News stories are emerging about him. Preliminary reports say it was a heart attack, pending a toxicology report from the coroner’s office.
I have no one to talk to about this. I was trained to not discuss the gory details of medical calls with family and friends. They didn’t sign up for the job. They’re not prepared, nor equipped to handle gory recounting of details of death and dismemberment. Only in cases of mass incidents or the death of children, would we be offered a counseling session to talk things out. So I feel it would be wrong for me to try to talk to someone about this. It’s not fair to put this on friends or family. I understand that. I don’t even think I should tell my therapist- I don’t know that she could handle the whole story with all the gory details that are haunting me. I don’t think so. It’s driving me so mad that I thought about asking her to reschedule our appointment sooner because I can’t handle this anymore.
I’m pretty sure I carry this weight alone. And I guess that’s ok.
Sleeping pills aren’t working. I haven’t slept well in days. Tonight, I’m going to take and do all I can just to sleep. Truthfully, I’m going to get as messed up as possible. I know that sounds incredibly immature, but I’m desperate for a respite here.
I see him all the time. The disparity in how he was when he was alive to how I saw him when I spent all those hours with him…I just can’t get it out of my head. I mean, where do you put all of that anyway? Where does it belong? At any rate, I have no control over it. It comes to me constantly and I see him.
I see his smile and remember him as he was talking with his son by the lake. Then I see his open mouth when he was dead…his teeth, his tongue lolled back, the blood…I hear the gurgling when he would receive breaths.
I can’t handle this right now. I feel like I should be able to, but I can’t. I want to run, to go away…I long to escape…it’s almost unbearable how much I want and need that.