Katrina
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About Me:
I just turned 24 years old and graduated nursing school. Soon I will be starting work as an RN in a city nearby.
About my Loss:
On 8.23.16 I was sitting in class and I received a phone call from my husbands phone. I ignored it because I was in class and I knew we would be done in just a couple of minutes and I would be able to call him back. After class I go into the hallway and see 3 missed calls from her and a text indicating there was an emergency. I tried to call him back and there was no answer. I also had a text and missed call from my mom so my next step was to call her. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest as she answered. I asked what was going on and she told me that someone from my husbands work had called her and that he was unresponsive and on the way to the hospital. It felt as if my own heart stopped beating when I heard those words. I ran back into the classroom, very quickly gathered my belongings and ran out. It was a 35 minute drive from where I was to where he was so I spent the time calling around trying to get more info (there was none), crying, and praying (begging God to let him live). When I arrived at the hospital they put me in a "family room" instead of taking me to see him. I knew that was bad. After what felt like hours but was probably only 20 minutes or so a doctor came in and took me to him (my mom and best friend came with me). On the way to the room he stressed to us about tubes and things being in him and not to freak out at the sight (I knew all of this already as I was in my last semester of nursing school). Then he stopped us and said that they had been doing CPR, shocking him, and pumping him full of meds for over and hour and that if they weren't able to get a steady heartbeat back soon that they would have to stop. I nodded and walked in the room...even though I knew what was coming, the sight of him laying there, intubated and unconscious was the most horrifying thing I've seen in my life. It's so different when it's your person and not a stranger and to this day I struggle with that image in my head. I sat by his side, holding his hand, begging God to return him to me to no avail. At one point a second doctor came in and by the way the 2 docs were talking I knew there was no way they were going to get him back. The nurses had been doing relentless CPR for over 30 minutes while I sat there. I knew in my head that even if by some miracle they were able to get him back, his vital organs had been without adequate oxygen supply for so long that he wouldn't be himself. He would have had so many issues that it wouldn't be a way he would have wanted to live. So I softly whispered "it's okay" and with one nurse rubbing my back, I watched as they slowly stopped CPR and the monitor flatlined. There I sat, now a 23 year old widow because my 29 year old, otherwise healthy husband had suffered from a sudden, very out of the blue arrhythmia at work causing him to aspirate into his lungs and die. I sat with him until the funeral home came to take his body. It took me a long time to even get to a point where I had processed what had happened enough to not feel like he was going to be coming through the door at 5:30 every night. It's been 5 months now and I've made some progress...I've moved some of his things into boxes and rearranged our apartment and I managed to finish school and get a job at a hospital. But I still feel so empty. I miss all the little things with him. I miss having a hand to hold, someone to talk to every day who knows me better than I know myself. I miss watching baseball together, going out for ice cream, being held by him as I fall asleep. I miss hearing his little phrases he used to say all the time and his laugh. I miss being loved by someone the way that he loved me. I feel like I've stalled and I don't know how to keep moving forward when even the smallest of steps just make me feel so guilty, like I'm betraying him. Anyway, I just figured maybe if I join a group like this I can learn something from those of you going through the same struggle that I am.

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My mom died 4 months ago

My mom had pulmonary fibrosis. She was sick for a few years. It was funny how when my grandmother smoked, my mom would always say-I’m gonna die from second hand smoke. My mom never smoked. She died from lung disease. Ironic.I was fine at the funeral. Planning. Talking to everyone. I thought u handled it great. Now 4 months later, I’m a mess. Some days I’m perfectly fine, but others I can’t walk down the street without crying. I keep thinking that I haven’t talked to her in a while & I…See More
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