This is long and may be depressing. If you read it thank you, if not, I understand. It is non fiction. I was going to post this in a widow’s page on Facebook, then couldn’t as someone else had just posted something I felt was in direct contradiction to what I am trying to get across. Then I realized, I could post it here, as this is my page and I can do with it what I want. So here it is:
For the past three days, I’ve felt relatively ok. Not good, but ok. And I can live with ok. Sunday was 7 weeks since Jason passed and I didn’t think the ok feeling would last this long. I thought for sure I would crash on Monday. Didn’t. Then I thought I would crash on Tuesday. Didn’t. Now, it’s after midnight Tuesday to Wednesday and I can’t sleep. Really need to not drink caffeine like that, but I might have had a restless night anyway. Not convinced caffeine does that to me, but whatever.
So here’s my story. In 1994 I met Jason. He asked me to marry him almost right away. We stayed engaged for a while, but that’s jumping ahead. In 1996, after only 2 years together, Jason’s kidney failed. He only had one, we found out, and it was no longer doing its job. At the time, it was the scariest thing I’d ever gone through.
Jason decided on treatment. He had 6 years of peritoneal dialysis. (7 peritoneal infections.) It was a tough time for both of us, but we made it through. Not going into the details of that, just want to write out the basics. In 2002, Jason’s dad gave him a kidney. Though he did feel better, he wasn’t 100%. He never would be after his kidney failed in ’96.
In 2004, we were married. Yep, 10 years later. Didn’t matter to us that we weren’t married. We just wanted to be together. A piece of paper couldn’t change what we felt for each other.
In late 2012, Jason found out the transplant was failing. He had three choices: hemo dialysis, kidney transplant, or refuse treatment. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but figured it out in his own time.
In April of 2013, Jason told me that he had decided not to continue treatment. He was done. I cannot tell you how much that hurt. I wanted to be able to fix him, but there was no fixing him. It wasn’t just the kidney issues any more. He felt that his mind was slipping.
Jason had in incredible mind, was creative and seemed to relish in telling people, “Sure, I can do that,” even when he didn’t know how. If he didn’t know how to do something he was asked to do, he would figure it out. And often did things better because of it.
I loved that man. I wish we had had more time together, but we knew it wasn’t forever. After his kidney failed in ’96, we would talk about the fact that he would probably die before I did. It was never a scary conversation, just matter of fact. I felt we would have longer than 19 years, 2 months, but I’ll take it.
I feel that since we knew it wasn’t forever, part of my mind was ready for it, my emotions as well, and perhaps that’s why I’m ok.
I know that I’ll probably continue having some bad days, but I don’t know if I’ll have too many more. I am reluctant to tell too many people this, as I don’t want to come off as cold. I am hoping that this committee, or at least a few of you, (maybe even one?) will understand what I am going through and let me know. I feel kind of alone on this and don’t want to be.
I hope that all of you have good days, and I hope that if you don’t, you have someone that understands.
Cat Stark 