My oldest son, married with a 7 yr old son of his own. My relationship took a dive and Matt demanded I move in with his family. He was very protective of me. Even to the point of wanting to drive me to and from work due to me not liking driving home after dark. He wanted me to live with them so he could keep on eye on my health. Unwilling to give up my independence, this stay with him was temporary. I worked in our small town hospital. I was the registration clerk for our ER. Dec. 15th, after work, Matt described discomfort in his chest and said it was hard to catch his breath. He'd had previous bronchial issues, so I told him to go stand in the cold and see if he got relief. He did not and asked me to drive him to the hospital. On the way, he requested I turn around and get an ambulance, he didn't want me to drive him. In doing so, I still thought it was bronchial. Never had he complained about heart symptoms. I got to the hospital a few minutes after the ambulance arrived with Matt. ER 1 door was shut. ER 1 and ER 3 are trama rooms. I assumed they were taking extra precautions by putting Matt in that room. My co-workers were with Matt, along with the Dr.  Since I worked there, I took it upon myself to enter ER 1 expecting to see Matt getting a breathing treatment. Instead, I saw my co-worker doing CPR and the Dr. prepping the Electro pads. I immediately went into shock, knowing at that point my son was dead. Another co-worker ran to me and pulled me out of the doorway and put me in another room. That is when I was screaming at God and my dad (whom passed in 1992) begging them not to take my son. 20 minutes later, the Dr. came to hug me and told me Matt showed no response to their efforts. He was gone. My youngest son was at work, a friend called and asked his boss to send him to the hospital not telling him the truth. I called my other son whom lived 230 miles away and asked him to come to me, after I told him Matt had died. 

After the service, one week later, I returned to work thinking it was going to be healthy for me to keep busy. Still in shock, still unbelieving, still trying to grasp what I should do. I worked as I always did. Constantly going into ER 1 to register patients, upon entry to the room, I didn't see the patient laying there, I saw my son (in my mind). I did this robotic act for 10 long months, pretending life was to eventually get normal. I tried to put on my big girl pants and get through this. Seeing a few more parents loose their kids, family members, I felt I could comfort them more due to my loss. In the meantime, the weight was shedding off me, the mind was deteriorating, the depression was making me not talk socially, my chest pains were growing more and my alone moments I secluded myself. My dr saw me at the hospital and commented about my weight loss. I told her, "stress does many things". The next day she called and demanded me to come see her. She put me on anti-depression pills and told me I needed help. She also told me that working every day in the room Matt died in was unheard of. She wanted me to quit my job before I had a mental breakdown. I went to the cardiologist whom has been treating me for the same disease Matt died from and he suggested I go on disability because my stress will kill me. Now I sit at home (back with the partner in my own home), I just don't want to talk to no one, I don't want to leave the house, Pretty much every thought I have is of Matt. My daughter in law, well they were on the verge of a divorce, took my grandson and went to Florida to live with her sister, so I lost him too. I am so numb, I can't laugh, and I surely didn't celebrate Christmas since Matt died Dec. 15th of 2010. My two other boys are trying so hard to help me emotionally but I want them to go on with their lives and not focus on me. I find I can't deal with this sadness, horror, emptiness anymore. I'm at such a loss.

Thank you for allowing me to join this group. I know you all know what I am going through and I really have no one else to talk about this with.