I hope you have a supportive family physician, who will see you through your grieving process. These days, that can be a tall order; some people can’t find a family doctor at all. I’m fortunate to have a kind and helpful doctor this time. It’s been a real comfort to me.
Why should you speak with your doctor when death has occurred? You may need medical help, either immediately or as the first days wear on. You may find yourself feeling shocked and unwell and you may need something to help you sleep or a mild sedative for daytime, just on a temporary basis. Don’t find yourself in a state of panic at 3 AM, with no medicine to take. That was me the night after Nick was killed (1989). There’s no medal for Martyr of the Year; be prepared for rougher waters than you could have thought possible. Don’t drive to your doctor’s office or anywhere, bad idea for the first days.
The body and soul are so closely connected and it stands to reason that there are many physical, emotional, and behavioural symptoms which can be brought on or made worse by the stress of grieving. You may get off lightly or only have a few minor complaints. Everyone is different that way. I’ll speak a little about what symptoms came my way, so you’ll be prepared to ask for medical help.
In the case of a sudden death, as Nick’s death was at age 38, there’s no chance for meaningful last conversations, good-byes, making or updating a will, or speaking of burial wishes. The person is just gone. Family and friends were devastated. I was quiet and numb, on automatic pilot through the first weeks and months. I had substantial problems with nausea and couldn’t eat. I lost 15 pounds in the first 6 weeks. I would take half a Gravol a bit before a meal so I could swallow a bare minimum of food. My weight did stabilize but the low grade nausea lasted for several months. I also had a tough time with sleep; after a long day with kids I was tired and could get to sleep but would wake too early with anxiety and a stomach ache. That persisted for two years and became an intermittent long term issue. The term PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) doesn’t just apply to those in the military or police force. A death is a trauma too and can leave you with temporary or residual problems. Also, my chest would ache, like a “broken heart”, with no physical cause. Grief itself takes so much energy; no wonder a person can be exhausted for months. I couldn’t focus to read a novel, barely a newspaper or magazine article, but I could manage some TV. What that says about the intellectual demands of some TV programs, I’m not sure! I usually have a good memory but in that year I needed to write down appointments, chore lists, kids’ school activities, and so on. Don’t worry if this lapse of memory comes your way. You’re not losing your wits permanently; you’re just worn out.
Circumstances around Alan’s death (2019) were entirely different. His kidneys had failed him, little by little, and he had heart problems as well. He had 5 years of losing ground, including short and long hospital stays, becoming a dialysis patient (3 times a week, about 3 hours per treatment), and right leg amputation. Alan made a good effort as a wheelchair patient in a care facility, trying to regain some mobility and possibly come home. It was setback after setback, including the likelihood of Alan needing his other leg amputated because a wound on his left foot refused to heal. His prognosis was poor. He was a proud independent man and his worsening health, dependence on others, and plummeting quality of life became intolerable to him. He had signed papers for the MAID (Medically Assisted Death) Program months before, just in case his health took a rapid downturn.
The kids and I were present for his Assisted Death, which was peaceful. We were all, of course, totally set against losing Alan but we knew how poor his health had become and understood his decision. His mind was made up; he had had enough. In a future article, I’ll speak about Assisted Death, a controversial subject. I will say that it’s heartbreaking to watch someone you love suffer through a degenerative illness. As I mentioned previously, I was still shocked that he was gone, even after all that illness. I had low level nausea and sleep problems again but no weight loss, unfortunately. What hit me hardest was “Caregiver’s Remorse.” I’ll talk about this huge issue also in a future article but what the term means is that caregivers, particularly the primary caregiver, can be tormented by a sense of failure and self-blame for not doing enough or for not doing the right things. After Alan’s death, along with the sorrow, I also felt a sense of relief that the misery was over for him; his soul could move on.
To conclude, I think it’s so important to include your doctor as a partner in what you’re going through. You don’t know what health issues you’ll be faced with as the months unfold.
I’ll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through…
I’ll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you
Sammy Fain, Composer I’ll Be Seeing You
Twice A Widow 