Talking About Grief and Trauma
This is not something I’ve spoken publicly about much for obvious reasons. It’s painful and difficult to discuss the things in life that have traumatized us, especially when we are still dealing with the aftermath. While I addressed this in a previous post, it’s something I have not talked about on my site since. Suffice it to say, this past year has been the worst year of our lives here-that includes my wife, our Boy Jasper, our families, and myself.
It began on August 26th, 2023, when my wife suffered a hemorrhagic stroke and had to be rushed to hospital. It was a terrifying time, and she was very fortunate to have had life-saving surgery so quickly. However, we were warned that there could be long-term physical and neurological consequences. Not knowing what that meant, we were all scared as hell and just waiting and hoping for things to improve. Luckily, they did almost immediately.
In her first week in the hospital, Carla woke up from her medically induced coma and began communicating nonverbally with us. In the coming weeks, they removed her tracheal tube, and she began speaking with us. She was still coming out of her coma, but we could still understand some of what she was saying. This includes words in French, Russian, and German since she’s multilingual. But what really got me was the moment she said the name of one of my Tae Kwon-Do patterns.
I was explaining to her how I was doing this pattern in our driveway to calm down, and told her it was her favorite. She immediately said “Po Eun!” Already, she had given us lots of indications that she was herself and remembered everything. But these two words were the most reassuring and heart-melting words I’ve ever heard! From there, things continued to improve, but there were some very tense and frightening spots along the way.
As I explained in the previous post, the cause of her stroke was kidney failure. Regular dialysis was required, which she began getting three days a week less than a month into her recovery. Just before Christmas, she had her last surgery, and by February — much to my delight! — she was able to return home! Our Boy was so happy to see her, and we slept more soundly together than we had in the previous six months. Alas, things got difficult as the months went on.
I began feeling burned out all the time, and Jasper began throwing up every day, which I attributed to him picking up on my stress. However, by May, an ultrasound revealed that it was something else entirely. Our Boy had lymphoma in his intestines and would have to have an operation, a biopsy, and undergo chemo. And from the way the vets were describing things, it didn’t sound like his chances were very good.
After everything we’d been through, it felt like a gut punch or being kicked while we were down. But we chose to soldier on and get Jasper the treatment he needed. By mid-summer, his weight loss had gotten pretty bad, though he continued to be the tenacious Boy we’ve always known. I began to feel positive after he completed his first round of chemo, but another ultrasound said it was getting worse. At our request, the vet switched him over to another chemo drug, but Jasper continued to lose weight and become less active.
On August 25th, 2024, our Boy Jasper passed away peacefully in our home, having been surrounded by loved ones all day. It was the best passing we could have hoped for. He has stopped eating, lost most of his weight, and couldn’t stand up anymore. We were devastated, but I managed to pull myself together to give him his “last walk” to the vet for cremation. We got his ashes back in a special urn less than a week later, which now sits in a special shrine on our bookshelf.
A little over a month has gone by since he passed, and Carla and I have been picking up the pieces and doing our best to soldier on. But we still have a lot of hurdles to deal with, and I find myself dealing with anxiety and depression all the time. With my wife being off work and Jasper’s medical bills, we’ve been facing a financial crunch too. That is largely behind us, but I keep worrying about the next crisis that will hit us.
Back in December, I said that 2023 was the worst year of our lives. I was wrong. The period between August 26th, 2023, and August 25th, 2024, has been the worst year of our lives.
But before you go thinking it’s all darkness and grief over here, there have been many positive developments as well. Today, Carla is walking virtually unassisted with a walker, her health is impeccable, and she is killing it in all aspects of her recovery. Life is improving here, slowly, and we are simply riding out the grief and the anxiety. I look forward to the Fall and Winter being better, and have high hopes for 2025.
Originally published at http://storiesbywilliams.com on September 27, 2024.
