Devastation & Irony

Sometimes, when I see certain pictures of Frank, or hear a certain song or something just a thought of him, my heart literally hurts and/or does a little flip flop. It scares me, because I think that someday, this all will hit me REALLY hard and I will die of a broken heart. Am I next? Who knows... if Frank can be taken, then anyone can. :(

This last weekend was Memorial Day. I was emotional sitting at home, so decided to go to Target. I was worried about losing it in the store, but I lost it on the drive to & from the store. You see, all these lovely families were outside in their yards and at the parks, smiling and having a good time. Some were playing volleyball, some were playing catch. Others sat on their porches drinking cool summer drinks & bullshitting. At first, I would see them and smile and wave... my smile quickly faded with the sudden realization that I don't have a happy family anymore. I wondered what we would have been doing this weekend... probably nothing, but we would have been together for sure. Then I realized, it doesn't matter, because it will NEVER be so again.

Frank was ripped from my life with no warning. There was not time for goodbyes or I love yous or for him to get his affairs in order. This may sound cruel, but I think it would have been easier had he gotten cancer or something... at least we would have had SOME time, and he would have been able to speak to me. People have said that they'd like to go like he did... quick and painless. Um, why do people think heart attacks are painless? Frank's MASSIVE heart attack was relatively quiet as it snuck up on him, but when it actually hit, I can pretty much guarantee it hurt like hell. I saw his face... I heard the noises he made... I don't want to remember it, but I do. Then, to think that I might have tortured him even more by telling everyone to do whatever it takes??? That just about kills me inside. How selfish of me, right? And then the guilt sets in... 


I think of him being more worried about the vision thing than the mild chest pain... was the vision thing an early sign of heart failure/heart disease/heart attack? I know someone whose brother had an MI, and saw pinpoints and like he was looking down a closing tunnel when he was on his way to the hospital. Frank was worried about MS, but now I wonder if it was something else... and the vision thing had been going on & off sporadically over many months!

I feel guilt over not taking the slight weight gain more seriously, and for not seeing red flags when finding out how much coffee he'd been drinking at work. I knew he was more tired than usual, but he had been staying up later than usual, too and I think we both just chalked it up to aging...

Frank always said he would die early, because all the men in his family died too young. I don't think he meant THIS early, though. :'( He was always fascinated with angels, and we had many sculptures & statues of them throughout our house & yard, and he had a large angel tattoo on his arm... he called her his guardian angel, too! Was this some sort of sign, too? My mom thinks he was an angel in training... I still don't think it's fair or right!!!

February was National Heart Month. My daughter's class JUST did their Jump Rope for Heart fundraiser. Everything was done by the end of April... and then an HOUR into May 1st, Frank has a Massive Heart Attack, STEMI?!? I find that ironic... 


Anyways, those are my thoughts for this past weekend. Memorial Day is to honor our military heroes. Well, Frank was never in the military. In fact, he took a test to be a Marine, but failed it. After that, his Grandpa told him to go to Canada if the US ever brought back the draft. Frank decided LONG ago that the military life was not for him, and he didn't want any of his kids joining, either. Frank literally was MY hero... he saved me from myself, and showed me what love really was. He was a good father & he was my best friend. There's nothing bad I could say about him.

Bad Day

Dear Frank,

Today was really hard. I'm not quite sure why. The skies were dark & ominous up until noon or later. It thundered & rained for many hours. The dogs barked at every clap of thunder, and Lily tried to claw her way to the top of the pile of couch pillows by my bed/couch. Needless to say, I didn't sleep very good. Normally, I LOVE a good thunderstorm, but today was different... 


I did cry yesterday for about 15 minutes or so, while I was home alone. I felt guilty about something & thought about how that would make you feel, and I just lost it.

Today, though... ugh! I decided to go grocery shopping to get out of the house & occupy my mind with something else. I had been choking back tears all morning & well into the early afternoon. At the store, Franki became a handful, and wanting all kinds of "junk". I kept telling her, "No... we can't get that" and "Not today...", but she never really gave up. Finally, I'd had it and grabbed the toy from her and practically threw it on a shelf, knocking some jars over. I was SO pissed. I said to her very loudly "We can't buy that kind of stuff with food stamps! We're poor now, and can only get food with what I have!!!" First, I felt guilty as hell about yelling at her. Then, I felt mortified & embarrassed... I decided it was time to leave, whether I was done shopping or not. Once out to the car, I had a breakdown. Morgan didn't like it and got that snotty tone of voice with me, and told me to do what she does, which is "pretend". I have been pretty damn good at pretending for the past few weeks, but today was different. I told her "I can't pretend! Especially when out & about and not being able to do the things we used to do! I can't just buy Franki toys like we used to! We can't go out to eat like we used to, either! I'm on the verge of losing the house, have to find a roommate & am broke, so you can graduate here!" She told me I didn't "have to stay". *sigh* She wants to go live with a friend, and I'm just not comfortable with it, especially if I am 200+ miles away. :(


Then I went to Kwik Trip for smokes. Your friend from high school was working. I asked her "Do you have facebook?" She said "No, but my husband does." I said "So, you know about Frank?" and she replied "Yeah... my husband told me. I'm sorry but I just couldn't come to the funeral... too hard for me." I lost it again... full force this time!

I cried on & off for the next few hours, and I choked back quite a few tears as well. Today was just SO hard for me and I don't know why. Were you here with me? Were you visiting someone else? Are you here at all? You know I'm a skeptic, and would like a clear sign that you are here. And if you ARE here, sorry, but I am going to be possessive & greedy and want your spirit all for myself. Boy does that sound STUPID. I hope nobody ever reads this that I know...

Anyways, I am finally ready for bed... back to the craptastic sleep schedule like it was before. Hopefully tomorrow is sunny or just different in general. I meant to keep this short, but you know me... I always get long winded. With that, goodnight my dear. I love you!

With All My Heart,
~Lisa

My Beautiful Frankie Blue Eyes

Signs?

My Dearest Frank, 


was that you in the car when I was holding my hand out for you to hold?
Was that you when I felt all tingly & warm in bed those first few nights home? 
Was that you who threw or dropped 2 shampoo bottles out of the shower & onto the floor when I turned around from looking in the mirror?
Was that you in the stairwell when we all smelled cologne? JOOP? 
Was that you in CVS when my hand suddenly smelled like pencil shavings? Ashley smelled it, too... 
Was it you that stopped the rain so we could get to the car dry when leaving CVS? I said "Frank! Please make this rain stop, especially when I'm out running errands!" and it stopped, but only over us... 
Was it you or your Angel statue that kept Robyn safe when she got in an accident on 494?
Was it you in your Angel urn in the passenger seat of the Camaro that kept me safe when I lost control and was SURE it was going to roll? 
Was it you who placed & spilled a ROTTEN putrefied Venti Caramel Latte in the van? I had cleaned it out 2 days before, and I swear it wasn't there before... 
Is it you thumping & bumping around upstairs & in the bedroom late at night & scaring the bejeezus out of me? Or are those just the old sounds of the house?
Did you whisper my name loudly in the middle of the night last night? Or was that a strange sound or sigh from one of our sleeping children, that happened to sound like my name?
Was it you who called my name in your silly joking voice TWICE in the hospital, once when Ashley & I were waiting to come in & see you outside of your room, and that same day, when Ashley & I and Feeni had left your room & were heading down the hall? I wasn't the only one to hear it... the nurses said they didn't hear anything, though... 


If these are all signs, then I will consider myself blessed & lucky. If they aren't, then I am losing my marbles or my senses are hyper sensitive since you've been gone. I'd like MORE signs that you are here. I'd love you to hold me at night, touch my face the way you always did, tell me you love me or how beautiful I am like you used to... tell me it's going to be okay or that you are still with me.

All My Love,
~Lisa

Changes

Dear Frank,
Yesterday marked 3 weeks since the 'official' day of your passing. I had just started listening to the radio the day before - I was avoiding it in fear of hearing something that might trigger a breakdown, a song you loved, a song we loved, etc. - when I had a little breakdown. I was on my way to Starbucks at about 9:25 AM, and stopped at the light at 185th & Cty Rd 50, started station surfing (everything is crap nowadays), and Far Behind by Candlebox came on. I lost it. I remember giving you a mix CD early in our relationship (I still have it somewhere) and this was one of the songs on it. We both have always loved it. :*( Anyways, I listened to 3/4 of the song while sobbing, and then turned it off. I just couldn't take it. No more music for me for a while! I had to pull into a parking space & regain my composure before going through the Starbucks drive-through. 


A little over a week ago, I was forced to apply for assistance. You were our primary wage earner, and supported me & five kids for SO many years. Because of things that happened to our kids while in the care of others, and our deep mistrust of pretty much everyone outside of our immediate family, we were content with me staying home with them instead of working. I became accustomed to that lifestyle, and now I am nearly destitute. I started crying in the meeting with the first welfare worker, with my dad at my side for comfort... this happened while filling out YOUR information, and while filling out a questionnaire regarding my strengths & goals (I'd never thought about that until right then). Last week, I met with an employment counselor, and now I am being forced to actively job search OR work for 25 or more hours per week, plus attend workshops, meetings & classes, find daycare and all required to be done RIGHT NOW. I hadn't even started on Thank You notes until yesterday!

Franki Jade has been a terror for the past 2 weeks. She won't listen and tries to do things she KNOWS we don't approve of. Wearing makeup at 9 years old? We've had at least 5 fights over that little stunt. She's not been doing homework, or cleaning up after herself, has been watching stuff on TV meant for older teens, arguing with everyone about everything, etc. While she's doing this stuff, I'm busy trying to find a job, organize paperwork, fill out forms, do Thank You cards, cook, clean or whatever, and she's taking full advantage. I feel like I'm a single parent again & I don't know how to do it alone... nor do I want to! What a nightmare!


Even the dogs have changed... Waffles has been naughty, reverting to her trying to dominate & beat up the other dogs (especially Lily). Pika was depressed for the first 2 weeks, and acted out by refusing to come into the house after going outside (I had to pick her up and bring her in) and picking fights with Waffles. She just sulked & moped for those whole two weeks. Lily has developed severe separation anxiety, and I swear she's going to give herself a heart attack by how excited she gets when I come home - even if I am gone only for minutes... she shakes, whines, claws my legs until I pick her up, and her eyeballs look like they're going to pop out of her head. Poor thing. All the dogs always liked you best, since you didn't groom them or do other "mean" things to them.

The cats have changed, too. Lynx has been way more lazy than usual, and he snuck out a few times, and then somehow convinced visiting family that he NEEDED to go outside, so they let him out. He's not an outdoor cat and he knows it! When he's not being a total lazy ass, he's getting into trouble... tearing around the house, grabbing people who walk by him, knocking stuff over, eating plants, tearing into bags of food or chips on the counter. He's also convinced every visitor that he is starving to death, and I'm convinced he was fed at least 3 times a day while company was still heavy. He's gotten quite fat! Leela has bonded with my mom, who is allergic to her. She does things to my mom like she always did before with Kevin. She tries to sleep on her face and pesters her non-stop.

I've only seen your kids twice since you died, not including your service. I miss them, and know this is NOT how you would have wanted things. Your ex is now in control, and is their legal guardian, and has made it VERY clear to everyone, and is going all out in asserting that control. If I want the kids to come here, or if they want to come here, I have to contact her before talking to them. I've told the kids it's just not worth the heartache to me to have to battle with her to simply see them. I know you'd be disappointed, but I just don't have any fight left in me, Frank. </3


I've been camped out in my living room for 2.5 weeks on my couch. I tried sleeping on yours, but it was too weird & I couldn't get comfortable. I did sleep in our bed for 2 nights after coming home, but I think my body overrode my mind & heart and I truly NEEDED to sleep, regardless of WHERE. I tried to sleep in our bed 2 nights afterwards, and got this weird feeling on the left side of my body... warm, tingling and numb. It scared me, and I didn't want to be alone, so I gave up trying to sleep in our room. :( Even my first few nights on my couch, I got that same feeling, and was scared to sleep. I'd sit up and do NOTHING for an hour  or so, and finally be tired enough & have that feeling gone, and then I slept. For the most part, my sleep has been uninterrupted by dreams. I know I've had two dreams in 3 weeks, and that is unusual for me. The first one was that Leela starved to death. I don't recall the second one, but I woke up, and remembered seeing your face VERY clearly.

I've asked you to touch me, to hold my hand, to just give me a sign of some sort that you are still with me. Two days ago in the car, when I was alone, I held out my hand & asked you to hold it. I must have held my hand out like that for 10 minutes and kept looking over to the passenger seat. I did get a weird sensation in the center of the palm of my hand, but I can't describe it. Was that you? If so, please do it more often. I know that if I KNEW you were still here with me, even in spirit, I would be so much more at ease. I can have a relationship with a ghost! I love you & don't care if it's weird to say that.


Yesterday, when I was zoned out with "work" that I was doing, some jerk turned around in our driveway. I heard the crunch of the gravel under their tires, instinctively looked at the time, and out of habit thought to myself, "Frank's home!" Then I remembered... 


I haven't done but one or two loads of laundry since I've been home. I see your clothes in the bedroom, and avoid it as well. One day when your son was here, I told him he could look through things & see if there were any clothes he wanted. I tried to help him, but got wet eyes when I saw your flaming skull JNCO jeans, and walked away. Later, we went into the basement and in the dryer was a whole load of mostly your clothes. I pulled out one of your funny T-Shirts, and lost it and had to hide in the bathroom until I was done. I told him to just find what he wanted & that I'd be upstairs. Morgan has been helping with laundry, and happened to find an unwashed T-Shirt of yours... the one that says "I got out of bed for this?" She brought it up to show me & have me smell it. We decided to seal it in a zip lock bag so we could smell it FOREVER. I miss your smell SO much. I've been using our blankets & your pillows & pillowcases, but your scent faded quickly from them. :( I'm sure I'll find more "distinctly YOU" things that I can seal and smell, but for now I can't bear to go through any of it. 


I feel like my life is in upheaval, I don't know what to do, and I just really want you back. I NEED you! You have always been my rock & my best friend! <3 I haven't had time to properly mourn and wonder if I ever will. The sporadic short crying fits just seem weird and random to me. I wonder if people see me as cold or indifferent to all of this? I'm trying to stay strong, and be tough on the outside. Inside I'm a wreck, and cannot stop thinking about you. Anyways, as always, I love you. You were my better half, and took a piece of me and my heart with you when you went away. I'll NEVER be the same, and I'm sure I'll never find complete happiness again. </3


Always & Forever,
~Lisa

Our plans & shattered dreams...

In the last year & a half, we had actually begun to plan our wedding. We knew we wanted a winter wedding. We had decided that the first or second week in November would be perfect, as I would have family in the area for hunting season and it was convenient. It wouldn't be too hot, so I could wear something with sleeves. I actually had TWO dresses picked out, but hadn't decided 100% yet. Frank wanted our wedding to be ON the beach at the Longbranch in Winton, MN, regardless of the weather. It would be a short, but sweet ceremony. I had even chosen a hat/veil thing (it had a retro look) and it was in my mother's hands for safekeeping. We also had a punch bowl. I had begun designing invites, and still have them tucked away in my computer somewhere.

We kept putting the date off or pushing it back another year at a time. It wasn't because of cold feet or falling out of love for each other. I wanted to lose weight so I could look good, and we worried about finances. You see, I've had Medical Assistance for 15+ years. More & more of my meds were not being covered by my insurance & a lot had become OTC drugs. These are meds I've always taken and literally NEED to survive. I have severe asthma & allergies, along with some other more minor issues. Anyways, if Frank and I had married, I would have lost the MA and been put on his health insurance through work. His premiums were HIGH for a family plan, and there's no way we could have afforded it. If I went without insurance, then the meds & doctors appointments would have to come out of pocket, and we couldn't afford that either. One inhaler alone (preventative) retails for $375 for a month supply. So, the insurance was a HUGE factor in us putting the wedding date off. It was hard, too with everyone constantly asking "So, when's the big date?" *sigh*

Another reason we were content with the way things were & not rushing things, is that we were perfectly fine & happy with the way things were. We got along great, and we both viewed marriage as a piece of paper. We were married at heart anyways, and that's what mattered the most to us. We had been discussing nixing the wedding thing all together, and just having a commitment ceremony instead. We would do better with our taxes if we were married, but that was peanuts compared to the insurance issues. Looking back now, I guess it would have been better for me right now had we gotten hitched, but who can foresee something like this happening? Minnesota hasn't recognized "common law" marriages since 1941 (or so I've read), although I know people who were married by common law & even got a new Social Security card with a recognized name change without asking for it and without being legally married. Anyways, the point is moot... without common law or a real marriage, I am entitled to NOTHING, unless I was specifically named as a beneficiary in any paperwork... but that is a long story for another day.

We had plans to retire on the Iron Range. I have a house in Eveleth, MN, but Frank wanted to find a piece of land, on or near a lake, in the woods where we could live a quiet life. He knew his time being a mechanic was limited with the toll it takes on the body, so this was our 10 year plan, and then our 5 year plan, and most recently, our 3 year plan. He wanted to wait until his daughter Lexi was 18 and/or out of school. I tried to talk him into doing it now, as I just don't like being in the cities and hated seeing him work so hard ALL the time. :( I wish now that I had pushed harder. He was ALWAYS looking at real estate up north online, and had a catalog of properties up north (cabins, lakefront, etc) that he was always showing me certain listings and asking me "What do you think of this one?" :) Pipe dreams... gotta love him. I just wish that we had done SOMETHING and that he hadn't had so much stress in his life. :(

He and I wanted to live in the woods and become one with nature & lead a simpler life. We wanted to be married. Frank was going to ask Teddy to be his best man. He wanted to restore his 63 1/2 Ford Galaxie 500 Fastback. He had lots of projects, including a motorcycle, a snowmobile, a boat & a camper. Not to mention NUMEROUS car projects that he just never had the time to get around to.

We talked about what we would be like when we were old. He wanted to be a dirty old man & find a girlfriend in the nursing home with Parkinson's and he would have her "just hold 'it'". XD I was going to be a mean old lady who just doesn't care & says whatever she thinks, including swearing like a sailor. Little did we know, we would never grow old together. </3

What I've learned

I'd always known Frank was born very premature... 3 months early? He was born in the 70s, so it was a miracle that he survived. There wasn't the technology back then that there is now. He'd told me he weighed 2 or 3 pounds when he was born and that his Grandpa Little (whom Frank was named after) could hold him in the palm of his hand. Frank had teeth problems when I met him, and he explained that he was born without enamel because he was a preemie. He'd also told me over the years how he'd struggled with pneumonia as a child & teen quite often, due to his underdeveloped lungs. That was about as much as Frank ever told me. There weren't a lot (if any) photos of him as a newborn, due to the fact that he was in the hospital for the first couple of month & his mom was at a different hospital.

While Frank was in the hospital, we found out that he had more than just lung & enamel problems. His Grandma P. said "I always worried about that boy & his poor little heart." :( We also learned there is a family history of heart problems on BOTH of Frank's sides of the family. I also learned some other things through other people, but I won't write about that now... maybe some other time.

Two years ago, Frank went in for a full physical. He found out he had high cholesterol, but not SCARY high. He was prescribed Simvastatin, and he took them for a couple of months. He also changed his diet & started eating more chicken, turkey & fish. When he went in for a re-check, his cholesterol was normal & good. When he ran out of his meds, he decided that maybe the dietary changes were enough, and never had them refilled. I think he went in ONE more time, and his cholesterol levels were still good. He figured he had fixed everything.

When going through his mail after he died, I found a letter from his health insurance company, and it had never been opened. Inside was an information sheet about "Your Risk for Heart Disease" and explained a bunch of things (like a publication). The letter was dated a year ago. :S So, maybe I wasn't told everything, or Frank thought it was no big deal? I'll never know for sure... 

Over the past 2 years, Frank drank more & more coffee, and over the past year was drinking TWO pots a day at work. After work, he would stop at Starbucks & order his Caramel Latte (espresso, milk, syrup). He also admitted to being tired more often, but we both just chalked it up to age. Over the past couple of months, he put on a little weight in the belly. His shirts fit tighter around the middle, and he would rub his belly & proudly say "Just like my Grandpa!" Grandpa Frank was also thin & trim, except he had a little potbelly. We chalked that up to age as well.

After Frank died, his Mom & talked a lot about him and his infancy. She said that in those first 2 months, they didn't know whether Frank would make it or not, and there were a LOT of ups & downs, highs & lows. It turns out ALL of his vital organs were underdeveloped. At some point he dropped a full pound, so he must have been 1 or 2 pounds. That is just SCARY!!! Eventually he pulled through & was able to go home. The doctors never said he would lead a sickly life, or a shorter life, but maybe they didn't know back then or just didn't want to give his parents a poor prognosis. It's another thing we'll never know. I keep thinking that MAYBE, Frank was destined to live a short life? Maybe this was meant to be? I don't want to think that, but considering all the things from his life health history, maybe it is so...

Regardless, Frank lived life to the fullest. He was obsessed with angels and had many statues, a painting & a tattoo of one on his arm. He said the song "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan had a profound & special meaning to him, and that it had been known to make him cry. I never saw Frank cry... in 11 years. People have said "Maybe he was an angel in training!" all this time. Maybe?

Frank LOVED his family & would give anyone the shirt off his back. He was the most giving person I knew, even though he wasn't rich (at least not with money). He was charitable, open-minded & just easy going. I only saw him get really mad a few times at kids. He was very protective of his family, and this made him a strict parent. He & I only had 2 spats in the whole 11 years, and they were nothing major. We had forgiven & forgotten within minutes. I valued him SO much, and although I said it often, I wonder if he REALLY knew how important he was to me, and to everyone else who knew him. He was very humble, so it's hard to say.

I've learned that life is too short to stay angry or have hatred in your heart. I knew that before, and Frank and I said it often. It isn't worth it to stay angry. My whole life changed for the better after meeting Frank, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I know that I will never find another man that will measure up to him, and I will ALWAYS compare men to him. I doubt I will ever move on, and I am fine with that. I know it might get lonely, especially after kids have all moved out & started their lives, but that is too far into the future for me to see right now. It just hurts that what we had, which was truly unique & wonderful, was taken away WAY too soon. 

We had plans to marry someday, and he always referred to me as his wife. He never used the word 'fiance'' or 'girlfriend'. I've had an engagement ring since Christmas 8 years ago when he proposed to me in front of family. We were living in the farm house in Rosemount at the time. He handed me a large box, and I took the top off and peered into an empty box. Everyone laughed & asked me "What's in there"? I was too dumb too look at the top until I suspected something was up, and there it was... my ring, tied to a string attached to the lid and a note that said "Will  you marry me?" :) 

Time is nothing but a blur...

I know that technically Frank died on May 3rd in the hospital, but I was informed during those last few hours of his life that he actually died in our house. He died ON his couch & the police didn't do anything. When the paramedics/EMTs arrived, they performed CPR, shocked him, intubated & brought him back. I have so many thoughts running through my head. People say not to dwell on these things, that they will make no difference anyway, but I just cannot help it.


I wonder if maybe this would be easier, if I had just gone to bed that night... then I think "The kids would have found him in the morning, and that would have been traumatic as well". I wish that I had pushed him to go to the doctor, but honestly, I never considered "heart attack" to be the issue... after our phone call, I started researching MS symptoms. Then I think, well, maybe the clinic or hospital wouldn't have caught it or maybe he would have had the heart attack in their care, and I wouldn't have had those last few hours with him.


To me, tonight (around 1AM in the morning - technically Tuesday morning, but 1AM will always be "night" to me) will mark 3 weeks since he died. Really, he DID die here... they just brought him back, but it was probably already too late at that point, going all those minutes with no oxygen. :( I just didn't know, never considered it until the doctor told us that in the hours before Frank's heart finally gave up. I consider tonight to be the night, because it is the last time we spoke together... the last time I talked to him & he responded (or vice versa). After 1AM, it was just me talking to him. I cried "Wake up, Frank!" and "Breathe, honey, PLEASE!" over & over. I think I yelled at all the other people to "Help!" and "Save him!" and "Fix him!". Maybe deep down, I really knew he was gone, but suppressed it or something. Denial...


I talked to him in the hospital over the next 2.5 days. I told him how much I loved him & needed him.... how much his kids needed him, and I said it often. I told him he was strong and he could fight this & get better. I told him to show us and the doctors and nurses how strong & stubborn he really was. I joked with him a few times, as did Ashley. I massaged his arms, held his hand, stroked his hair, kissed his forehead and hands, applied Vaseline to his lips and told him "We need to keep those big beautiful lips moist so I can kiss them when you wake up!" I wiped tears and blood from his face, and washed his face. I rubbed his feet & legs, and once, my friend Sheri & I gave him a foot massage at the same time - one foot for each of us. Basically, I truly thought that love could save him... that love could bring him back to us, even if it was only to buy a little more time. Just 5 more minutes would have sufficed...


Before the doctors started to warm him up, they did a preliminary brain activity test. Why? I don't know... to see if it was worth their continued efforts? There WAS brain activity. How much? I don't know. Which parts of his brain was still working? The basic functions required for organ function? Hearing? FEELING? Full comprehension? I'll never know. Once, on the first day, we saw his arm move. Later, my mom saw him blink his eyes. I became more hopeful. When the doctors were told, they put him on paralytics so he COULDN'T move... they said his body was too weak to try to "do" things and it would hinder the healing process, and was too stressful & hard on his body. They were supposed to do another brain scan once they had warmed him up to normal body temperature, but it never happened. I'll always wonder if all those efforts left him in pain... or was he numb, but could hear us? I had hoped maybe they would bring him out of the coma before he died, if just for a few minutes so we could say goodbye & let him know that if it was too hard, it was okay for him to go... but it never happened. Maybe I just watch too much TV and am unrealistic. Frank and I religiously watched House since it first aired and never missed an episode...

Remembering...

Last night we watched "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding". At the end, they were showing this wedding and there were fireworks! I said "I want fireworks at MY wedding!" Then my mom said "Awe..." And then I remembered. :(

The other day, my car was making some weird noise. I thought to myself  "I'll have to call Frank about that!", and then I remembered... 


A week & a half ago, we were standing outside... me, his mom & his sister, and we were trying to figure something out (can't even remember what), but I started to say "We should just call Fr.... " and then I remembered. 


I wonder how many times this kind of thing will happen and for how long? It's SO painful each time. :(

The Programs

Here's the program from Frank's service. I designed them in Photoshop and knew what paper I wanted before I was even halfway done with the actual design. I used to work at an advertising/printing/map business, so I KNOW paper. I wanted Wausau Paper's "Royal Fiber" in "Ice Blue". My dad drove me all the way to St. Paul to get that dang paper. It was another hassle that I should have thought of a week earlier, but it all turned out just fine in the end. The color just reminded me of Frank's eyes... the color itself and the name of the color. Anyways, Sandy (Frank's mom), Robyn (Frank's sister), and Ashley (Frank's oldest daughter) and I chose the poems collectively. My stepmom found some of them, and Ashley found some. We tried to do everything in a way that Frank would have liked or loved. 

The Obituary

Here is the obituary for Frank that my stepmom wrote on behalf of Frank's mom, sister, eldest daughter & myself. We edited it many times, and tried to keep it as casual as Frank was. We skipped the formalities and omitted formal names & last names of some people. We had a very blended family, and didn't want to confuse anyone who didn't know the "technical details". Besides, Frank considered all of our kids as HIS kids and me as his wife. Whether he was talking to old friends or just meeting someone, he would say he had five kids, and referred to me as "the wife" or "my wife". I don't think I ever heard him use the word fiance' or girlfriend. Anyways, we did our best to honor him & reflect his views. 

First entry...

I figured I needed an outlet for my angst & all the other emotions that come after losing a loved one, so I created this blog. Here goes nothing... Two weeks and one day ago, my fiance', my soulmate and my best friend died. Here is what happened... On Monday, April 31st, 2012 (a relatively normal day), Frank called me before he left work. He also called before 5:00, which is early for him. He normally does call me to see if I want him to pick up anything on the way home, or to see what kind of Starbucks drink I wanted. This time was the same, but with an additional conversation: 

Frank: Would you do me a favor? 

Me: Sure. What? 

Frank: Could you call Dr. Salazar & make me an appointment for Wednesday? (Wednesday was to be his day off) 

Me: Okay... what for? 

Frank: Well... I don't know if I want to tell you. I don't want you to freak out. 

Me: I don't think I can call & make you an appointment & NOT tell them what it's for. You'll have to do that. And now I am a little freaked out. What's up? 

Frank: Well, for the past few months, about once a week, something happens to my eyes. For a few seconds they go blurry on the sides... like when you open your eyes under water. 

Me: Okay... 

Frank: I'm worried about MS, because my dad's first symptoms had to do with his peripheral vision. 

Me: Okay. I knew that, though... why would that freak me out? 

Frank: Umm... well, I've been having weird chest pains all day. 

Me: What kind? Like pleurisy? 

Frank: No... I don't know how to describe it. It's like this one time when tore the cartilage between my ribs. It feels like that. 

Me: Okay... 

Frank: Never mind & don't worry. I'll just call when I get home or tomorrow & set up the appointment. 

Me: Okay. Are you on your way home now? 

Frank: First I have to run to the HiHi market & grab the guy's car and bring it to the shop to see what's wrong with it, and then bring it back and let him know. I'm not fixing it or anything, so I shouldn't be too long. 

Me: Okie dokie. I'll see you in a while, then! 

Frank: Love you! 

Me: Love you, too! 

Frank: Bye. 

Me: Buh bye. 

 He showed up about an hour later, set my coffee on my desk, leaned over me and made his funny fish lips kissy face with his eyes closed. I gave him a funny look and said "Uhhh... ". He said "kiss me already!" So I did. Then he said "You look pretty today!" I was like "Um... okay? I haven't done ANYTHING with myself." He said "well, you're always sexy to me." Then he went and sat down on his couch. I thought it a little weird at the time, because he says stuff like that, but usually only if I've done something different and not when he's just walked in the door. On that Monday, I had my hair in a pony (messy & not brushed), no makeup and was wearing my jammies. 

 The day went on as normal, and I had completely forgotten about the earlier phone call. Looking back, I wish I hadn't. He made a phone call to my Uncle Scott to talk about Mandy's car. We watched some TV... House I think. I doodled on the tablet PC (laptop) and was using the tool that turns handwriting into text & was messaging back & forth with Mandy, and relaying messages between her & Frank about the car.

We decided on grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, and Morgan made one for each of us. Our roommate Jody was still hungry, and decided to make more and offered to make us more if we wanted. I said "Yes, please! I'll take another one!" She asked Frank how many more he wanted, and he said "Two?" When she brought the sandwiches to us, they were REALLY heavy and cheese was oozing out of them. I must have made a funny face, because she laughed & said she put two or three pieces of cheese in each sandwich. I thought it was a little overkill, but ate it anyways. Frank ate his with no complaints, either.

While we were eating (in our living room as always), I don't remember how it came up, but we asked Frank to do his impressions for Jody. He did Beavis & Butthead, Pee-wee Herman, and some others that I can't recall. We all laughed, including Frank. Morgan went back to bed (Franki was already in bed), and we continued watching TV. I don't remember everything we watched, but I remember having to pause it often for Frank to tell stories. He was especially cheerful that night. 

Finally, shortly before 1:00 AM, Frank decided to turn in (on his couch). He took his T-Shirt off and rolled over, with his back to me. I remember asking him "You're sleeping on the couch? I thought you were going to bed tonight?" To which he replied "You kept me up late enough as it is. I have to work tomorrow." I sighed in disappointment & we said our "goodnights". A few short minutes later, he started tossing & turning... very energetically. It weirded me out & I said "What's wrong?!?" - usually he falls asleep instantly and is snoring within seconds. He said "I can't get comfortable. It hurts..." I said "your chest again?" He either said yes or nodded... I don't recall exactly. Then he said "I think I'm going to be sick" and went upstairs to use the bathroom. I opened the laptop again & went to WebMD to use the symptom checker. 

He came back down looking very pale. I started asking questions, to which most he said "no". One said to get medical attention as soon as possible, and I told him that. A few more questions, and another pop-up after his answer that said "call 911 IMMEDIATELY!" Onto more questions, and then he suddenly just said "Call an ambulance". I said "Do you want me to drive you? It'd be faster!" He said "no. Just call an ambulance!" I called 911, answered what seemed to be a million questions & was finally told assistance was on the way. (I had to repeat my address 3 times to her). She said to have him sit down in a comfortable position & stay put, so I did. He put on his T-Shirt, and the first cop was there very quickly. The cop asked Frank a bunch of questions. I remember Frank said it felt like "pressure... like someone was sitting on or squeezing his chest". All of the sudden Frank looked "sick" again and I felt his face, hands & arms and he was very clammy (cold, but sweaty). The cop told me to get a bucket or something in case Frank had to throw up. I ran to the kitchen to get something (a black plastic mixing bowl), ran back and set it on the couch in front of Frank. All of the sudden, it looked like he was trying to sweep it away, while looking like he was going to puke and his arms came up in fists and he just FROZE, and started to topple off the couch. The cop said "I think he's having a seizure!" I was talking to Frank, and he was just frozen, laying on the floor & staring at the ceiling and making this awful grunting-exhaling noise. His face started to turn red, then purple, and his eyes were bulging. I yelled "He's not seizing! He's choking or something!"

I remember rubbing Frank's hand & arm and talking to him... telling him to breath... crying, wondering "where the fuck is the damn ambulance?!?" and the cop just standing there. He had another cop there by then & asked him to bring in oxygen. They handed it to me, and told me to put that on Frank's face. Looking back on it now, I wonder why when he clearly was not breathing. :( Frank must have been on the floor frozen for at least 5 minutes (it seemed like 20, though) before the first paramedics came in. A female paramedic started CPR with hand compressions. She did that for a LONG time before EMTs showed up to help. She had to have another person take over the CPR because her arms were so sore & tired. More people showed up & they shocked him with the defibrillator. Then they brought in a machine that did CPR mechanically. The shocked him MANY times, kept the CPR going in intervals, had to intubate, but had a hard time because his jaw was clamped shut. 

It seems like they worked on him for a good half hour or more before they finally got him stable enough to go in the ambulance. Someone told me he had a massive heart attack. I called his mom, his sister and then my mom. I had to take a Xanax just so I could drive to the hospital. I don't remember the exact order of the techniques they used, and don't know the difference between the guys in white, and the guys in black (EMTs vs Paramedics?). I just know they shocked him & did CPR a LOT. 

I followed the ambulance to the hospital & Burnsville, and called my mom crying again. The ambulance was driving SLOW and didn't even have their lights or sirens on. I thought he was dead. I had flashbacks of the story my aunt Penny told me of how it went down when her husband Dave died, and was freaking out. 

Frank's mom, Sandy and his sister, Robyn met me at the hospital. We were ushered into a closed door "family" waiting room behind the nurses station. I freaked out again wondering WHY they put us in THAT room (with comfy chairs & boxes of Kleenex). The head nurse came in to talk to us, and said once they knew his condition (they were working on him) we could go back & see him. I began to have hope.

Shortly after, we were taken back to the E.R. room Frank was in. There were a TON of doctors & nurses doing things to him and all kinds of monitors. He was totally naked, and his clothes had been cut off him. The nurse tried to explain to us what they were doing every few minutes... stents? We were told he had to be transferred to Edina for the "Cath Lab" - I still don't know what that is. They got him stable (or so they said) and we went outside to call his ex and his kids & whatever other family. When we came back in, we were told he crashed again and they had to shock him again. Finally they got him stable enough to move (so they said) and we watched them wheel out his bed and to the ambulance area. On the way through the doors, they HIT the closed door. *cringe*

We had a 3 car caravan following the ambulance to Edina. This ambulance was slow & didn't have lights or sirens on, either. :S At one point, the ambulance stopped at the corner of Nicollet & 42 at the light. The light was red, and we were supposed to turn right, and there was NO traffic to be seen anywhere, and they just sat there for what seemed like another eternity. I called my mom again to keep her updated. She was on her way down from Northern Minnesota with my stepdad.

We finally made it to Edina, and were all put in a waiting room. All his kids were there, his ex & her boyfriend, my roommate, me... We waited HOURS to hear news of what was going on with Frank while he was in the Cath Lab. Finally a doctor came out to tell us they were moving him to ICU, and we'd be able to see him soon. He said Frank was in VERY critical condition, and probably was going to die.

As soon as we were able to, we went & saw him. There were so many monitors, bags & machines hooked up to him that I didn't even try to count or see what they were. He was all swollen, and unconscious. I was told they had put him in a hypothermic coma to prevent any further damage to his organs. They had put in a balloon pump to make his heart work, and he was on blood pressure meds to keep his BP stable. I stayed by his side as much as I could for the entire time Frank was in the hospital. I talked to him, touched him, kissed him, watched him, etc.

He had to be in the coma for 24 hours before they'd start warming him up (while stabilizing him) to see what kind of damage was done & what the next step was to be. They did an initial brain scan (although they said they wouldn't do one until he was normal temperature again), and there WAS brain activity. I took this as a good sign. They put him on paralytics because we had seen his arm move, and my mom saw him blink. He was also on sedatives & painkillers. We were told by Frank's nurses that he was THE most critical patient in the hospital, and they had NEVER put anyone on such a high dose of the blood pressure meds before. Another nurse had told us that if it weren't for his age, they wouldn't have been working on him so hard. Frank's oldest daughter Ashley, his mom, his sister & I ALL told EVERYONE to do WHATEVER it takes, regardless of cost. Frank has 5 kids and his fiance' and a month old grandson and NONE of us can afford to lose him.

Later that day there were talks about airlifting him to the U of M for a mechanical heart, but it turned out he wasn't stable enough to move. Then they discussed opening up his abdomen & covering it with mesh so that his organs would have room to move, and they could get rid of some of the fluid retention... but again, he was too unstable to move (even to the operating room downstairs).

They started to warm him up at about 5:30 AM Wednesday morning. About mid-day, one of his team doctors told us that his liver function had improved, his blood pressure was stable, his blood oxygen was improving. I started to be REALLY hopeful. We were so hopeful, that some people went home to get some sleep. I stayed in his room with him until the wee hours of morning. My left ankle had swollen so bad that I had to go sit down more & more often (turned out I had cellulitis). I had noticed his nurse Deb was doing a lot more checking, adjusting & documenting the machines & calling doctors with techno mumbo jumbo that I didn't understand. I just figured it was all part of the warming process & to be expected. We had been told that the warming process was going to be the scariest part.

Nurse Deb told me to go get some rest, that there were no significant changes, and that if anything changed, she would come get me. I went to lie down & try to get my foot up at 3:00 AM. At 3:30 AM we were woken up to talk to a doctor. Ashley & I followed the doctor & nurse past Frank's room, and down a LONG hall deeper into the ICU wing and into a consultation room. We were told that his blood pressure was dropping & his oxygen levels had dropped again, and that they couldn't do anything more for him, and that he wasn't going to make it. We went back to Frank's room crying & talking to him. Ashley went to call her mom to tell her to come back with the kids, because their dad wasn't going to make it. I called Frank's sister to tell her, and asked her to tell his mom because I couldn't bear to make that phone call.

Right after I hung up, and Ashley was on her way back down the hall, the doctor came out & said he needed to know what we wanted to do because things were happening very fast. I said "I don't know what you mean? Save him!" And Ashley said "Do whatever it takes!" The doctor got mad (or frustrated) and said "If I do anything to bring him back again, it would be TORTURE! I refuse to torture him!" I said "I can't make this decision... " and walked back into the room to be with Frank. When Sandy & Robyn arrived, Sandy wanted them to do whatever it takes as well, so the doctor had to explain everything again. We were told he was on life support, and I hadn't even known that the whole time... I just thought everything was to make him better... help him heal. They said they didn't KNOW if he could feel or not... I couldn't stand the thought of him being in pain, or going through the shocking, cooling & warming process all over again. 

Finally, as a family we all agreed. The damage was just too tremendous. We had been told by one doctor that all they were doing was buying more time. I had hopes for a heart transplant... hoped to at least get to see him awake & let him know I loved him, and that if he was too weak, it was okay to go... I just wanted a goodbye.

Shortly before 5:00 AM on Thursday the 3rd of May, 2012, Frank's heart stopped beating. He never woke up. We said our goodbyes, but they weren't returned.... same with the I love yous. He was surrounded by his family & extended family. I talked to him right up to the end... and even after.

We were asked to leave the room so they could clean him up and get him looking better so we could say our last goodbyes. I think I was the first to go in afterwards, and I don't know how long I sat there with him... crying, talking to him, holding & caressing his hand, hugging him, kissing his cold lips, running my fingers through his hair... I left the hospital to take a walk & be alone. I told everyone I didn't want to talk and didn't want to be touched. I sat in my car & smoked a cigarette, numb & frozen in some state of shock.  

People came & left... said goodbye to Frank, and that was that. I went in 3 more times before I actually left the building and headed back to my mom's motel room. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I couldn't bear to go home. We had lived together for 10.5 years, had a 9 year old daughter together, 3 dogs, 2 cats, my 17 year old daughter that considered Frank "Dad". Home just wouldn't be the same...

Frank was 40 years old, not a drug user or drinker. He wasn't overweight. He had a history of high cholesterol that he'd thought was under control (the levels were never SCARY high). He loved his coffee, food & cigarettes and he loved his family and loved his job. He had a Massive STEMI Heart Attack. He left behind five kids... ages 19, 17, 17, 15 and 9... me, his parents, his sister, nephews, nieces & cousins... TONS of friends, acquaintances & loyal customers.