It is Thursday evening, and in the morning, around 7:30am, my boyfriend of almost one year, will be having surgery. It's not life-threatening surgery or anything, (hernia operation) but my "sudden death widow anxiety brain" is screaming at me otherwise. I have been thinking about all of the things that could go wrong, thinking about sudden death, thinking about all of it. He will probably and most likely be fine and okay and life will go on. But I am a widow of sudden death, and so my knowing that someone can be taken from you in an instant, when you least expect it, is impossible to un-know.
On top of that, I have the story of my own sudden death loss, but also all the many widowed friends I have met over the years, and all THEIR stories of minor surgeries gone wrong, freak accidents, doctors making mistakes, on and on and on. I will be driving him to the hospital in the morning, staying there by his side , waiting in the waiting room while he has the procedure, and getting him back home whenever they release him. He also gave me the numbers for all his family members and people close to him, for me to text and call and let them all know the updates. I am the "point person", and I will do it gladly, because I love him, and he is my person.Read more
It’s Monday night. After a long holiday weekend, and a single day of work, I’m off for a week. Sarah and I are traveling to Texas tomorrow, to meet with her friends and family and celebrate the memory of Drew, as they’ve done yearly since his death.
The loose ends are tied up at work. Our bags are packed and we’re into the impatient “waiting game” that comes before any longer trip getting started. I wish we could just leave right now. Visions of the beach, and lounging beside the pool seem like they’ll take forever to become reality.
Aaaaaand my chest is tight. I’m uncomfortably nervous and anxious. Something just feels...well…”off”.