SBeth

Dear Larry, I am so very sorry for your loss. I'm so inspired by your outlook and your peace of mind. I will keep your whole family in prayer. Love,

Dear Karen, I'm so sorry for all you are going thru. I'll be keeping you in my prayers. Love,

Thank you Charlie. Your words are so true. Our loved ones would not want to see us this way. Some days the only thing that gets me thru is to think that if it were me up in Heaven looking down on Bill, it would make me so sad to see him this way. I don't want him to worry about me, so I'll be doing my best to put up a brave front. This reminder was just what I needed. Much love to everyone.

Mark, My prayers will be with you and your family. I'm so sorry for your loss, just so very sorry. Love,

Extending my prayers to you Larry. May you find peace and comfort in your faith in the Lord.

Val, All I have to offer are my prayers. I wish I had more to say or tell or promise you; but my prayers are all I have...for anyone. Love,

Dear Don and Lucie, No progression is a blessing, but I will still continue to pray that the Alimta works and the next report is ALL GOOD. Much love,

I spent several hours yesterday helping pack some stuff at Bill's mother's home. It was very difficult to be packing up her belongings and seeing so many childhood pictures of Bill, especially when I'm still unable to remove anything from our home that reminds me of Bill. His toothbrush, deodorant, body wash, razor...everything is still in our bathroom exactly as it was 6 weeks ago. Anyway, I awake this morning to find that I have no hot water. More importantly, I have no idea why I have no hot water, nor what to do about it. I head down to the basement where all the "man-stuff" for the house is...furnace, pipes, hot water heater, circuits. Everything looks fine, but what do I know? I end up taking a cold shower, cried for an hour as I got ready for work, came into the office, where I'm still crying about my hot water heater. This would be no big deal if Bill were here. He'd know what to check, what to do, who to call, how much it would/could/should cost. I don't want to know these things, I don't want to have to take care of these things. I just want him back to take care of me. Thanks for listening to me and letting me cry for a little more.

Dear Jane, I'm so sorry for the loss of your father-in-law. I will keep you in my prayers.

Wow Jamie, It sounds like your event is going to be a huge success. I'd be happy to send you some pictures of Bill and I know you still need some information about him too. Separately, I'll be sending out a donation for the event to you in the mail. Can you give me an email address for the pictures? I'm not sure if I can send attachments within a PM here on LCSC? Thanks, Beth

Martha, I agree with the others that this is a decision that only you can make and only you can know what is best for you. From my own personal experience, I can tell you that all my fears of seeing Bill in his casket where calmed beyond anything I can explain to you when I did see him for the first time as he looked so wonderful, so peaceful and so cancer-free. I pray that you find the answers you are looking for. Love,

That was a beautiful tribute to your love for each other, thank you for letting us be a part of it. I know so well all of what you feel and write. I'll be keeping your mother-in-law in my prayers as well as yourself. Much love and comfort to you.

Martha, I'm so sorry for your loss, but it's good that you were with her and able to receive peace from her. My prayers will be with you.

My sincere condolences on the loss of your father in law Cindy. I'll keep you all in my prayers.

Dear Cheryl, My prayers will be with you all. Love,

It’s been almost five weeks now since Bill’s death and it feels more like five months. I’ve done everything that every good-intentioned person has told me to do. I’ve cried when I wanted to cry. I’ve laughed when I’ve been able to laugh. I eat when I can. I sleep when I can. Yet, still I find myself lying in bed every night asking myself if it is real. Is he really gone? Is he really never going to be sitting on the end of the couch again with his surround sound way too loud and the sweat from his iced drink rolling down the end table? I guess this is grief? Some days, especially the day after his funeral, I wake up and feel like it’s a new day and today is the day I’m going to take back my life. I have even felt guilty and asked myself how I can feel so good, is it possible that I am finished grieving? But then the next morning dawns and I realize that I hurt more now than I did the moments and hours following his death. One step forward, two steps back. As I move further from that afternoon on December 9th, I’m able to put the events of the day and the days prior into perspective and I can even begin to feel comforted. Maybe reading this will help some people, but I’m really just writing it all down to get it out and make myself feel better, so please bear with me and if you do happen to read all of these random thoughts…thanks for your patience and love. WARNING…some of what I’m about to share may/could/will be painful or cause fear; my hope is that it will help, not hurt. On Thursday, December 1st, Bill grabbed me the moment I walked into the house from an afternoon meeting and insisted that we go to the mall. He wanted to do some Christmas shopping for his daughters and since we were out…go out for dinner. I pushed back and said that I was tired and we could go tomorrow when I would be home with him all day long. He insisted, so off we went. While at the mall he stopped by a jewelry store and asked me to look at a three-stone necklace. I looked at it, it was beautiful and he wanted to buy it for me for Christmas; but I balked at the idea reminding him that I was on family medical leave and we had many other gifts to buy and I didn’t need any material gifts from him. Ahhh, but he again insisted and I, for the first time, relented and let him buy it for me. As we were walking out of the mall I teased that I didn’t want to wait until Christmas to wear it and he handed it to me and said to go ahead and wear it now. He said that we should celebrate Christmas tonight because he would not be here for the holidays. I looked at him like he was nuts. Here we are, he is feeling good, we are shopping and going out for dinner and Christmas is less than four weeks away…what is he talking about? That night I hit a large pot-hole on the drive home and the jolt in the car sent him reeling into a pain he would never be able to control. We spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday working with Hospice to try to get his pain under control. It wasn’t that it was so painfully intense, just that it was constant and nagging and he was unable to enjoy the weekend. By Monday morning Toni (our Hospice nurse) was at our home evaluating him and decided to triple his oxycontin. Because of some of Bill’s symptoms and the area of his pain, Toni felt it was important to let us (me) know that she was suspicious that Bill may have a tumor growing into the blood vessels near his heart. If so, then we (the family) should be prepared that it was possible for the vessel(s) to rupture at any moment. The rupture would bring upon Bill’s death within seconds and would be completely painless for Bill. It would, however, be frightening for us to watch or find as the rupture would cause massive amounts of blood to come from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. Okay…I’m prepared for that, as long as he doesn’t suffer. Tuesday comes and the increased meds are doing nothing for his pain, which is getting out of control. As I’m getting him into bed Tuesday evening, he tells me that we need to talk, we need to say “our” good-byes as he knows the increased meds are going to be kicking in full force and he fears we won’t have another chance. We spent the best 15 minutes of our life together that evening and squeezed so many things into those brief moments. Wednesday morning Toni returns to find Bill is unable to get out of bed and is coughing up a white foamy substance with what looks like black ashes sprinkled in. I’d soon learn that the black ash was actually old blood that had been leaking into his lungs and he was swallowing when he coughed. Toni was wonderful. She again assessed him and informed me (my brother was with me as he stopped in that morning to check on Bill) that she didn’t expect Bill to make it thru the weekend and it was time for Bill to begin taking the oral morphine to manage his pain. We went into the bedroom as I had asked Toni to tell him. He agreed to the morphine and squeezed my hand and said that it was a good thing we already celebrated Christmas. When she asked him if there was anything she could do to make him more comfortable he asked for a hospital bed. We had discussed his dying at home and always planned for him to remain in our bed so there would be plenty of room for me to lie next to him; but now he decided that he did not want to die in a bed that I would have to return to sleep in alone. Hospice had a hospital bed at our home within two hours. By the time the bed arrived our home was alive with more than a dozen people. From Wednesday morning, until Bill passed away on Friday afternoon, there were never less than 10 people with us…some times as many as 20 family and friends. People were dropping off food and drinks, putting up a Christmas tree in our family room (where Bill was), keeping a fire in the fireplace and the Christmas music was playing round the clock. Early in the morning on Thursday Bill’s breathing became shallow and we all expected that it was time, but then he became agitated and wanted to get out of bed (just as all the literature we read said could happen just before he passes). He was more alert than he had been in almost 24 hours and he begged me to let him get up and go the bathroom. With help from many, we managed to get him into the bathroom. I closed the door and stood alone holding him up over the toilet as I heard a strange gurgling noise and looked up to see him begin to vomit. He began to projectile vomit massive amounts of dark black blood. All I could think of as I stood there holding him around his waist was that it was over. This was the bleeding I was warned of, his body will be going limp and he will be free. I struggled to keep him up, crying and telling him good-bye and that it was over, but fearing that I would drop him into this mess in the bathroom. Others in the house could hear the commotion and I begged someone to come into the bathroom and help me. All I remember is looking into the vanity mirror on the wall and seeing the expressions on their faces as they opened the door and saw all the blood. Everyone seemed unable to help me and without a thought I picked him up and carried him by myself back to his bed, still expecting this to be the end. He drifted into a peaceful sleep and his blood pressure leveled off. It wasn’t over, not yet. Hospice arrived shortly after, took one look at the bathroom and the blood loss and said that he should not be alive still and if it happened again, he would not survive again…but it did and he did survive…two more times. By the early hours of the morning on Friday a snow storm struck, leaving everyone stranded. I would lie in the bed with Bill and people were camped out all over the family room and in every bedroom or couch in our home. This dying process seemed to last an eternity and as his morphine wore off every four hours, he was clearly in pain. Around 2 p.m. on Friday, Bill’s mother took a seat near his head and took his hand. She told him that it was time to let go. She told him that we would all be okay and that she needed him to go on ahead and wait for her as she would be with him soon. At this time, no one, not even his mother, knew she would be with him in less than three weeks. At 2:10 p.m. on Friday he took a few deep breaths and went to heaven. I only remember the fear and panic that set in during those moments. All those months of “thinking” I was prepared, all those shared conversations of promising Bill that I would be okay…what was I thinking? Nothing happened the way I thought it would. Nothing felt the way I thought it would. After months of being strong and determined and sneaking off to cry alone…the damn broke and I realized just how much I really truly deeply madly loved my husband. I have no advice to offer to anyone. I haven’t yet learned anything from my experience that I can share. It may be a comfort to some to know that during the two days that Bill was on his path, there were some moments of coherency, though they were brief. At one moment I had asked everyone to leave the room so that I could change the bed sheet and give him a quick bath. Bill awoke when he felt the blankets pull back and motioned towards the Christmas tree and said that I needed to wait until his Grandmother left the room. I asked him if she was in the room and he said she was, so I asked her to step into the next room with everyone else. Bill’s cherished Grandmother passed away while he was in the military some 25 plus years ago. And then his cousin, Lisa, came in and he told her that his other cousin (Lisa’s brother who died suddenly at 41 years old in March) was just telling him a good joke. I take comfort in these moments and feel like I witnessed these moments for a reason, a good reason. In one of his last moments of coherency, he asked me about Brian (BRAT) and I told him that I was sure he was okay, but I hadn’t been on LCSC to find out. In a fleeting moment I feared that Bill was trying to tell me something had happened to Brian, but he quickly eased that fear by telling me to tell Pat he would take care of Brian. On January 1st at 5:30 p.m., I stood in Bill’s mother’s ICU room and felt his presence. She was at peace and things she did in the moments before her death made us know that she was with him again. She coded as her heart stopped beating and we were exited from the room. Expecting the doctors to come out and tell us she was gone, we were surprised when they came out at 5:45 to tell us that they were able to stabilize her and she was on a ventilator. Seeing her on life support was terrible. I sat in the ICU room crying and asking Bill why he is letting her suffer? Only moments later at 6:10, she passed away peacefully. I don’t think she suffered, I later figured out that she was waiting for Bill to finish helping Brian, who passed away at 5:40 on New Years Day. I returned to work yesterday and I’m trying to adjust to my new normal. It’s very hard. Writing all of this has helped me. I truly hope that my words do not cause pain or fear for any others. I love you Pat and I’m thinking of you constantly. I know that together we can help each other get thru this with the knowledge that Bill and Brian are together and will be waiting for us one day.

Denise, I'm so very sorry for your loss. You were such a comfort to me during the end of Bill's illness and his death, I'm sorry I haven't been around more to be more supportive for you. I'll be keeping you in my prayers.

Okay, I didn't realize that was considered "traditional healing". To answer your poll, although I no longer see it as a poll question...I would be willing to try anything. A disclaimer to this opinion of mine is that clearly I'm saying this after the loss of my husband because I'd do anything to get him back...anything. But if someone had approached us in October and suggested a trip to Africa for this type of therapy I would have probably not considered it an option. Fearing that the travel could expose him to something that may make him more sick than he already was. I guess I'm not as open minded as I'd like to think.

Smoke, Did you mean to ask if Non-traditional healing would be considered? Or do I misunderstand and is voodoo considered traditional healing in Africa? I'm just not sure how to respond to your polled question. Beth

Dear Carleen, I read this shortly after you posted and thought it was probably a good idea not to respond as my emotional state would prevent me from giving anything more than a from the heart opinion. But, here I find myself...taking off my shoe and preparing to stick my foot into my mouth. What the hell... I say go for it. I'd give anything...and I mean I'd give anything to have saved sperm from Bill. My husband was 49 and I'm 38 years old. When we met 10 years ago we both already had our children and we NEVER EVER contemplated having a child together. I tell you right now that I'd give absolutely ANYTHING I have to turn back the clock and be ABLE to change that now. Again...take into consideration that I'm only a few weeks away from loosing my husband; but this IS how I feel right now. All my best to you in your and Keith's decision.

I'm very sorry for you Denise. I know how difficult these days can be and will be for you. Please try to make the most of every moment you have with your father. I do believe that both Brian and Bill were there too. Some day, when I get my wits back about me, I'm going to post a really warm and comforting story about something that happened in Bill's last day...but I'm not yet ready to share with anyone quite yet. I will say that any doubts I had about what happens when you die...I no longer have. I will be praying for you and your family.

He is a VERY LUCKY man Ann. Congratulations.

GREENE Mary Lou (nee Heim). Beloved wife of the late Raymond Greene, loving mother of John Slovacek, Louis Slovacek, Claire Kleiman and the late Bill Slovacek. Dear sister of the late Irene Robb. Also survived by many cherished grandchildren and great grandchildren. Suddenly January 1, 2006, age 69. Visitation at Meyer & Geiser Funeral Home, 4989 Glenway Ave. (opposite the Covedale Center) Thursday from 11:30 A.M. until 1:30 P.M. followed by the celebration of the Mass of Christian Burial Holy Family Church at 2 P.M. (Hawthorne Ave., Price Hill). Remembrances may be made to American Lung Assoc., 11113 Kenwood Rd. 45242. Funeral Home: Meyer & Geiser Funeral Date: Jan. 5, 2 p.m.

My heart breaks with yours Pat. They are together and we have each other. I'm here for you. Love,

Well, 2006 is off to quite a start. Bill's mother passed away this evening. I had quite a one-way conversation with her just moments before she took her last breath. She was able to nod and blink to respond and I know without a doubt that Bill was right beside her thru it all...right beside us all. He's got her back where he can take care of her again. This all has happened so quickly. She was out having dinner with a friend just Thursday evening. The ICU doctors told us that the cancer was already invading her blood vessels and causing her breathing complications that she was unable to rebound from after she broke her hip Thursday night. She's at peace and it was without ANY struggle or pain. My husband was with her and took care of his beloved mother...he is still making me proud. Thanks everyone for listening. Love,