So sorry about what happened and I can well imagine how hard it is to “just wait for the results”. I hope you get a very clear answer in the end and I also hope that your sister can somehow realize the truth of what jsgoddess had to say about what happens when you lose a spouse. I’m glad your sister has you to help her through this; it sounds like you have a good grasp on what sort of person Mike really was. Good luck to both of you during this terrible time.
Help me solve the real-life mystery about my late brother-in-law (apologies for novella-like length)
I’m so very sorry. What agony you both must be in.
I just wanted to address the night sweats. He was diabetic, and night sweats can be caused by hypoglycemia at night if he was taking medication.
This would be my theory, adding that, IME, it is deceptively easy to do too much coke – in fact, I recall the coke all but begging me to do more, and it can be hard to tell when you get to “too much”.
I can’t help with the medical questions, but perhaps I can help with understanding some of the possibilities.
First, the hiding illness. I’m not suggesting he was ill, but if he was, and he hid it, that’s really not so strange. We all think that if we find out we’re dying, we’ll immediately make a long bucket list and then run around like crazy people trying to do everything before we go.
But it’s happened to me twice, at different stages of life, that doctors led me to believe my time was short. (Spoiler: I made it.) And both times I had no interest at all in rushing out to do things. The most precious thing imaginable to me was a normal day. I wanted as many normal days as I could get before I had to go. So I hid it from everybody, and made excuses for my lethargy, and tried for as long as possible to just be.
So maybe he had a similar reaction.
Also, I’ve got some experience with addicts. People can stay sober for 40 years and then suddenly go back out. They go back out when they are stressed, or when their lives have become dull and routine. They go back out to celebrate a great joy, or to numb themselves from grief. They go back out when they just plain want to, and when they absolutely don’t want to.
And very, very often, people who have given up drugs, but not alcohol, will get drunk, and do something stupid, and then wind up dead from the drugs. The alcohol wears away their inhibitions, but it’s not quite the high they really want, and then Boom! The lightening strike of coincidental availability finally occurs, and they are gone. Just like that.
There’s a saying in AA that while you are sober your disease progresses nonetheless. I have quite a few anecdotal confirmations on this point. One man went back out on the night of his 42nd AA anniversary. Within two days his wife had to bail him out of jail, and in two more days he was dead.
I think some of it is that they try to use exactly as “hard” as they did at the time that they quit, but their bodies have lost that tolerance. Another part is that, having given up their sober life, there’s a feeling of inevitability - moderation will avail them nothing, so they just slam it.
It’s entirely possible that he wasn’t sick after all, and he didn’t do any drugs. Maybe it was just his time. It happens.
Try to help your sister stop asking,and just accept that it has happened, and why doesn’t really matter. She needs to be reassured that the face he presented to her was genuine. If he hid something, it was because he loved his life with her and didn’t want it to change. Dwelling on suppositions and allowing one’s mind to constantly grind away trying to figure out something when there isn’t enough information to go on is a sure route to insanity and misery.
Her brain will pick itself to death over this if she lets it. She must make a conscious decision to re-train her thoughts elsewhere. And encourage her to cherish her memories, and give herself permission to just sit and sift through them. Keeping memories fresh at a time like this is very important. It may bring on the tears,but tears are a tool that she needs to use right now. Don’t be afraid of them.
I hope some of this is helpful. And I hope you’ll ignore any part of it that isn’t.
I’m sorry for your loss.
This will be short (for me) because Carla’s over now sleeping on the other half of my bed (staying in her apartment’s too painful right now, so this is her haven I guess) and I’m afraid she’ll wake up and spot me posting, and I, um, haven’t told her I wrote about this.
I’m so grateful for your immensely helpful, supportive and informative posts–whether with medical info, drug knowledge, or (all too sadly) experience of your own grief.
I’ll write more tomorrow to respond to your comments properly, but I couldn’t let the night pass without a proper acknowledgement. I’m continually touched and surprised by how thoughtful strangers can be. And now I’m teary so I’d better go.
Thank you.
choie, I think you’re over-interpreting. As jsgoddess mentioned, there are a thousand weird things that all of us do every day that would look like clues to our secret identities if we died suddenly, but are really just random passing thoughts. You’re trying to put them all together and torturing yourself in the meantime. Could this his life have been a cancer- and drug- filled sham? Sure, but more likely:
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His tactless business associate knows bupkis and is either confusing him with someone else or simply wrong. I had a secretary once who was convinced I had life-threatening asthma and every time I was late or called out sick, she would worry that I was in the ER for my non-existent asthma. Nothing I could say would convince her otherwise. I can totally picture her coming up to my parents after a fatal burning car wreck and saying “did she wreck because of her asthma?”
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At some point, someone mentioned disability insurance to him, and being the upstanding protective husband he is, he thought “hey, health problems happen and I ride a bike all over town and I could get into an accident - I should look into that”. Either he mentioned it to Carla as a passing thought, and she has since forgotten, or he presented it as a joint decision to his friend because he was intending to get insurance for both of himself and Carla. Then he forgot all about it.
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He was at a party, having a good time. He knows coke is available, because coke is always available in a restaurant, and he mentions it to a friend who seems to be winding down/tiring out. He may or may not have had any intention of doing some himself.
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He had a terrible, tragic heart attack. Since he was living a full life, he left a lot of loose ends.
Seriously, go through your own browsing history/sent email files as if you were a forensic detective and tell me you wouldn’t be convinced that you have a secret life running guns for the KGB.
Right off the bat, I’d like to say that I’m so sorry, choie. Mike sounded like he was a wonderful person. I hope that you and Carla can find some closure soon.
As to the mystery, I agree with mischievous’s sentiment… I think that these are just random pieces of a much larger puzzle that may or may not (actually, probably don’t) mean anything. And he might’ve been afraid at one point that the cancer was returning, and that spurred him to talk about it some / check into things, yet once he began feeling better again, just kind of developed a wait and see attitude about it. I mean, at any given moment, I have about a million irons in the fire. You have no idea how many of those get tossed by the wayside, if I remember them at all.
I also think that if there was cocain (and if that source is to be trusted), it really could’ve been a one-off due to the circumstances or he might’ve occasionally partook every once in a blue moon just because. Then like others said, add in that to other past (and current) health issues, and the results can be fatal. So, yeah. I think even though looking through the lens of daily activity, all this seems out of place for a fit fellow, but overall, maybe not as mysterious as first glance.
I hope you both get all the answers you need. Hang in there.
I’m so sorry about your loss, Choie.
I can only suggest that getting through the 4-6 weeks until you know… prepare for the worst result, but hope for the best.
Questions can rip you apart if you let them… so don’t let them.
Also, if it was coke, nobody needs to know. The man died from a heart attack in his fifties and a lot of guys have died the same way.
I have read and reread the post and I think some people should shut their slandering mouths.
First of all there is no evidence that his cancer came back. I may or may not keep it secret from my family at first, if/when I get that problem, but certainly not from my doctor.
Even if I should decide that chemo isn’t worth it again, there are so many other concerns.
Secondly, even if he tried to get a drug using friend to stay a little longer by telling about the favors, he would not necessarily partake of those favors himself.
I don’t think there need to be any other reasons for the tragedy than high pressure lifestyle, diabetes, perhaps overeating and staying up late. I guess that’s what the verdict will be.
I’m sorry you are going through this.
Me again. God, I am so physically and psychically tired. I’m embarrassed to be relieved that Carla is spending today with one of her oldest friends upstate. I need a bit of respite. Then again, I have the luxury of getting a respite; Carla doesn’t. So I’m feeling like a terrible sister. The depth of her grief scares me at times and I’m ultimately useless. (Ugh but that’s another topic, sorry, I don’t mean to talk about my own issues.)
Anyway. I’m saying thank you so often that some may think it has no more meaning, but it really and truly does. I continually find myself surprised by such kindness, as I never expect it. So I hope you know my gratitude is absolutely sincere and deeply felt.
jsgoddess, I remember your losing your husband recently… perhaps in the past couple of years? (OMG I just checked… 2009. Still not ages ago, but I can’t believe I misjudged so poorly. Where did the time go?) And faithfool, you as well… just last year, IIRC. Both of you are so sweet to respond; your words are very meaningful and I will absolutely be sharing them with Carla.
It’s so true, certain events/statements stand out more because of all the questions Carla has (which sure ain’t helped by the obliging bystanders who keep sharing this unhelpful trivia to her). But they’re not an accurate reflection of the totality of their relationship. As TruCelt so astutely observes, even if Mike hid stuff, it was because he loved her. A couple of random details doesn’t indicate a pattern, not when you consider the entire five years of their relationship.
But that’s something she will hopefully accept over time. We’ll just have to take one day at a time. Tonight is just two weeks since that damn reunion. That’s nothing. Right now I’m just endlessly having to reassure her of things that to me seem unquestionable but with a sudden loss, the questions are almost inevitable:
Did Mike know she loved him? Did she take him for granted? Was he disappointed by her, was she a terrible wife because she sometimes had bad moods, was his death her fault for not getting him to slow down?
And so on. It’s painful to hear her doubting herself but that’s grief for you. I remember going through similar (but not on the same level) regrets/guilt after my mom died when I was 19. That’s not even including the whole side issues of cancer/drugs that she’s adding to her burden.
Thanks also to all those who’ve noted that heart issues (especially given his age, diabetes and past history) are hardly surprising, and that if–if–there was drug use that night, it’s even more of a time bomb. That article, I think linked by astro, was enlightening regarding how coke use affects people even 48 hours the actual intake. That answers at least one of those three medical questions I had.
I totally agree that there are very good possibilities in both the notion that Tom Tildrum mentions–that being with his old friends could have been a reason for him to slide back into a one-time nostalgic drug-use event–as well as the idea that I’ve also considered, brought up by mischievous, that just because Mike referred to “party favors” to his friend doesn’t mean that Mike was partaking in them.
Either way, it really doesn’t signify. The worst and only really important part of any of this is that he’s gone. It seems extremely likely it was heart-related. Otherwise, short of something bizarre like poison, either self-administered or someone of murderous intent (and please please be aware I am only using as a ‘for instance,’ not a real theory!!), do the details really matter?
I don’t even know if he was drinking that night. Funny, I don’t remember ever seeing him drink. Not that this means anything, I’m not much of a social animal so I rarely went out with him somewhere where there was alcohol, but I don’t think he drank anything other than wine, and not to excess. But again, it was a party, and one full of old friends with whom he shared a certain rowdy past. So who knows. And, again, who cares. We’ll find out from the toxicology report and aside from possibly edifying us as to cause (not all autopsies actually do find a conclusive cause of death) and thus answering at least that question, that’s really it.
Jennshark, you bring up a good point; addicts are certainly good at hiding their usage. I think pill use would’ve been easier to hide than coke. But that wasn’t his thing. Last year during his herniated disc recovery, his doc prescribed him some Oxycontin, but he stopped taking them after two days because he didn’t like the way they made him feel, and also didn’t want to rely on them. Stubborn dude. (That was the only medication he’s taken in a long time, to those who asked: no heart-related or diabetes meds.)
(Also, Jennshark, that is horrible about your sister’s fiancé! Terrible. Your poor sister!)
To psychobunny… wow. What a fantastically informative post! You’ve pretty much answered the rest of the medical questions I had. I hope this doesn’t sound cold (especially given my initial paragraph above) but I found the details fascinating simply as an author who focuses on mysteries.
Re the autopsy rationale: I checked and in NYS, apparently, autopsies are mandatory when the person isn’t in a hospital, has no doctor in attendance, and is in “apparent good health.” (This disregards obvious other reasons like murder or possible suicide.)
I suppose that last one–“apparent good health”–is debatable given his past history (and current diabetes), but maybe that wasn’t enough to satisfy the ME on site.
Yes! That’s precisely what I said to Carla! At this point who the hell knows. Well, I guess we’ll know whenever we get the final report. In October. (Oy.)
I’m soooo going to emphasize stuff that faithfool, mischievous, jsgoddess, kayT, TruCelt (how awesome that you’re better and defied your doctors’ prognoses!!) and so many of you said.
The issue that needs to be emphasized over and over to my brokenhearted sister. The reality of Mike’s behavior, personality and meaningful relationships is what matters most. Not the possibility of some omission/deception, and that’s really all it is, there’s literally no evidence whatsoever except that single email re: the disability and that could indeed mean nothing.
TruCelt’s final paragraphs really get to the heart of it:
I am doing all I can to remind her, and share my own fond and funny memories of Mike, and all the incalculable little ways he brightened our lives–the little handmade signs or doodles he put on their front door to make her laugh when she got home from work, his singing to her, the TED talks or obscure documentaries he’d show her, his irreverent “Jesus Is Coming! Look Busy!” t-shirt–and the bigger things: his warmth toward me, their shared passion for justice, his integrity, and the fact that his love was absolutely unconditional.
The only thing I want to correct is just the tiniest thing, from mischievous"
(Just snipping the rest for brevity HA HA HA yeah, like I know about brevity!)
I actually agree with your (and faithfool’s) hypotheses completely, mischievous–if I’ve given the impression that I’m the one who’s over-interpreting or torturing myself, I’ve done a bad job of expressing myself. I’m only writing this, and offering these questions, because Carla is torturing herself. What I think is the most likely scenario is that he probably felt bad at some point in June, maybe went through some private angst about it including contacting his dad etc., but felt better and realized nothing was wrong. And he died of some heart-related event that was unexpected but not hugely surprising given his history. End of story. (That was option “A” in my dissertation-length OP… which you and every other sane person can be forgiven for not reading!)
My delving deeper here is my attempt to combat Carla’s wildly desperate questions and doubts, looking for you guys to provide new arguments (thanks to the SDMB group zeitgeist’s better knowledge and objectivity) that I can use in my weary efforts to bring Carla some peace.
LOL, tell me about it: I’ve been reading Caleb Carr’s The Alienist, and thanks to that and this thread, my web history consists mostly of gruesome serial killer data and stuff about cocaine use and heart-related deaths. God only knows what people would think.
(Admittedly, being an author is a convenient excuse for a lot of dubious search histories.)
It’s also so true that people should shut their stupid mouths! I haven’t even mentioned Mike’s ex-wife who with saccharine sweetness implied she could tell Carla all about Mike (despite not having dealt with him in a decade at least, and btw, this was at the funeral), or another ex-colleague (like the ex-wife, someone who didn’t know him except during his troubled years) who called him “difficult”–again, at the damn funeral–and on and on. WTF, who raised these people? How do you decide to say things that will only make the widow feel worse?
All right, just heart from Carla that she’s on her way back. Thanks yet again to everyone, even if I didn’t mention you… Mikkel, eschereal, Helena330, Count Blucher and everyone else… you guys are wonderful and I can’t get over what a fantastic community this can be, not to mention a resource for info. I will indeed keep you updated.
I have no real authority on this subject because the only death experience I’ve really had is my uncle dying of a heroin overdose when he was 30 (I was 25, we were quite close in age.) Death is a somewhat alien concept to me, and I am so very sorry you and your sister are enduring this level of pain. You are NOT failing her as a sister, on the contrary, your willingness to hurt for her and along with her is going to make a difference. I wouldn’t feel the need to hide your hurt from her either. By hurting with her, you are validating her pain. When my uncle died the hardest part was seeing his mother (my grandmother) suffer and be helpless to do anything about it. All I could do was just hurt with her. I don’t know if that’s the best approach but it seemed to work for us.
One of the big questions that plagued our family was whether it was accidental overdose or suicide as he had just been released from the hospital for a depressive episode and had fought with his sister that night before taking off and getting high. I never actually liked him that much, because he wasn’t a very considerate person, but I remember finding his journal while cleaning out his room, and it was full of this very self-hateful stuff, the level of self-loathing he had toward himself was nothing he ever showed to any of us. As someone who had gone through depressive episodes and suicidal ideation myself I immediately felt like if only I had known, I could have talked to him, could have prevented it. It’s nonsense of course. It’s human nature for us to do that to ourselves in the wake of grief, but it’s also a futile exercise that just piles guilt on top of misery and is not very helpful for moving forward.
What you’re saying in this bit I quoted seems to be the crux of it. I read your entire OP the other day and my immediate instinct was that it all seems like a (perhaps necessary) distraction from the reality that this person you loved and admired is gone. Knowing the details of his death can’t change any of that. I don’t think there is any real mystery about the kind of man he was, and details don’t take away from the quality of person he was or what he meant to your sister and to you.
I really wish I had the wisdom of experience to share on a deeper level, but please know you and your sister and in my thoughts, and we are always here to listen when you need to vent. You were right to step away for a bit to rest for yourself - you can’t be much of a support if you aren’t taking care of yourself. You are doing a wonderful job loving her and I hope your love will offer some measure of solace through this difficult time.
I’m a writer too! One recent google search was ''What’s the fastest way to kill someone with a knife?"
I have to wonder if occasionally the FBI comes knocking for weird google searches and then the person under suspicion says, ‘‘Well, I’m a writer,’’ and the FBI says, ''Oh, yeah, we get that a lot. Carry on."
2009 was both yesterday and a lifetime ago. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but I remember reading something and commenting to my husband that I couldn’t imagine what the person had gone through… and what she had gone through was something I had gone through, too. I just sometimes don’t associate my life with me!
As a person who leaned heavily on family to get me through those first months, thank you for being there for Carla. Do take time for yourself, too, though, and don’t think you can’t have limits and boundaries for your time. Yes, so much easier said than done.
I do think it’s natural to look for patterns previously unseen and wonder at the underlying causes…even if sometimes it’s just bad fucking luck that something happened the way that it did when it did… Our hearts want patterns.
I recently lost a high school friend of mine- he, too, was diabetic, though Type I and he had controlled his disease admirably for decades. Yet somehow his disease gained the upper hand one night and he slipped into a diabetic seizure. He was 43. I try to keep reminding myself of his good qualities, because he was human and had bad qualities too, and those keep rising to the surface. And part of me is angry at him for letting this happen. God knows he didn’t want it to, but I have had numerous friends ask me if it was suicide. It wasn’t. Sometimes bad shit happens at the worst possible time, and for no damn (discernible) reason.
Embrace and accept the grief. Work through it. Allow the brain to engage, but don’t let the heart fall by the wayside. Let yourself remember his faults, but never forget his virtues.
Aw hell, I’m drinking and feeling sad. I apologize for my rambling, sentimental thoughts.
Hi everyone. I thank you all once again for your help and words of comfort–sorry for this belated thanks to the last few folks to whom I didn’t reply.
Over the past few weeks my poor sister has had a couple of extremely unfortunate discoveries about Mike’s activities about 10 days before he died. Probably don’t need to get into that. The reason I’m posting is that now with the return of the toxicology report (the medical examiner called just this evening), the main part of the mystery has been solved.
The M.E. did confirm that it was cocaine use that caused v-fib and what she said was almost certainly very fast death. Hopefully that’s true and he wasn’t in any pain. Physical pain, anyway. We don’t know what pushed him off the wagon… or indeed when. She added that his heart had… uh, something that Carla doesn’t remember, possibly beginning with “mitra” or “myocardio-” (she obviously wasn’t paying close enough attention)… the point is, it’s evidence of damage from cocaine use. (Anyone know what it could be? Possibly something to do with the mitral valve?)
In any event, that’s not the end of the story–God forbid we should have some real closure. Another mystery to solve, because every fucking thing in this situation has to come with an added awful surprise. This cocaine revelation isn’t as straightforward as it sounds. Because the M.E. said that he had “a large number” of empty packets (presumably for cocaine) in his stomach.
When Carla asked “why would he have these? What does this mean?” the doc told Carla that it’s not uncommon for cocaine users to lick the packets and then swallow them to get all traces of the drug into their system. Which, okay, it makes some sense. But… in my subsequent Googling, I cannot find any reference to this practice on the part of individual drug users. The only references to swallowing cocaine packets are inevitably descriptions of mules/smuggling.
I just… I just can’t. What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. ON?! Did we just enter an episode of Narcos?
Of all the many things that make no sense in this surreal nightmare we entered six weeks ago, this is the non-sensiest. So now this sweet guy who worked from home and was a highly respected tech dude, and never took days off except for weekend trips with Carla to Boston or Washington (and always by car, not any public transport)… this guy was a mule? I don’t buy it.
So now, the latest question in this never-ending Lifetime movie saga is: does anyone know if what the M.E. said–about licking/swallowing packets–is actually a thing? Was it just that Mike had this really weird fucking habit of feeding his addiction? Or is the M.E. being kind and making up some story so Carla won’t know Mike was…somehow… part of some drug smuggling operation?
(What makes me doubt the latter is… surely she would have to pass this info on to the police, wouldn’t she? If she suspected something sinister like that? Wouldn’t cops want to search Mike/Carla’s apartment for more info if Mike was potentially involved in criminal activity like that?)
Needless to say, Carla was torn apart by the final report, even though she pretty much expected the death to have been drug-related. But now it’s back to another round of self-reproach for not having realized he was using again, and for thinking she didn’t make him happy enough, and… so on and so on.
I’m just so at a loss, and miserable for her. She’s lost at least 15lbs in the past 5 weeks and, while she’s been back at work for the past three weeks, is still a walking shadow of herself, not surprisingly. Meanwhile I’ve had a relapse of my panic attack symptoms (I’m having them every night now) and am, also not surprisingly, pretty damn depressed. Our whole family is stunned. Most of all, we just miss Mike terribly.
How can such a kind-hearted, loving, intelligent, endearing man have been so goddamned stupid?! I know that’s addiction for you, but God, I am both heartbroken for and angry at him for doing this to himself.
Well. So that’s the latest. I promised I’d fill you guys in on the details. I just had no idea this whole thing would be a ceaseless cycle of Russian nesting dolls, one after the other forever and ever amen.
Thanks for reading all this. I greatly appreciate your help so far.
P.S. forgot to mention: The M.E. said there was no sign of cancer, so at least that much is known.
Thanks for the update. I feel for you, this must really hurt.
IME, “cocaine packets” are typically folded pieces of something like a square of magazine paper. A drug mule would not be swallowing packets, because they would not be water-tight (or stomach-acid-tight, as it were). Cocaine is quite expensive, so a user would want to get all of it. It sounds like Mike handed out the Coke to partiers and was gleaning the leftovers after doing a line or two himself, or was trying to recapture the rush (cocaine lasts about half an hour, after which you really feel like shit and need more coke to relieve that). On the one hand, it almost sounds like he was being suicidal, but on the other hand, coke really makes one want to do more coke.
So, no, he was probably not being a mule in the sense that you mean. But he might have been making connections in those cities, or maybe he was just using all the while and not wanting to get caught with it.
Thank you, eschereal, very much. Now I’m very glad I happened to ask Carla if the M.E. told her what the packets were made out of, because as it turns out, the answer is “no.” Both of us had been assuming plastic/baggies (well, very little ones). But now that you mentioned paper, that led me to research and find more info about this practice, apparently called “parachuting” or snow bombing. I’d been using the term “packets” and that inevitably led me to the drug mule sites; going with “paper” helped me head in the right direction.
I had no idea this was a thing. I’m extremely daft and unknowledgeable when it comes to drugs–and my sister is even worse; she makes me look like Al Pacino in Scarface. But this helps make some sense of things. Even though it’s still senseless.
My poor brother-in-law. 
Thanks again, eschereal. Any more thoughts from anyone else will, of course, be greatly appreciated. In the meantime, stay tuned for a poll thread later on. These results now kinda require some decisions about whom, or whether, to share details with, and I’m curious to see what the teeming millions think.
Anecdotally, back in the day, I’d lick every bit of powder from my bindle, then eat it as a way of destroying the “evidence”.
Dear heavens, choie, I’m so very sorry that you and your sister are having to face these revelations. I can’t imagine just how tough it is and I pray that, with time, all this will fade away and everyone can go back to happy memories of Mike. God bless you for doing this legwork for her and making sense of such a tragedy. Hang in there. <3
As a recovering addict and as a physician who treats a LOT of addicts, all I can say is that addict behavior can be very inexplicable. But what you describe certainly falls well within the range of bizarre behaviors I’ve seen addicts indulge in, when they’re in the throes of their addictions.
So don’t make yourselves crazy trying to understand; the addict him/herself can’t really explain it, except to say that it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I hope you and your family find peace.