Dear Paul/OG/Griff/@OriginalGriff
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
A real bummer. We are all pulling for you. Hang in there.
>64 Some days the dragon wins. Suck it up.
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
If you need a place where you’re missed, you know where to find it. In the meantime, stay safe, stay strong, stay well!
Mircea
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Griff dude, i am sorry. I have lost so many people in my life as well. IT just sucks. You are in my thoughts. Take some small comfort in that we here, all are here, to just listen whenever you want to chat. I think I speak for everyone on that. Talking does help. Keep talking.
To err is human to really elephant it up you need a computer
rnbergren wrote:
Take some small comfort in that we here, all are here, to just listen whenever you want to chat. I think I speak for everyone on that.
:thumbsup::thumbsup::thumbsup: If not all, many... with me as one of them too
M.D.V. ;) If something has a solution... Why do we have to worry about?. If it has no solution... For what reason do we have to worry about? Help me to understand what I'm saying, and I'll explain it better to you Rating helpful answers is nice, but saying thanks can be even nicer.
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
OriginalGriff wrote:
I've started drinking again, which I know is destructive but it helps me get to sleep.
I am not telling you "don't do it", but please, be careful with that.
OriginalGriff wrote:
I'm probably going to have to talk to the doctor again maybe about antidepressants,
There are some that are taken at night because they knock you out. I prefer the ones from the morning and melatonin based pills for the night though.
OriginalGriff wrote:
counselling,
If not counselling at least company, and even better if the company is from someone you trust and you can talk about it with
OriginalGriff wrote:
So ... how are you all?
A bit worried about you. On the other hand, busy as hell with job and kids.
M.D.V. ;) If something has a solution... Why do we have to worry about?. If it has no solution... For what reason do we have to worry about? Help me to understand what I'm saying, and I'll explain it better to you Rating helpful answers is nice, but saying thanks can be even nicer.
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
Dear Paul Thank you for very much your feedback. I'm at a loss for words, it's all so sad. I hope you seek professional help. Talking to friends can also be very helpful. In my experience, talking about the situation over and over again is very helpful. I'm so sorry and helpless to help you :(( Bruno
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
Not trying to equate... but we lost my mother last year, and my dad was pretty much in a similar situation. They had been together for over 60 years. What helped him in the initial couple of months was that at least one of us (his children) were staying with him. Even after that, he or we used to visit each other once a week. I guess what I am trying to say is that company helps, especially company of those who have shared memories. If that is a possibility, please do try it. :rose:
Happiness will never come to those who fail to appreciate what they already have. -Anon And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music. -Frederick Nietzsche
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
Paul, know that you are in our thoughts :rose:. My mother passed away in March, after I had been her caregiver for several months; she had dementia. I only know what I am going through, but it's enough for me to sympathize with your pain. For what it's worth my doctor helped, and I think I'm ready to talk with someone now. When you're ready, please seek help you feel comfortable with. We'll be here.
Software Zen:
delete this; -
It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
Paul, other than laughing at your puns and appreciating your crossword clue feedback, I can't claim to know you. Yet reading the above is really hard. I guess you may already have done this, but please get in contact with the bereavement support services; try Marie Curie[^] No commitment, you don't need to see anyone if you don't want to. I'm sure you've a network of friends, neighbours and family supporting you, but sometimes those without the emotional attachment can see a little more clearly and give advice on a practical level on how to manage what you're going through. Thoughts are very much with you.
Telegraph marker posts ... nothing to do with IT Phasmid email discussion group ... also nothing to do with IT Beekeeping and honey site ... still nothing to do with IT
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
Hey there. I am so sorry to read this - you have my sympathies. Can't say we are close friends - but like many others on here, I look forward to reading your comments and puns etc. Rest assured that however you're feeling right now - sad, numb, tired, angry etc — it's normal. There's no right or wrong way to feel. Hopefully you'll find some comfort in reading some of the other comments on here... Take care.
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
We've never met other than via CP yet I feel so sad over your loss and pain. What a strange world - my first grandchild (James) was born just two weeks ago. I hope he grows up to have as much class, and have as many people care about him, as you have. Condolences, Craig:rose:
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@OriginalGriff Please excuse the interruption. I think lot of us would like to hear from you how you are doing. Kind regards Bruno
:rose: Hang in there dude.
veni bibi saltavi
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It's complicated, which is why I haven't been here recently - my mental state isn't too wonderful and in addition to fighting off the Black Cloud my focus is missing - I can cope with small jobs with a defined start and end, but ones that need thinking about aren't too easy at the moment. Let me run through the history ... Michelle and I first met in a pub, when she hit me in the balls with a pool cue - a few weeks later I got a 2am call that her boyfriend had hit her and she'd got the heck out. I put her up on the couch for a few nights, then we were together almost continually for the next 30+ years. In May 2020 the wonderful NHS gave her Covid (by shipping all long-term patients out of the local hospital into residential homes without doing any covid testing despite having Covid in the hospital) and two days later she had given it to me. You may remember how sick I was at the time, and how long it took me to recover? She got it worse and was eventually diagnosed with Emphysema and Pulmonary Fibrosis which meant she travelled everywhere with an O2 bottle and was allowed up to 2 l/min when she wanted or needed it. In March of this year, she got it again - and gave it to me two days later - and came out of it much worse: ambulances were called, and she was moved to permanent O2 which rose to 5 l/min and finally 10 l/min if she was sleeping / resting with 15 l/min if she was moving or stressed. Even then, her SATs were in the toilet most of the time: resting was in the mid 80's, and a visit to the toilet would drop her into the 40's. To give you an idea what that means, it's how much oxygen is in your blood as a percentage - a hospital SAT monitor goes into alarm mode if it drops to 88 or below. Basically, I was a full time carer from March onward. The house was filled with oxygen concentrators and large tanks in case of a power cut, and the car with "travel cylinders" which used to last her around 3 1/2 hours each, but now would last under 1/2 hour. I bought her a wheelchair because she had to stop twice and get her breath back just to get from the house to the car even on the full 15 l/min. We were getting on top of it, and a respiratory care team was assembling to back us up. Then she fell off a chair and broke her arm - knocked the shoulder end ball clean off - ambulance trip to hospital but they couldn't operate to fix it because the breathing problems made a general anesthetic too risky. So she couldn't go upstairs at all, the stairs are too steep and she needed both hands to be
