Thank you, soon to not be a stranger.
August 28, 2012
And this is just a glimpse into what can happen when you let yourself be vulnerable and you let your life expand.
Even if the part of your life has some sadness in it.
August 27, 2012
"Life is Slippery. Here, Take My Hand."
If I put this entry off any longer, I will never write it.
I still don't really know what story I want to tell here. The one about the love I had with Greg, the one that tells the tale of his last days, or the one that describes how it is getting harder to get out of bed every day rather than easier. I feel I may run out of words. Or will.
So this will be part one. The days leading up to his death. The technicalities. Some of the answers to the questions such as 'how did it happen?' and 'how did he go so quickly, he was doing so well?' The moment of his death is a chapter all its own, and I will do my best to summon the emotional strength to delve into that pool one more time for you.
On Monday the 11th he was having a lot of trouble breathing. After seeing his doctors, they upped his anti-rejection meds and steroids and the line between his sickness and his side effects started to blur. It was a hard week. He barely slept. He had to sit down from breathlessness from just going to the washroom. He didn't eat. He was miserable and uncomfortable all the time.
"I have a follow up appointment on Tuesday, Mee. Let's just give it the weekend for the meds to do their thing..."
So we did.
On Saturday evening while he was sitting at our kitchen table, I caught an expression on his face. One I had never seen before.
"Baby, are you scared?" I asked him.
He started to tear up and he nodded.
"I just don't want to leave you."
Leave me. Not die. He was never afraid to die. But this was the first time I had ever seen him afraid that he might not make it. And it terrified me.
On Monday I came home from work at 10am. He was having what I can only describe as an escalating panic attack from not being able to catch his breath. I called the ambulance. Once they came I packed his overnight bag, as I always did when he had to stay at the hospital, and went to meet him in Emergency. On the 15 minute drive to the hospital I saw three dead animals on the road. I started to cry.
When we got in to see him, there was something not quite right. He was agitated. He wasn't faintly smiling like he always did. He looked worried. These are things Greg almost never expressed when he was in the hospital. It was always much more important for him to feign casual comfort for the emotional stability of his family. He would always fake a smile, crack a joke, anything just to see me smile, too. And he could barely look at me.
"It's just because he hasn't gotten any sleep and he has been miserable this entire week," James said. I nodded.
But that wasn't it.
By the next morning the doctor decided it would be best to sedate him while the body healed. This is also known as putting someone in a medically induced coma. It was for the best, they said. It will just be for a couple of days, they said.
That was the last time I saw him awake. The last time I told him I loved him and knew he could hear me. The last time I felt him squeeze my hand back.
In lieu of telling the same minutia of medical and emotional drama that followed the next 2 weeks, I will share with you excerpts of the Evernote I was sharing with Greg titled "The Hospital Diaries." My plan was to document life as he slept so when he awoke he would have stories and something to fill in a few of the blanks he may have. Excuse the typos. I have left it unedited for posterity.
Note: The Evernote audio files are usually just me singing our silly songs to him and telling him I love him through muffled tears and outright sobs until I compose myself and apologize and tell him I will try to do this again tomorrow. It always ended up the same way.
Note: I still have the plastic piece. I sits on a statue of Thor with a lock of his hair. It took me a week to move it from the floor after he died.
And that was as far as I got before it started to become much too scary for me for carry on. I couldn't conceive of documenting anything as just getting through the day was a feat. There were complications, "set backs", improvements, and the unexpected. It was a fucking ridiculous roller coaster and every day became a bit more grim than the last.
Until the Friday when they said that his prognosis had stabilized and his oxygen was excellent. They took the dialysis machine off of him, they had quit his plasmapheresis and it looked like they could start taking him off sedation by Saturday. The family was so excited we went to the Tymofichuk's for a celebratory barbecue. We raised our glasses for Greg and my heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.
And then James got off the phone with the hospital.
"Greg had a stroke."
By the time we got there, the doctors explained that the stroke may have been bleeding for days. The damage was "extensive." They couldn't guarantee that he would have the brain function to keep himself alive on his own.
I recall standing beside Greg's bed, reading Tina Fey's Bossypants to him and laughing, when the devastating reality was explained to us. Behind me, I heard Marie collapse in wails. I heard Randy, the rock of the family, reduced to tears. I heard James start repeating "no... no..." until they, too, became ruined sobs. I rested my head beside Greg and stroked his hair, softly telling him that I loved him and that I would be okay and that he could go. I didn't even believe that I would be okay, but I knew that the only thing that would keep Greg clinging to this life was his desperation to stay with me and take care of me. I was so intent on making sure he knew he could move on that I don't even think I remembered to cry myself.
"You have to make a decision..." the doctor said. We knew what she was talking about.
As soon as it became clear that the Greg we knew had already slipped through our fingers, we left for a sleepness night only to return in the morning with a unanimous decision.
"I would love that man if the only part of him that remained alive was his left foot but I would never do that to him."
The family agreed.
We were all together the next morning; Randy, Marie, James, Anne, and his best friend Nathan. The shock and sadness was trumped only by the overwhelming love and support everyone had in that room for each other. And for Greg.
"Leave it to Greg to wait until we could all be together before he passed..." I said.
"He was always so fucking considerate."
It was good to hear everyone laugh.
It would be awhile before we would do it again.
cont...
I still don't really know what story I want to tell here. The one about the love I had with Greg, the one that tells the tale of his last days, or the one that describes how it is getting harder to get out of bed every day rather than easier. I feel I may run out of words. Or will.
So this will be part one. The days leading up to his death. The technicalities. Some of the answers to the questions such as 'how did it happen?' and 'how did he go so quickly, he was doing so well?' The moment of his death is a chapter all its own, and I will do my best to summon the emotional strength to delve into that pool one more time for you.
On Monday the 11th he was having a lot of trouble breathing. After seeing his doctors, they upped his anti-rejection meds and steroids and the line between his sickness and his side effects started to blur. It was a hard week. He barely slept. He had to sit down from breathlessness from just going to the washroom. He didn't eat. He was miserable and uncomfortable all the time.
"I have a follow up appointment on Tuesday, Mee. Let's just give it the weekend for the meds to do their thing..."
So we did.
 |
| The last photo he ever took with the caption "Good morning sunshine #nofilter #rejection?" http://ink361.com/#/users/1125425/photos |
"Baby, are you scared?" I asked him.
He started to tear up and he nodded.
"I just don't want to leave you."
Leave me. Not die. He was never afraid to die. But this was the first time I had ever seen him afraid that he might not make it. And it terrified me.
On Monday I came home from work at 10am. He was having what I can only describe as an escalating panic attack from not being able to catch his breath. I called the ambulance. Once they came I packed his overnight bag, as I always did when he had to stay at the hospital, and went to meet him in Emergency. On the 15 minute drive to the hospital I saw three dead animals on the road. I started to cry.
When we got in to see him, there was something not quite right. He was agitated. He wasn't faintly smiling like he always did. He looked worried. These are things Greg almost never expressed when he was in the hospital. It was always much more important for him to feign casual comfort for the emotional stability of his family. He would always fake a smile, crack a joke, anything just to see me smile, too. And he could barely look at me.
"It's just because he hasn't gotten any sleep and he has been miserable this entire week," James said. I nodded.
But that wasn't it.
By the next morning the doctor decided it would be best to sedate him while the body healed. This is also known as putting someone in a medically induced coma. It was for the best, they said. It will just be for a couple of days, they said.
 |
| This was the last text I ever received from him. |
That was the last time I saw him awake. The last time I told him I loved him and knew he could hear me. The last time I felt him squeeze my hand back.
In lieu of telling the same minutia of medical and emotional drama that followed the next 2 weeks, I will share with you excerpts of the Evernote I was sharing with Greg titled "The Hospital Diaries." My plan was to document life as he slept so when he awoke he would have stories and something to fill in a few of the blanks he may have. Excuse the typos. I have left it unedited for posterity.
Note: The Evernote audio files are usually just me singing our silly songs to him and telling him I love him through muffled tears and outright sobs until I compose myself and apologize and tell him I will try to do this again tomorrow. It always ended up the same way.
And that was as far as I got before it started to become much too scary for me for carry on. I couldn't conceive of documenting anything as just getting through the day was a feat. There were complications, "set backs", improvements, and the unexpected. It was a fucking ridiculous roller coaster and every day became a bit more grim than the last.
Until the Friday when they said that his prognosis had stabilized and his oxygen was excellent. They took the dialysis machine off of him, they had quit his plasmapheresis and it looked like they could start taking him off sedation by Saturday. The family was so excited we went to the Tymofichuk's for a celebratory barbecue. We raised our glasses for Greg and my heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.
And then James got off the phone with the hospital.
"Greg had a stroke."
By the time we got there, the doctors explained that the stroke may have been bleeding for days. The damage was "extensive." They couldn't guarantee that he would have the brain function to keep himself alive on his own.
I recall standing beside Greg's bed, reading Tina Fey's Bossypants to him and laughing, when the devastating reality was explained to us. Behind me, I heard Marie collapse in wails. I heard Randy, the rock of the family, reduced to tears. I heard James start repeating "no... no..." until they, too, became ruined sobs. I rested my head beside Greg and stroked his hair, softly telling him that I loved him and that I would be okay and that he could go. I didn't even believe that I would be okay, but I knew that the only thing that would keep Greg clinging to this life was his desperation to stay with me and take care of me. I was so intent on making sure he knew he could move on that I don't even think I remembered to cry myself.
"You have to make a decision..." the doctor said. We knew what she was talking about.
As soon as it became clear that the Greg we knew had already slipped through our fingers, we left for a sleepness night only to return in the morning with a unanimous decision.
"I would love that man if the only part of him that remained alive was his left foot but I would never do that to him."
The family agreed.
We were all together the next morning; Randy, Marie, James, Anne, and his best friend Nathan. The shock and sadness was trumped only by the overwhelming love and support everyone had in that room for each other. And for Greg.
"Leave it to Greg to wait until we could all be together before he passed..." I said.
"He was always so fucking considerate."
It was good to hear everyone laugh.
It would be awhile before we would do it again.
cont...
July 27, 2012
July 25, 2012
June 27, 2012
June 26, 2012
Note to Self: Letter to Everyone.
If you want to be understood- understand.
If you want to be forgiven- forgive.
If you want to be loved- love.
If you want to be supported- support.
If you want to be energized- be the energy.
If you want support- support each other.
If you want to be heard- listen.
If you want to laugh- be funny.
If you want to be accepted- do not judge.
If you want to feel beautiful- spread beauty.
If you want to be healed- heal your loved ones.
If you want to feel flattered- compliment others.
If you want to be reminded that others really do care about you- love them so much that you feel your heart may rupture.
If you want the love of your life to come back home healthy and happy and full of hope for the future- give others a reason to live life unabashedly and honestly and fully and beautifully.
It does not start and end with us.
Even if some nights if feels that way.
I owe it to Greg to make sure the life he comes back to is more joyous than the one he almost left behind.
If you want to be forgiven- forgive.
If you want to be loved- love.
If you want to be supported- support.
If you want to be energized- be the energy.
If you want support- support each other.
If you want to be heard- listen.
If you want to laugh- be funny.
If you want to be accepted- do not judge.
If you want to feel beautiful- spread beauty.
If you want to be healed- heal your loved ones.
If you want to feel flattered- compliment others.
If you want to be reminded that others really do care about you- love them so much that you feel your heart may rupture.
If you want the love of your life to come back home healthy and happy and full of hope for the future- give others a reason to live life unabashedly and honestly and fully and beautifully.
It does not start and end with us.
Even if some nights if feels that way.
I owe it to Greg to make sure the life he comes back to is more joyous than the one he almost left behind.
June 25, 2012
The Vows Of Those Who Are Not Married. And May Never Be.
"Greg and Sheena have not come together to make a solemn promise or to exchange a sacred vow based upon antiquated tradition."
I have never been a marriage girl, but I have always had the heart of a child, and the devotion of a warrior. I have imagined what Greg and I might say to those who have witnessed our love these past 4 years, and what vows without vows might sound like.
A wedding without a wedding.
A ceremony without tradition.
A declaration from one beautiful wandering mess to another...
Our love for each other: an active noticement to our truth; to declare our choice to live and partner and grow together- out loud and in the presence of friends and family and foe, out of our desire that we will all come to experience a very real and intimate part of our joy, and thus make it even more powerful. Even more joyful. For all of us.
We love in the further hope that our bond will help bring us all closer together. If you are reading this tonight with a spouse or partner, let this be a reminder- a rededication- of your own loving bond. And how you have influenced us to love more, listen harder, forgive easier, and embrace more often.
It is my firm belief that we are not entering into our relationship for reasons of security... that the only real security is not in owning or possessing, nor in being owned or possessed. Not in demanding or expecting, and not even in hoping, that what we think we need in life will be supplied by the other... but rather, in knowing that everything we need in life- all the love, all the wisdom, all the insight, all the power, all the knowledge, all the understanding, all the nurturing, all the compassion, and all the strength- is present. And already resides here. With us. Whether we remember that or not.
I love you. I miss you. I am Yours.
~ Sheena
I have never been a marriage girl, but I have always had the heart of a child, and the devotion of a warrior. I have imagined what Greg and I might say to those who have witnessed our love these past 4 years, and what vows without vows might sound like.
A wedding without a wedding.
A ceremony without tradition.
A declaration from one beautiful wandering mess to another...
Our love for each other: an active noticement to our truth; to declare our choice to live and partner and grow together- out loud and in the presence of friends and family and foe, out of our desire that we will all come to experience a very real and intimate part of our joy, and thus make it even more powerful. Even more joyful. For all of us.
We love in the further hope that our bond will help bring us all closer together. If you are reading this tonight with a spouse or partner, let this be a reminder- a rededication- of your own loving bond. And how you have influenced us to love more, listen harder, forgive easier, and embrace more often.
It is my firm belief that we are not entering into our relationship for reasons of security... that the only real security is not in owning or possessing, nor in being owned or possessed. Not in demanding or expecting, and not even in hoping, that what we think we need in life will be supplied by the other... but rather, in knowing that everything we need in life- all the love, all the wisdom, all the insight, all the power, all the knowledge, all the understanding, all the nurturing, all the compassion, and all the strength- is present. And already resides here. With us. Whether we remember that or not.
We are not together in the other in hopes of getting these things, but in hopes of giving these things, that the other might have them in even greater abundance.
It is my firm understanding we have not entered into our relationship as a means of in any way
limiting, controlling, hindering, or restricting each other from any
true expression and honest celebration of that which is the highest and
best from within us, including each others' love of life, love of people, love of creativity, love of work, or any aspect of our being which genuinely represents us, and brings us joy. Including Greg's facial hair and my love of Twitter.
I have said that I do not see marriage as producing obligations but rather as providing opportunities. Opportunities for growth, for full self-expression, for lifting our lives to their highest potential, for healing every false thought
or small idea we may have ever had about ourselves & others, and for ultimate reunion with humanity through the communion of our two souls and what that may inspire in others. A journey through life
with one you love as an equal partner, sharing equally both the
authority and the responsibilities inherent in any partnership, bearing
equally what burdens there be, basking equally in the glories.
For love cannot be possessed, nor can it be restricted. And the soul's desire can never be manipulated, can never be entrapped. (Trust me, I have tried.)
So, to be my partner, my lover, my friend,
and my confident, I announce and declare my intention to give you, Greg, my
deepest friendship and love. Not only when your moments are high, but when they are low. Not only when you remember clearly Who
You Really Are, but when you forget. Not only when you are acting with love, but when you are selfish and rude and dismissive and thoughtless, or during whatever moments of darkness that may come. And in light of recent events, we know that they will.
I recognize with full awareness that only a couple can administer
the sacrament of dedication to each other, and only a couple can sanctify
it. Neither a church, nor any power vested by the government, nor jewelry, nor social pressures, can
grant us the authority to declare what only two hearts can declare, and
what only two people can make real. WE make our own rules here. And we can break the shit out of those rules whenever we see fit. Even if just because one Saturday night we get drunk and just feel like it.
May those who are nearest to us be constantly enriched by the beauty
and the bounty of our love for one another, may our adoration be a source of joy in our life together that serves ourselves, our loved ones, and the world, and may our days together be good and long upon the Earth.
I love you. I miss you. I am Yours.
~ Sheena
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