of Stesolide( I don't know the word for this relaxing meds in English). After about 30 minutes I rang again in some kind of panic because I didn't think it eased the breathing that much. I was a fool thinking the meds would change my Mom's breathing, but I did hope it would... The nurse came again and I asked if she could have some more.. How I hate myself for this!!! The nurse said yes and gave her another injection and despite of what I thought and hoped for this seem to make her breathing more labored. I was in such denial, my brother and I had spoken to the doctor and the chief nurse earlier that day and asked them to try and save her, and we got some hope up, maybe there was a little chance she might live through this! Having had a sick Mother for 25 years, it was almost impossible to understand that this was it-she was going to die. Anyway, being in such a state of denial I went to bed thinking tomorrow was another day and we would try and save her. She died an hour after I went to bed and left her with a girl who worked there.. I torture myself every day for asking the nurse for more and then going to bed. I would have done everything to make this undone:( I feel totally devastated.
  6. Hello everyone, Hi my name is Sanduni from Wadduwa Sri Lanka. I lost my dearest cat on 15th of December 2017 at about 8.55pm. I feel very guilty about his death. Let me share the story with you. Right now my mind is not in its right place and I hope sharing this story will help me. In 2016 Sepetember I found to be exact I rescued this little beautiful kitten who was such a good foodie. I was glad I rescued him because I had no idea where his siblings or mother is. He would have died then unless I rescued him. He was fed always and taken good care. But with my occupation I could not keep up with the VET appointments. Because by the time I get home Vet is not there in the clinic or am just too lazy get to the Vet. I should have not being lazy. He got bitten by another cat (didn't see, I assume because of a wound he had) and fell I'll two months ago. Loss his appetite, his activeness and playfull nature. I didn't know why this is happening and he had fever too. When I took him to the Vet, the Vet said it's a virus which is common in that area and gave some vaccinations and meds to be given orally. Oral treatments were impossible with my little kitty. When he refuse to drink meds I also gave up. I feel so guilty for that. It's my fault that his sickness became worse. In the meantime I went to the Vet again on 2nd of December because he doesn't eat or drink anything. I requested for a blood check and the Vet said vaccination will be enough. She had known it's tick fever but she never mentioned it to me. She just told me to bring him for vaccinations contunuously for gov months as oral medication was impossible with my kitty. And the kitty seemed quite okay after that dose of vaccinations and me not knowing it's tick fever and anything about tick fever, didn't take his condition very seriously. I feel very guilty for I didn't take his condition seriously like I should have. I feel very guilty for not being able to take him to vaccinations when I should have. I wish the Vet explained me what is going on from the beginning so I would have stayed home and taken him to vet or done something or the other. And on 15th he was extremely weak and didn't eat or drink much. He was cold and I again took him to vet. Then she took a blood sample and reports were to come on 16th. But that night he died. I cant stop thinking about him. Sometimes I wish I die soon. I wish to get killed by a vehicle on the road or something. This is so much for to hold. Always question the VET about the slightest thing and every fever every sickness is equally important to be treated and negligence can cause a lot of pain like what am going through now. That's the lesson I learnt. I hope my Kitty Cat will have a great life in the next life. And I hope this will never happen to any other cat and a Cat owner.
  7. Feeling guilt

    I lost my cat, Tumbles on November 7th 2017. It will be one week tomorrow. Now that the shock has settled in, I am starting to feel guilt. For quite some time. Tumbles would throw up every now and then. I worried, but my boyfriend, who also has cats of his own, assured me he probably ate too quick or maybe change his food bc he might not like it. So I relaxed a little, and told myself if he showed other signs I will take him to the vet. Well, he didn’t. But I started to smell something weird in my bedroom. I cleaned, mopped, and eventually found cat poop and assumed maybe one of my kitties ( I have two) accidentally brought it in with them from the litter box bc it’s right outside my room. August 2017 however, I was getting ready for a wedding, and I saw Tumbles poop in my room. Because I was anxious about running late, I freaked out, but later of course hugged him to show I wasn’t mad. It was then that month that I took him to the vet only to realize he had Jaudice. the vet prescribed medication, steroids and assured us it’s possible he could be cured. But he did end up passing away last week. i tried everything I could, but I feel guilty for not helping him sooner. I did everything, spend so much money in the end and was by his side constantly, I’m not just regretting what I didn’t do :/
  8. Hello, I don’t really know how to begin, or what to say. I’ve never felt anything like this, in my life, and I am a sensitive and emotional person, in the first place. This pain is almost immeasurable, it feels surreal. Last Tuesday, my soul mate died, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I absolutely hate myself, the guilt is killing me, and I just wish that I could be with her, again, and spend eternity with her, because the thought of death with her is so much better than the thought of living without her. Cleo was 19 when she died. She lived a long life, filled with love. She was the most beautiful, loving, and sensitive cat, I have ever known. She was perfect, and unique, and all her quirks that irritated others, just made me love her all the more. She was basically a self-imposed house cat. Despite constant access to the outdoors, she preferred to go out only with human company. Mostly mine. She was a family cat, but everyone knew that mine and Cleo’s love was like no other. I was her favourite, and she is mine, above all others. We had a bond and connection to each other, that I cannot even begin to think of describing with words, alone. It was just.. she was, and is, part of me. We understood each other. I didn’t look at her as a cat; she was Cleo. A beautiful, gorgeous, loving, radiant, hilarious, adorable, chubby, sensitive, warm spirit, that changed my life. I could never bring myself to fully contemplate what would happen when she died, but I never imagined that I wouldn’t be there for her. Last December, I moved to Denmark to be with my Danish boyfriend, since, fiancé. With Cleo’s advancing age in mind, her well-managed chronic kidney disease, and her nervous and sensitive disposition, particularly to change, it would have been cruel to ask her to endure any kind of relocation, let alone to Denmark. From apparent stress, she once lost all the fur on her bottom half, making it appear as though she’d forgotten to put on her trousers, which was equally the most adorable and upsetting thing to see. She was just so beautifully sensitive. I wasn’t going to put her through any kind of upset, if at all possible. She would be more comfortable, secure, and safe within the walls and garden of her lifelong home, with my parents to look after her. Every day, I carried a sense of guilt that I had left her behind. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. She was, and is, my one love, my light, my soul mate. There were nights where my fiancé had to rock me like a baby, as I sobbed desperately in his arms, over the distance I had created between Cleo and I. I just wanted to be with her, for her to be with me, for me to be with her. It broke my heart, every day. I would gaze lovingly at the framed photo I have of her, I would speak to her on FaceTime when contacting my parents, but it just wasn’t enough. I had seen her for three weeks in April, and for one week in the middle of August, and each time, it was increasingly impossible to leave her. Yet, leave I did. Last Tuesday, I received a FaceTime call from my Dad. It was odd that the call came through, considering my iPad was locked and set to 'do not disturb'. In some way, I feel like it was Cleo and our love that allowed the call to come through. Furthermore, the day before, I had heard a cat meow outside the doors to the flats. It wasn’t Cleo’s meow, but it was a meow. I looked outside, and there was nothing there. I wonder if, in some way, this, too, was a sign. The call was to carry the news I never wished or hoped to hear. The darkest day in my life had arrived. She was fading rapidly, she could no longer move the back half of her body, she could not and would not eat or drink, despite efforts to hydrate her using a syringe, she just could not do it. My heart broke irreparably in that very second. I am so grateful to my parents for including me as much as they physically could, for giving me the chance to say goodbye in the only way possible, given the circumstances. They warned me that she was to be taken to the vets, and that it was highly likely she would not come home, alive. I mustered up everything within me to whistle her favourite songs. She was always so responsive to whistling, and she was a Disney girl at heart. In the last couple of years, as her health changed, she took little interest in these songs. However, as I sat there, tears streaming, breath unsteady, I was able to give my rendition of 'Part of Your World'. She had been unresponsive for hours, and yet.. she was trying to lift up her head.. the twinkle of recognition palpable, despite her being near lifeless. My Dad couldn’t believe it. That moment means the absolute universe, to me. Next, I tried 'Colors of the Wind', but my sobs made it near impossible. It was the greatest joy to be able to give her that gift, and for her to know it was from me. I sent all my love to her, I spoke to her in loving, yet undeniably heartbroken, tones, I said everything I could think to say, all the verbal tokens of love that I had always said. But it just wasn’t enough. I asked my Dad to stroke her as I said them, to give her the kiss that I would have given, though I would not have been able to stop kissing her. I even tried to stroke the screen, as if she would feel my fingers on her skin. At one point, she was miraculously able to lift herself up to see the screen, and I have never seen anything like it, in my life. It absolutely shatters my whole existence. It is the most beautiful and heart wrenching thing, I have ever seen. That face.., she looked so different in that moment, I have never seen her look like that, before, those eyes... so large, so close to death, and so full of life and love. It’s too much. It’s too beautiful. Given the circumstances, and with eternal thanks to my parents, I did all that I could. But it wasn’t enough. I will never get to hear her, see her, smell her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, lie with her, whistle for her, feel her love and envelope her in mine, ever again.. . I couldn’t hold her paw, as my dad did for me, as she died, I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I will never be with her, again, not on earth, and it is breaking me. I am completely overcome with grief, and guilt. The guilt is corroding my heart, I have a constant physical pain. I feel as though I left her, abandoned her... that she must have hated me, she can’t have known why I wasn’t there. All she knows is that I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. I absolutely despise myself. I honestly feel like the worst human being who has ever lived. I should have never moved to Denmark, I should have waited until she had gone, because I knew she was old, and I knew she had an illness. I am disgusting. I keep begging her to forgive me, but I know I don’t deserve it. I keep saying sorry, I keep hoping she will show me, in some way, that she is okay. In the early hours of Monday morning, I felt a warmth between my legs as I lay cross-legged, and as I sat up, I felt as though I was able to pick up this warmth, and cradle it. I am almost convinced it was my mind trying to create some sort of comfort, but there is part of me that feels as though it was my Cleo, and just in case it was, I spoke to her. I said everything I wanted to say, and afterwards, I felt a coolness pass over my face. I noticed a shift in me, in that moment, which brought me some relief. But since then, I have completely relapsed into a suicidal state. I have panic attacks from the grief, and when I’m not crying, I just exist in a black hole of misery. I will never be able to forgive myself or live with myself for leaving my baby. It has been especially difficult, as my fiancé is currently working offshore, so I have had to experience this, alone. He has been amazing, through Skype calls, and he has written me the most beautiful words to try and help me see things in a different way. I couldn’t have asked for more support. My parents, who can sometimes be emotionally distant, have been wonderful, and have, obviously, been greatly touched by her death, also. I am doing as much research as I can, I have created online photo albums, made videos from the photos, I listen to her favourite song, I have gathered a few momentos to comfort myself as I try to sleep. Luckily, I have a blanket with me that she slept on, many times, which I have been holding at night. My fiancé made the suggestion that we hold a memorial when he is back, and find a lovely spot to place some memories. I am planning on framing more photos, and painting a picture of her, as I have in the past, and getting some items printed using photos of her, such as a cushion cover, and iPad case. Also, I am planning to crochet a little toy to represent her. When I spoke to Cleo for the last time, I made suggestions of items we could keep with her, such as a bib I had crocheted for her as a little joke, which she surprisingly enjoyed, a kitchen sponge, as she used to frequently 'murder' them, and call to let us know what a vicious killer she was, an Autumn leaf, as she used to mercilessly kill these, too. Some daisies, as we used to play and make chains with them, a tea bag, as she used to love finishing off a cup of tea using her paw, and other little knickknacks that speak of her personality, and our time together. I feel like all these things should add up to some way of coping, but I cannot cope. The guilt is killing me. I need to somehow atone for my disgraceful behaviour. I have begun looking at cat rescue centres. We are planning to move to a flat that allows pets, and, knowing that I will be able to give an adult cat with a hard life a home and the love it deserves, does help, somewhat. But my Cleo. I left her, and I never wanted to, I never intended to. Yet, I did. I truly am a monster, I don’t know how to live with this feeling. I would infinitely rather be with her than live without her. I apologise for the essay I’ve written.. I doubt many people will want to read it.. but for those of you that do, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and wish you all the best on your own journeys to recovery after losing our best friends and soul mates.
  9. Hi, My mum died about 6 months ago quite suddenly and I feel like it's my fault. My mum had mental health issues and would drink when it got very bad, and one night I came home and she was drunk and having issues. She went to bed to sleep it off and I went downstairs to watch television. Usually my mum would get u a couple times throughout sleeping to go to the bathroom and I'd hear her walking the landing, but that didn't happen this time. I realise a few hours after she went to bed she was being quiet and I thought that was strange (and I can't remember if I thought "what if something is wrong") but I didn't do anything, didn't go check, just went back to doing whatever I was doing downstairs. Later my dad came home (he had been home earlier and helped my mum to bed) and had something to eat and then went to check on my mum because he thought she was being quiet (not walking on the landing etc) too and when he went to check she had passed away in her sleep. I feel bad. I feel awful. I feel like it is my fault for not checking on her, especially if I did have the thought "what if something is wrong" though I can't remember if I did think that. What if I had checked and she had still been alive and I could have helped her? I literally thought it was weird she was quiet but didn't do anything. I don't know what to do now. I'll never know so I'll never be okay with it I guess. What do I do?
  10. My Dad died a year ago on my birthday. It was very hard on me, because we were very close and like minded, and I had to take him off of life support. It took 6 months for me to stop spontaneously crying. Yesterday was the one year mark. I feel like my heart has shattered all over again. I'm angry, broken, and lost. I tried to rely on my fiancee, but he has proven to be...unreliable. My mom relies on me for everything now, and I have to be her rock. It feels like the world is caving in around me, and I don't know what to do.
  11. My oldest sister passed away

    My oldest sister passed away 10 months ago from cancer & the effects of chemotherapy. My whole family is struggling, & so am I. Of course, we pray, as we are Christians. Has anyone joined a group for grief support (not online, in person)? I have been unable to join one yet due to social anxiety & depression. Nearly everyone seems to have forgotten that we are living with this terrible loss. It is so hard, living without our precious sister & second mother. I am glad she isn't suffering terribly anymore, because she really suffered tremendously. I just miss her so much! I feel guilty for yelling at her a few times when I was trying to help care for her, though I was very stressed & exhausted. I should never have yelled at my wonderful sister, who was so sick. I am angry at myself, honestly mad sometimes at God for letting her die, & possibly angry at my sister for not getting to the doctor sooner. Thank you to any who have gone to group therapy for grief support who can tell me if it has helped. May God bless & comfort all on here!
  12. It's been almost 3 months since I lost my mom. Everybody keeps telling me to be patient, to let time heal, but things are just getting worse for me. And I've tried to cope with it, but it just keeps coming back. I'm more a spiritual than religious type of person and I'm seeing a shaman. I've been working with her, it's better at times, but there are days when I just feel I can't go on. My mother was my best friend, my sister, my soulmate, my all. She was my rock, the person to which I turned to every time, the person who gave me strength, the only person to whom I gave all the love I was capable of. I found out that she had cancer in January, when it was already too late and I decided to not tell her immediately because I was afraid. She believed that once one gets cancer, there is no escape from dying and she was also a person who, once she had her mind set to something, that thing would happen. So I wanted to try to keep her in a positive mindset for as long as I could. It was the first time I lied to her sincer I was a kid. After a while, it got out, I told her a part of it and things started getting worse. Afterwards, I told her everything and in about 2 weeks, she died. I blame myself for taking this route but I don't know if I would have done it the other way around, I don't know if things would have been better if I would have told her from the start. But the most awful thing is that the last two months were filled with anger and a lot of disputes. Meaning exactly the opposite from how we were before. And this just kills me. I was trying to explain that all cancers have also emotional causes and that she should change, that she should think more about herself (my mom always thought about before thinking what's best for her), that she should try solving those issues. And she was asking me to be patient, because maybe we have time, and I was not because I was desperate and afraid and I knew that time mattered. And from this we always started to quarrel. I don't have regrets when it comes to my relationship with my mom, but I have a lot of regrets related to the last period spent with my mom. I could have just shut up and not try to tell her what I think she should do, I could have just renounced trying to change her. I had faith she would get better until the end, I was trying also in the few hours in which she was in a coma. Because I just couldn't stop. But I don't know how to live with myself knowing that the last months with my mom where how they where, that I didn't offer her the understanding and the support that she needed. Because I think that in the last period she wanted to be left alone, to die. My mom was always there for me, she knew how to cheer me up, she knew how to support me, she knew what to say to make it all better. She was always there when I needed her, when I was sick, she always made me better or knew what to do or where to take me to solve the problem. She always figured out a solution and I didn't when it came to her needing me. I couldn't save my mom and offer her what she needed, when it was my turn to do it. And I just don't know how I can get used to living with this. Does someone here have a piece of advice? Thank you and I really hope that somehow, each and every person here will find his or her peace.
  13. My mom was a hypocondriac. She asked me about all sorts of things, related to disease. Her main concerns where diabetes, blood cluts, heart failure. Whenever i talked with her, she would feel the need to talk about her concerns. She wouldent let it go, untill i listened. When she came by, she wanted me to look at things on her skin. She pressured me to look at it, for several times. When i said i couldent stand it anymore, she would just keep showing it. Look, don't it look like something serious, she would say. The weekend before she died, she sounded serious. Like she really was concerned about her health. But then again, she was a hypocondriac i thought. They really are concerned all the time. It's not a joke to them. She kept going on and on, about i really think i am dying. I think something is wrong with my heart. Please listen. I thought it was a new strategy to pressure me, to listen. She said something similar before, but in a different tone. In the past she sounded frightened. This time, frightened, but calm. I was so tired of listening, i just finally said. If you really think so, maybe it could be this time. Maybe you in fact should get it checked out. She asked me once (i can't remember if it was before or after the conversation above) if i would go with her to the doctor. She rarely asked me that, so i was a bit concerned. I was so tired of her, i just said. Is it really somehting this time? Don't you think you just need to relax? She was scared of doctors. We went once many years ago to the emergency room, where she was convinced she was dying. They checked her out, and said she was fine. They told her it was anxiety. I was used to her having axiety. Both panic attacks and servere anxiety about her health. I talked with her about the anxiety, and all the stress, maybe could cause all of these symptoms she had. I didden't know which symptoms i should take seriously, because she would read about them online, untill she suddenly convinced herself that she had the symptoms. Are the symptoms real or imagination or anxiety? i thought. The days after, she kept going on talking about symptoms, and i got annoyed and hung up the phone. The day before she died, she got mad at me and wouldent pick up the phone. I got a bad feeling, where is was a 100 pct. convinced she would die the next day. I told myself. Just stop it. Your mind is sick from anxiety, from constant worrying if she would actually die all the time. Then i thought it was a healthy sign, that she kept holdning on to her anger toward me. If she really was that ill, which i suddenly was concerned about. She couldent continue to be so angry i thought. I thought about pcking up the phone. The strongest feeling i ever had, told me to text her. You are going to die tomorrow, if you dont act. I never thought about texting anything like that ever before. Then i thought. Why would she die so suddenly? I can talk to her tomorrow and tell her how i feel. She always said, tell me if you get a bad feeling that i will die. I didden't, because i ignored my bad feelings. Why would she die? she was oly 51. I keep thinking about i had that strong feeling, like never before that she would die and i diddent act. WHY??? WHY diddent i listen to her, when in fact i was concerned?
  14. My mom was a hypocondriac. She asked me about all sorts of things, related to disease. Her main concerns where diabetes, blood cluts, heart failure. Whenever i talked with her, she would feel the need to talk about her concerns. She wouldent let it go, untill i listened. When she came by, she wanted me to look at things on her skin. She pressured me to look at it, for several times. When i said i couldent stand it anymore, she would just keep showing it. Look, don't it look like something serious, she would say. The weekend before she died, she sounded serious. Like she really was concerned about her health. But then again, she was a hypocondriac i thought. They really are concerned all the time. It's not a joke to them. She kept going on and on, about i really think i am dying. I think something is wrong with my heart. Please listen. I thought it was a new strategy to pressure me, to listen. She said something similar before, but in a different tone. In the past she sounded frightened. This time, frightened, but calm. I was so tired of listening, i just finally said. If you really think so, maybe it could be this time. Maybe you in fact should get it checked out. She asked me once (i can't remember if it was before or after the conversation above) if i would go with her to the doctor. She rarely asked me that, so i was a bit concerned. I was so tired of her, i just said. Is it really somehting this time? Don't you think you just need to relax? She was scared of doctors. We went once many years ago to the emergency room, where she was convinced she was dying. They checked her out, and said she was fine. They told her it was anxiety. I was used to her having axiety. Both panic attacks and servere anxiety about her health. I talked with her about the anxiety, and all the stress, maybe could cause all of these symptoms she had. I didden't know which symptoms i should take seriously, because she would read about them online, untill she suddenly convinced herself that she had the symptoms. Are the symptoms real or imagination or anxiety? i thought. The days after, she kept going on talking about symptoms, and i got annoyed and hung up the phone. The day before she died, she got mad at me and wouldent pick up the phone. I got a bad feeling, where is was a 100 pct. convinced she would die the next day. I told myself. Just stop it. Your mind is sick from anxiety, from constant worrying if she would actually die all the time. Then i thought it was a healthy sign, that she kept holdning on to her anger toward me. If she really was that ill, which i suddenly was concerned about. She couldent continue to be so angry i thought. I thought about pcking up the phone. The strongest feeling i ever had, told me to text her. You are going to die tomorrow, if you dont act. I never thought about texting anything like that ever before. Then i thought. Why would she die so suddenly? I can talk to her tomorrow and tell her how i feel. She always said, tell me if you get a bad feeling that i will die. I didden't, because i ignored my bad feelings. Why would she die? she was oly 51. I keep thinking about i had that strong feeling, like never before that she would die and i diddent act. WHY??? WHY diddent i listen to her, when in fact i was concerned?
  15. My poor cat died a few days ago and I feel so guilty. He was my first ever pet and I loved him so much. The worst thing was he died in the cattery while I was on holiday so I don't feel like I even got to say goodbye to him. I hadn't realised that he was ill so this has come as a great shock to me and I'm struggling to come to terms with him not being here with me as he was a very cuddly cat who was always by my side when he wasn't out playing. In hindsight I feel I should have realised that he was ill, but he didn't seem to be acting too much out of character and was his usual cuddly self. I just can't stop feeling guilty and wishing he was still here with me and that I could have done more for him. I hope he knew how much I loved him and didn't think I'd abandoned him.
  16. To anyone who reads this, thank you for taking the time to do so. It has been over a year since mum died, yet today was one the worst days yet. In the early afternoon, while working on materials for class - I teach adults in the evening - I started getting so angry. For some reason the computer kept printing the non-cropped version of a document, and I couldn't figure out why. Time was getting away, stress levels were rising, and I could see I'd barely have enough time to iron a shirt for work. Later, when I was finally able to do that, something happened. Can't remember what it was now, but I lost it. Threw anything I could get my hands on across the room, and then was consumed by guilt and self-loathing. I actually beat myself with my fists, and finally started weeping. I retreated to my bed where I wept and cried out to God, "When are you going to start helping me?". Repeatedly I screamed silently, my body totally rigid, and then screamed into my pillow, using it to muffle the sound. It was a close run thing, but finally I pulled myself together and went to work, making it there just in time to start class. First ten minutes or so was extremely hard, but after that, thank goodness, disassociation set in and the rest of the night went well. At the end of the evening, when a student was asking me questions, I realized that I didn't want them to stop, didn't want them to leave, because then I knew I'd have to face it all again. Sure enough, by the time I got home, the feeling of grief was overwhelming again. I called a friend, talked for a while, but then suddenly couldn't handle it anymore, just had to get off the phone. It was like a heavy weight was pulling me down into the earth, and I just couldn't do it, couldn't talk anymore. I couldn't give anymore, react in ways that conversations require. It was like an anxiety attack, I could feel panic growing within me, a growing urgency to get off that phone. No idea why. It feels like life is over for me. These days I don't want to do anything, or go anywhere, just work because I have to - and need to - and the rest of the time stay home with the world locked out. I have the phone turned to silent all the time, I can't remember the last time I answered it. I use an answering machine to screen calls, just in case there's a call I can't ignore. When I'm not working, I'll turn off my mobile phone so I don't have to deal with that either. Last few days I've been sleeping longer, but unfortunately not getting to sleep until around 3am, which of course means waking up around midday and having little time for marking student writing, lesson preparation etc. And I seem to feel more tired when I wake up than when I went to sleep. Writing is becoming more difficult now, long pauses in between sentences. There's a growing sense of inertia within me. Increasingly, I find myself just sitting here, staring into the distance, not actually seeing anything, feeling like I could do so forever, and never move again. Going to force myself to look at some student writing in the hopes it will distract me, tire me, and that as a result I'll soon go to bed. As before, I'm not asking for anyone to make me feel better - an impossibility as far as I'm concerned. There's nothing anyone can do. I just appreciate you being there. Thank you again for reading. Take care, David.
  17. A week or so before my Dad's death (November 2016) I had a huge argument with him, because he said I didn't respect him and I told him I didn't because of how he had treated me earlier in the year when I told him I had anxiety. I called him a coward for not talking to me about it, he said I wasn't part of the family. He was in the worst stages of his liver cancer. He cringed in pain as I shouted at him saying he was a coward for not being able to talk to me and he said I would regret this moment when I saw him being buried in a coffin and preceded to walk upstairs and say he didn't know how he could give birth to something so evil. Around the time my Dad was diagnosed with cancer, the very beginning of 2016, was when I told him about my anxiety and he (quite understandably) rejected it and said it was nothing (which is in fact right, who gives a **** about anxiety, he told me to forget about it, the very cure to anxiety in fact). But after that I hated him for the rest of the year, all throughout his chemo and travels to India for further chemo, I ignored him and resented him. I spent as little time with him as possible, I focused on other things such as my future, thinking if my Dad doesn't care about me I'll at least care about myself. My Dad has always been my God. But this last year all I've felt is hate. I numbed myself completely, I haven't felt any real emotion in months - really years. Now I hate myself. There is no way I can recover from this. My Dad died hating me and being ashamed of me. I can't move on from this.
  18. Hi all, I'm new to this site, and not entirely sure how it works, but I hope it is a chance to share and learn from others. I'm a 28 year old male working abroad. A few months ago I learned by email that the police had found my mother dead inside our house (we live in the countryside of upstate NY). She had been living alone for several months. She spent her share of her retirement money in a matter of months (she was 59) and no longer had any money to pay for electricity. As the winter months began, with no electricity she was unable to heat the house, and she died of hypothermia. The police found her after a neighbor noticed little activity coming from the house for several weeks. My parents had recently divorced after my mother, who had been on medication for bipolarism/manic depression, suddenly refused to take her medication anymore. From what I understand, life at home became horrible for my father, and he was eventually forced out of the home after my mother made a false claim to the police that he had raped her. She took half of the retirement money and spent it all in a matter of months on installing new lockable windows and barricading the driveway. She also bought new furniture and an expensive lamp. As time went on she refused any help from anyone, and when my parents divorced in August, she was really on her own. The last time I spoke to her was last April, on the phone. She really wanted me to come home for the summer and offered to pick me up. I did not give a clear answer. I was so concerned about her ability to take care of herself, but I was also afraid if what she might do to me if I came home. With so much instability and danger in that situation, I decided to not come home for the summer. That was the last conversation I had with my mother. The last time I saw her was December 1.5 years ago, being driven away by the police to a hospital where she would get examined for rape. I thought a lot about calling her again to check in, but I wanted to distance myself from the crazy family situation. When the electricity got caught off in September, I suppose there would have been no way to contact her, as the phone would not have worked. I overall feel little towards the death of my mother except guilt, sadness for her wasted life, and wonder at the idea that someone who was once breathing and talking is now a pile of ash (her body was cremated). I haven't cried yet. I don't know if I'm repressing feeling, or if I genuinely feel nothing. It's still hard for me to believe that this even happened.
  19. Dear all, I´m writing this from Sweden, so please excuse my sometimes broken English.. My beloved Mother died in 2013 and about half a year after her death I began to realize what has happened, and started to feel that I caused her death in a way. This is destroying my life and I don´t know how to live with myself, I cannot accept and move on. Here´s my story: My Mom had suffered from a stroke and got paralysed in 1998. Since then she lived in a nursing home. When she died she had pneumonia which did´t respond very well to the antibiotics they gave her. The nurse came to us one day and said that this is it, we will now focus on palliative care since her body isn´t responding and she also couldn´t take the food or liquid they gave her. This was very hard for me and my brother to accept.She was lying in her bed now but she looked like she normally did, though her breathing was strange sometimes during the nights when I sat by her bedside. The last night she was breathing very fast and deep, but she was alert and totally awake.After a few hours I asked the nurse to give her something to calm her down, and I think she gave her an injection of Morphine and Stesolide ( I don´t know if that name exists in English), I think she may got a little calmer and it took the worst edge of the breathing, but it was still very hard and fast.After 30 minutes or so I rang the bell again and asked the nurse if she could have some more, I don´t understand how I could do that!!! It´s like I didn´t understand the side effects of Morphine, how dangerous it is.The nurse said that Mom could get a little more.When she came with that second injection I saw my Mom ´s panic and she tried to express it to me, but used as I was to take decisions for my Mom all the time ( she couldn´t speak) I thought that is still was alright, if the nurse agreed there must be a reason, and now maybe my Mom could calm down and get some rest ( I still hadn´t accepted that she was going to die, still tried to save her!). And then, God forgive me, I went to bed and left my Mom in the care of the staff:( I was in such denial... Now I punish myself every day with guilt, I have destroyed my Mom´s death and I have destroyed my own life. I tried later to get in contact with the nurse, but she hasn´t respond to my questions on how she could give her more Morphine despite all her knowledge about medications. People talk about guilt, and I know that everyone feels guilty when a parent dies, but in my case I have a true gulit, I did do something that caused my beloved Mom´s death. She might have lived two more days, and we could all have said our goodbyes, my brother wasn´t there that night and I went to bed..this is bringing me down, I don´t know how I can live with this.. Please if there´s anyone out there who has been in the same situation or have some thoughts on this please let me know. Thank You.
  20. Loss of my Cat

    I am really struggling with the death of my 15 year old cat, Moo. I made the choice to put him down on Wednesday after a long happy life together. We were best friends. I got him for my tenth birthday, we did everything together. I knew he had kidney disease, but I had him on a special diet and medication until he started bleeding from his back end on Tuesday. We went to the vet and he told me it would cost thousands to just figure out what exactly was causing him so much discomfort. He stopped eating, drinking. But part of me still thinks I made a horrible choice to end his life. He wasn't looking good but I keep thinking, what if he got better. The vet gave me an option to take him home for a few weeks with new medication, but it likely wouldn't have worked. I feel so guilty for it. What if he had more time here and I took it away from him. The thought of never seeing him again kills me. If anyone has any advice, it might help me...
  21. Loss of my little Sister

    Loss my little Sister on the 18th to a drug overdose, had her funeral yesterday and it all still seems so unreal to me, I am feeling so much guilt, I feel that I should have done more to try and help her and my biggest fear is that my daughter will be next, I have called the crisis intervention team on my sister and they kept her for three days and released her. My family and I have tried and tried talking to them both, tried to get them to get the help that they need, needed but it's like it goes in one ear and out the other, they seem, seemed like an empty walking shell with no, heart, no morals, no common sense. I am afraid of what's going to happen when it sinks in that my little sister is gone, as of right now it still feels as if I am stuck in a bad dream, I don't know what to think, say, or do
  22. Hello. I have lost my mother last November. It still feels like the day I lost her. Even worse, if it's possible. I constantly think about the little things she asked me to do and I put off. Mean things I've said to her that could have upset her. All the things I didn't do for her. She was the most loving, selfless person I know and in the end she did not receive the love she deserved in time. Her death was sudden. She wasn't even that sick. She was supposed to get her gall stone removed and return to her normal life in a week. Now I mourn every day, every minute for her future that was robbed. I don't think I can live with myself.
  23. How Do I Get Past the Guilt?

    My beloved cat, Starbuck, died on Monday, January 16th. He was diagnosed with cancer about a week prior, and the vets at his care center gave him his first chemo treatment the day after diagnosis. Starbuck's full story can be found here : Starbuck's GoFundMe Page (we are no longer seeking donations). Long story short (unless you followed the link), Starbuck got better, then worse, then a little better, then even worse, and through it all, the doctors continued to give me hope, saying things like, "If we can just get him over this hump, the chemo can do its work", and "If we can just get food in him for a few days, he'll be much more stable." I just wanted my kitty to live a little longer, and it seemed like a real possibility, the way they explained it, and all the research I did online seemed to support what they were saying. But after we'd spent $6000 on blood transfusions and a feeding tube and meds and oxygen and ultrasounds and centesis and hospitalization, we ran out of money. The vet called me Monday morning to check in, and let me know Starbuck was doing about the same. I informed him that we had to bring Starbuck home at this point, because we were flat broke. He said he'd write up some detailed instructions for home care. My dog died in November of 2016, we'd had to have her euthanized at this same veterinary facility. The cost was $900. My four children and I got Starbuck home around 1pm. He was MUCH worse off than I'd been led to believe. He was pitiful, and it was obvious he did not have long. My kids were seeing this first hand, and with the exception of one holdout, we agreed that Starbuck needed to be put to sleep, as a kindness. The one holdout, my oldest son, was fully on board with euthanasia by the time of Starbuck's death, which was at 2:30. Until the last minute, he'd still had hope we might find some more money, or that one more dose of medicine might help, or maybe if we waited long enough, Starbuck would improve. He was grasping for any straw out there, he wanted his kitty to live, and I love him for it. Unfortunately, we never had time to act on the euthanasia plan, even though I had found someone to come to our home and do it, at a price my parents were willing to pay, due to our current financial situation. I had read up on ways to comfort a sick and dying cat, and we'd prepared our home in every way we possibly could. He had a cozy bed and blankets in a warm, quiet, draft-free part of the house. His water dish and litter box were right at hand. We had quiet nature sounds playing, and soft, indirect lighting for him to see by. There was room for all of us to gather around him and pet him. We had tried to see to Starbuck's every comfort, and between the five of us, we were ready to provide round the clock care. It wasn't enough. His ending was awful. We were all there, petting him, telling him we loved him, saying that it was okay to stop fighting and let go. He gasped his last breath surrounded by loved ones, but it wasn't peaceful, it wasn't dignified, and I wished to god I'd had enough time to arrange a better ending for him. He was such a good kitty, he was so sweet and gentle and funny, he was so LOVED, and he didn't deserve to die like that, to spend his last moments on earth in distress and pain. I can't stop seeing it over and over in my mind, and it hurts more than anything I've ever experienced. How do I get past this? I can't sleep, I can't eat, and everything I see reminds me of Starbuck. I'm a useless person while I'm consumed with this much grief and guilt, and I want to get better. What do I do?
  24. Hello everyone, I lost our beautiful mum on the 4th of Oct 2016. It all started suddenly with fever, 103.6 degrees, nausea, diarrhoea after that she did not pass Urine for a day or bowel movement. She was totally fine except type two diabetes and hypotension. We were in India at that time and unfortunately there was a dengue and chucungunya epidemic. We went to family doctor he didn't order bloods and by symptom he told us it sss chucungunya which my aunt recently had.!she had a real bad joint pain also which is a symptom. On the fourth day she started getting worse and had a severe abdominal pain and was short of breath. She did t want to go to the doctor or in emergency. She was so bad that she could not move we finally called the ambulance who took her to hospital. The local doctor ordered tests on day four and everything was OK according to him and he now said it was a viral and the only issue was low platelet count. She had stopped eating and drinking water by day 4 -!; 5. When we reached hospital they said her platelet count was dangerously low 95,000 they ran tests and said her creatinine and potassium were sky high which meant her kidneys had failed they were only working10%. They said this was due to some infection but it'd take time to figure out until then she was put on anibiotics inserted a catheter to mesusrd Urine output and was given meds and food through pipes in her neck. The only was to purify her blood was through dialysis. On second day X ray came and they said she had air leaking out of her Intestine. Even when we reached hospital they did tell us she was really really sick, her kidneys were bad transplant was not an option as she was I poor health. They did emergency surgery to fix air in the intestine and discovered she had a bowel perforation (peritonitis) The surgeon told us her chance of survival with surgery was 10% and without surgery she'd not make it either it was 0%. They removed infected part of large I testing, found 1 litre of pus which they removed and put a temporary STOMA in her tummy. My poor mum was unconscious she didn't know what was going on at all! So we consented. Surgery went fine and st night she was stable but they put her on non invasive ventilator to help her lungs and heart and so she could sleep. In the morning, we were told her blood pressure had dropped to a dangerously low point. They gave her all meds to pump it up but nothing working she was in SEPTIC SHOCK now, around 5 pm it was almost ok she was maintaining around 90 but after that it suddenly Dropped further. They called us from ICU and said the last resort was a blood transfusion and if that didn't elevate her BP she would not make it. They tried this but it had no effect on her blood, eventually after a three day struggle at hospital and a living nightmare she passed away, I could not take the sight of her monitor and her vitals dropping anymore I went out, I told her how much I loved her but I don't think she heard me, I just didn't have the courage to stay with her until her last breath she was on ventilator and her vitals kept dropping until her pulse showed 0.. I let my father and her brother stay as only two people were allowed, it haunts me to think that perhaps she was looking for me and my brother and we were not present when she was counting her last breaths. this was the worst day of my life, I would do anything to bring her back but I think I failed as a daughter whom she always trusted blindly, I told her she would get better but she did not. I should have been more proactive but my mum was very weak, she was also overweight 97kgs that's why it was so hard to take her down from a fifth floor apartment in a shitty lift. Her result for chucungunya done at hospital came back positive. She kept saying she was fine, none of us realised the fatality of the situation p I don't know what killed her, doctor said she must have had diverticulitis or Crohns which got worse but no one had any specific cause. Her cerfticicate said MOD PERFORATION PERITONITIS ANF SEPTIC SHOCK. Do not ignore severe abdominal pain she fell sick on the 26th with fever only, got wide on the 29-30th Sep and passed on the 4th Oct. I will never forgive myself I should not have listened to the family doctor I should have made him order bloods sooner rather than listening to his viral and chucungunya logic, I hope it never happens to anybody's loved one. I missed the chance to give her life, I hate myself I will never forgive myself me and my brother lost the most loving and beautiful mum withi a span of eight days ... I wish.. I didn't say goodbye I didn't tell her I love her I am lost without her life has lost its meaning what Devil attacked her. We celebrated her birthday just a week ago and mine too :(it was too late I am not sure if she would have had better treatment in U.K. Or Usa not sure if the doctors in India treated her properly ..
  25. new to this

    It was his funeral yesterday - so that means it must be true, its not a prank, or a cruel hoax, or a mistake. My son is dead and that's the truth
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