I, in my weird way am fascinated by death. Not like that. No ideation or anything.
I wonder about it. I was freaked out, maybe have PTSD still about my Daddy’s death. I really struggled with it. I got stuck in one of the grief steps and had to have professional help to move past it.
Today is my regular dialysis day. I go at 8am. Usually hooked up and underway by 8:30.
The 8am crowd all know each other. We greet and hear the latest news in the waiting area. Sorta of a family, I suppose.
This morning it was a extra long wait after the first few went in. We wondered why.
One lady who was very perky and more chatty this morning, telling of her daughters news of a new baby coming, and “oh, my they just adopted a new puppy”. She went on telling of the puppy’s antics.
Her and two others went back first.
She died 5 minutes after her dialysis started.
I thought she was just a temporary dialysis patient, til her kidneys healed properly.
Police came. Her family came. An ambulance came.
We were relocated to another area to start our treatment.
Ivy, my CNA knows the staff here. She got the scuttlebutt.
It seems it was suicide.
I felt so bad. I have no official notice. The suicide diagnosis could just be rumor.
It’s normal to be upset following a situation like that. It’s someone you had a tenuous connection with. These incidents can dredge up all kinds of grief, resolved and unresolved.
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
I’m struggling with the logistics of committing suicide in a public place, surrounded by medical professionals, while also hooked up to a dialysis machine.
I guess I never will. There’s no reason to expect an explanation. Not that I’m owed one. I’m sure there’s rules or legalities involved.
When I was leaving there were a couple of folks in the waiting area. People were actively crying and upset.
So I’m not alone.
There’s a difference when you read in the newspaper of a death and you say to yourself " that’s terrible". I saw this person 3 times a week for at least a year. We weren’t exactly chummy. But I knew her as a fellow sufferer. And someone I could relate to about her difficulties.
Still she wasn’t my family, really. I feel like she was.
I saw her more than I saw my siblings last year, by far.
I feel just awful. I can’t remember her last name.
You shouldn’t beat yourself up about that. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Mine is dates, when my wife and I did a big trip for instance. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just a strange memory hole.
I’m like that about names. The name-retention part of my alleged brain seems to be coated in Teflon.
As for the actual subject of the thread, I’m reminded of an event years ago at a call center job I had (I refer to that place as Hades Annex, to give you some idea), when we were surprised by paramedics rushing into the building and carting away one of the employees. I was later informed he’d evidently died very suddenly and was dead when removed from the building. I don’t think I’d ever interacted with him.
Oh, you mean “What’s his name, worked down the hall”. I’m the same way.
Working with a financial advisor, she said she also helped someone at our company that retired. “Oh, you mean Eric… ummm” Yeah was associated with him for over 20 years. Of course, I could tell you his last name now no problem.
Beck, you are a kind, loving, sensitive person, and this woman was part of your life for a year. She entertained you with her stories, and allowed everyone to forget about dialysis for a short while. It is right that you should grieve.
Just curious and don’t answer if you don’t want you. Do you see any similarity to her situation to yours? Could part of it be: That could have been me?
Of course.
We’re all here staving off death, for awhile.
Some might be on kidney transplant donation lists. That takes a bunch of time. And there are conditions. Not all of us can meet.
We’re knocking on heavens door.
I go in the morning and I’m dreading it. It will be more depressing than usual. Rumors will be flying. Usually there’s a card or donations bucket passed around. I don’t know what will happen.