Munson lovetere funeral home southbury ct
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2023.05.29 17:06 SchlesingerMindy323 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in CT Hiring Now!
2023.05.24 10:56 Rubadubtubgirl Dad died after falling in ICU and suffering TBI.
My dad is 55 and recently had surgery to fix an aortic aneurysm. He also had COPD. He was having a COPD flair up so he went to the hospital where his pulmonologist works and was admitted. They said he also had a mild heart attack but that he mostly just needed to receive breathing treatments and oxygen overnight to get the flair up under control. They put him on blood thinners, benzos, morphine, dilaudid and I think a few other things. My mom stayed with him overnight the first night but they moved him to ICU the following day and she couldn’t stay. They were using a BiPAP to get his breathing under control but my dad was very disoriented and high on all sorts of drugs and didn’t like wearing it. The nurse was getting irritated and told my mom they had to wait for my dad to “pass out” before they couldn’t intubate him because he wouldn’t keep the BiPAP on. 30 minutes after my mom left, the nurse called and said my dad fell but that he was ok. He said they were going to proceed with the ventilator and sedate him and that he would be taken off after 36 hours. After 36 hours passed, my mom was awoken by a phone call that my dad was having seizures and to hurry up to the hospital. The doctors asked my mom if my dad had fallen at some point because he had a subarachnoid hemorrhage that was due to blunt force trauma. She then said “yes! He fell here after I went home!” The doctor immediately yelled to another nurse to find out who was working the shift when my dad fell. Through CT scans they ruled out aneurysm or any other blockage. My dad was transported to a bigger hospital. The doctors at the new hospital also confirmed blunt force trauma from a suspected fall. My dad was in a vegetative state for days before he passed. Since his passing we have obtained his medical records that show that they ruled out blockages or aneurysm as the cause for the hemorrhage, but the coroner ruled the cause of death as cardiac arrest from subarachnoid hemorrhage and said it was “natural”. My mom refused to sign the death certificate and is now requesting an autopsy. I should also mention that the doctors at the big hospital said my dad has likely received brain damage from hypoxia during the seizures because they don’t know how long he was having them at the other hospital. The nurse never logged or reported my dads fall other than the phone call he made to my mother. They are trying to imply that my dad fell before coming to the ER even though there was no mention of a blow to the head or fall when he arrived. Do you think we have a case or can prove they lied about him falling while wearing a high fall risk bracelet? My mom has a voicemail from the time of fall but they didn’t mention it they just said to call back. She also immediately called me and told me so I was witness to the fact that he fell. He was intubated and sedated from Saturday until Monday morning before they did a CT of his brain and discovered the bleed. Please be kind in the comments because this just happened and we haven’t even held the funeral yet. I was extremely close to my dad and I just want justice. I love him very much and my whole family and community is devastated because my dad was an amazing and kind person. Thank you.
submitted by Rubadubtubgirl to MedicalMalpractice [link] [comments]
2023.05.17 16:30 SchlesingerMindy323 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in CT Hiring Now!
2023.05.17 04:10 ratboi213 Late review of my City Candles
 | So I’ve burned through all of my candles and here at my thoughts! submitted by ratboi213 to luxurycandles [link] [comments] I thought I put an order in for Paris but unfortunately didn’t :( Also, in my order they initially didn’t send my Seoul candle so I had to reach out to customer service. I’m having issues with my candles too because the wicks aren’t centered and the wax keeps drowning the wicks. Miami: I really enjoy it. The magnolia comes through strong. The citrus note balances out the magnolia and makes it a perfect spring or summer scent. New York: very cologne-y smell but in a good way. I wasn’t expecting much from this candles but it might be my favorite. The cologne smell mellows out as it burns and the scent becomes deep. Seoul: I saw someone comment that it’s a “feminine” version of Tokyo and I agree. It’s very clean. I get some incense and floral notes. Shanghai: this one is so weak. Not at all worth the price imo. The scent is pleasant but I can barely smell it in my room. It’s a fresh light floral. Peking: this one is fine to me. I smell sandalwood and magnolia. Don’t get any of the green tea. A little cypress-y Hong Kong: I HATE IT. I was expecting it to be my favorite but I can’t stand it. It’s obviously not “bad” but it’s giving me funeral home and cadaver scent. It’s sweet but not gourmand. I don’t like it at all. I bought 2 because I thought I would love it. I’m trying to get rid of the other, so if you’re interested send a message. It’s new and unopened. Tokyo: another one I thought I would love but ended up hating. It smells like fabulouso to me or like a cleaning product. I think I don’t like incense because I got CT Spiritus Sancti which is giving me cleaning product too. Tokyo isn’t as bad as HK but it’s not my thing at all. I also have a second one that’s unopened so lmk if you’re interested. Overall my experience was mixed because I feel like there were quality issues and they forgot one of my candles. I’d only repurchase New York and Miami. |
2023.05.16 08:26 Wimplo123 Survivors Guilt, but Not in the Usual Way
Authors Note: This story will contain feelings/talk about suicide and death. I am still currently serving in the USAF. I understand that compared to the other forces, much of what I talk about will seem pale in comparison because “Chair Force” but I feel it’s still valid. What follows is the feelings and thoughts at that time and current. I tried to condense as much as I could, but there is so much, that it was hard and some context may be missing. I am sorry.
So, send the pain below, much like suffocating…
Survivors Guilt base definition is, "A condition of persistent mental and emotional stress experienced by someone who has survived an incident in which others died." but has also been expanded to include not just wartime deaths, but death of family members or strangers that the survivor failed to save. I have felt this condition twice in my life and still currently fighting it today.
Send the pain below…
In six days it will mark three months since my wife died from cancer. Her death was due to the overzealous COVID policies and incompetent doctors (military and civilian) in AZ that made it hard for her to get seen until it was too late and it metastasized. This left her with a stage four diagnosis out of the gate with less than six months left to live unless the cancer responded well to chemotherapy, which due to her rare type of cancer, it wasn't very hopeful. She rarely complained, always smiled, and fought bravely to very end. I was her primary caregiver and I loathe to even take credit, but without my constant persistence in medically advocating and caring for her, she would have passed much sooner. I was able to spend almost a year and half of time with her because she was the strongest person I have ever met, tripling the time the doctors gave us. She beat COVID twice, two different colitis infections, eight rounds of one type of chemo, six rounds of another, thirty rounds of radiation, losing ninety percent of her stomach to a gastrectomy, and gallbladder removal. She ultimately died from being too weak to bounce back from getting Clostridioides Difficile (C-Diff) from lack of nutrition from her condition and getting over the flu. The flu she caught from me. I had to watch her die twice. Once watching her close her eyes and go brain dead, then for her to take her last breath the day after.
Flash back five years
Send the pain below…
Its late August of 2018 and I'm driving on this long stretch of highway that takes me to and from base. Forty minutes one way without traffic with nothing but desert and mountains on either side. This drive was different than other days. I had cross trained and got a new AFSC/MOS and was only at this base for two months and was still dealing with everything that followed from my last base/AFSC (Air Force Specialty Code) on top of many unresolved medical issues. I told my shop counterpart that I needed to take care of something and I was heading out for the day. Before this, I was attending Green Dot training, which was a program that the Air Force opted to use for a few years to help augment the older Suicide Awareness and Sexual Assault Prevention courses we are required to do annually. Right before the class started, I was still in an argument with Mi Amor (my nickname for my wife) that wasn’t finished the night before. I can’t even remember what it was about, but about ten minutes into the class, I made the decision that I couldn’t handle life anymore and that I wanted to die. So during this drive, the music was turned off, no A/C running, nothing but silence (or near silence as I have tinnitus from my time in Aircraft Maintenance), but plenty of time with my thoughts and how I wanted to go about killing myself. I first thought to go the traditional route of hanging myself, but decided against it as I didn’t have much clearance on my stairs to do it properly, as I might just hurt myself instead of dying. Plus didn’t want my wife and 6 month old to see that. I didn’t have any pills to overdose on, so I settled on buying a gun and shooting myself.
Send the pain below…
I get home and we finish out our argument and move on, but my choice to kill myself still was still there nagging at me. After fighting another migraine that night, barely any sleep, and just nothing left to give, I get up the next morning and head to work. My plan was to buy the gun after getting changed after work, but act like I was going to get takeout and head to the gun store, so I only had to endure the pain a little bit longer. That day when I parked my truck from getting off work, I was still wrestling with everything and what gun store to go to, I look over to my right and see my wife sitting on the stairs leading up to the front door with our daughter and suddenly and violently had clarity and silence. I knew right then and there, that I couldn’t go through with it, because the smiles on their faces would be forever marred if I went through with it and would leave our daughter fatherless.
Send the pain below…
I came clean to my wife about what I was feeling and she urged me to speak to someone, so I mentioned in text to my supervisor about how I didn’t know if I was coming home alive that day during some work talk, as it’s hard to reach out, especially since my supervisor was one of the main reasons that pushed me to suicide. While she did the right thing and got me in touch with the chaplain and our Lieutenant, her attitude, and the way she treated me changed from that day forward. She started treating me like absolute shit, more than she already was, while also taking away my NCO authority around the Airman. My migraines were every day now, the medicine I was on wasn’t helping and actually was making me forget things as a side effect, it fucks with your memory. This was a never ending cycle of her treating me worse because I was forgetting things (minor things really) and made me spiral hard toward suicide again. In one session where she was yelling at me for something, I broke down and told her that she “Makes me want to put a bullet in my brain everyday” and she said I can’t believe you “Want to put a bullet in your brain” totally skipping over the part where I named her as the reason. She would use this same tactic a few more times and no amount of asking leadership, they would not change me supervisors until she got moved to our other work building. The guy that replaced her wasn’t much better.
Send the pain below…
A month or so after this event my night terrors intensified greatly. Mi amor told me that I had some while I was in maintenance but for the remainder of time I spent at this base, I had a significant increase in the amount and intensity of them. I have only been awakened to these twice, as all the others I was in a semi-conscious state and never remembered having them, only knowing that I felt really shitty the next day. I sadly was constantly waking her up to them and she never complained about it. The last one was the most surreal experience, as I felt I had a divine revelation that it was my time to die. I woke up with the most grave sense of dread and sadness as the angel that came to me in my dream told me that it was my time to go and that they would let me say goodbye before taking me. So I spent what felt like an hour rubbing the back of my daughter while she slept and telling her how much I loved her and I how sorry I was to be leaving her. I in turn do this to my wife, until I decided to lay back down, while feeling oddly clear of any emotion and said, “I am ready, take me” and I went back to sleep. Some days I think I really did die and that I’m in Limbo awaiting further judgement, as life can’t be this shitty can it?
Send the pain below…
I spent three years at that shitty base before I was able to leave and get to my current assignment. She started having symptoms of something four months after getting here and was diagnosed with Signet Ring Cell Adenocarcinoma in November of 2021. Despite a CT scan showing a mass on the outside of her stomach and semi-lit up lymph nodes, the last doctor before she got real help, told her that she was “Too young to have cancer and that she has been pregnant, so what shes going through isn’t worse than that.” It took me yelling and using some choice words with our local clinic on base before someone with actual help came forward. He was a LTC and the flight commander. He immediately said she might have pancreatitis and called ahead to a hospital, a different civilian one than the one she went to, so she could get seen sooner. This event was two months after the previous hospital encounter, because I had no idea what to do to help her. Within four hours, we were told it was cancer, that somehow two civilian hospitals and one military PA missed the months prior. She was immediately rushed for a few minor surgeries and inpatient chemotherapy. After the first round she was released to me to bring her home and start outpatient chemo and care. We had no family around and at first was getting no help from my work center leadership, so I took as much leave as I could, so I could take care of her until something was figured out. I did everything I could for her.
Send the pain below…
I researched all her medicines to see what could mix, what couldn’t, if they couldn’t mix, could you still take them on the same day. What symptoms/side effects she was having and what could help. I created her pill schedule and feeding schedule. I tried my best to help when I came to foods, always cooking/trying different things to help as after the stomach surgery, she only had about ten percent of her stomach remaining. I gave her shots to prevent blood clots after her gastrectomy, I prepared her Parenteral Nutrition (PN) and set up her pump every day while she was on it. I assisted in de-accessing her chemo port when the PN came every two weeks. I was there for every appointment, for every bit of bad news, always cheering her on and telling her that it was going to be alright. All this while taking care of our four year old. I stopped all medical care for myself, as I couldn’t be away during the last bit as her care was so much.
Send the pain below…
My wife had two sets of last words. The last words she spoke while mentally clear and the last ones she said before she closed her eyes for the last time. The first set I didn’t hear as I blacked out for a bit and was told later by one of the nurses. It was simply “Sorry” to which I told her that she had nothing to be sorry about. The second set still haunts me, even as writing this up. She repeated “Ayuda Me” (Help me) about five times before laying back down and closing her eyes and went to sleep and her brain died some hours later. Sometime after she went to sleep, I told her that “I love you so much and that it is ok for you to go with the angels, I will be alright” and awaited the hospital catholic chaplain to read her Last Rites. After that I stayed with her for a bit before the pain of just waiting for her to die was too much. Much to her strength, it took another full day before she took her last breath. I was there holding her hand until she did and gave her a kiss on the forehead before having to deal with the hospital paperwork when someone dies. So once again I must send the pain below, because our now five year old still needs to be cared for, funeral arrangements etc. Her last wish to me was to find happiness when she was gone and I’m trying very hard to do so. She also wanted me to write down and share my stories from the military as she told me it would help me get through the suffering I’ve endured and all the good/funny times would be loved by others.
Will you remember me in the next life?, you did make a promise after all.
So here I am attempting to do so, because life must continue and our daughter still needs parenting, but I wish I died instead her. Sorry for the ramble. I am seeking help and have things under control and still would do anything for my Airmen. Ill borrow as saying from people much cooler than me:
These Things We Do, That Others May Live.
submitted by Wimplo123 to MilitaryStories [link] [comments]
So, send the pain below, much like suffocating…
Survivors Guilt base definition is, "A condition of persistent mental and emotional stress experienced by someone who has survived an incident in which others died." but has also been expanded to include not just wartime deaths, but death of family members or strangers that the survivor failed to save. I have felt this condition twice in my life and still currently fighting it today.
Send the pain below…
In six days it will mark three months since my wife died from cancer. Her death was due to the overzealous COVID policies and incompetent doctors (military and civilian) in AZ that made it hard for her to get seen until it was too late and it metastasized. This left her with a stage four diagnosis out of the gate with less than six months left to live unless the cancer responded well to chemotherapy, which due to her rare type of cancer, it wasn't very hopeful. She rarely complained, always smiled, and fought bravely to very end. I was her primary caregiver and I loathe to even take credit, but without my constant persistence in medically advocating and caring for her, she would have passed much sooner. I was able to spend almost a year and half of time with her because she was the strongest person I have ever met, tripling the time the doctors gave us. She beat COVID twice, two different colitis infections, eight rounds of one type of chemo, six rounds of another, thirty rounds of radiation, losing ninety percent of her stomach to a gastrectomy, and gallbladder removal. She ultimately died from being too weak to bounce back from getting Clostridioides Difficile (C-Diff) from lack of nutrition from her condition and getting over the flu. The flu she caught from me. I had to watch her die twice. Once watching her close her eyes and go brain dead, then for her to take her last breath the day after.
Flash back five years
Send the pain below…
Its late August of 2018 and I'm driving on this long stretch of highway that takes me to and from base. Forty minutes one way without traffic with nothing but desert and mountains on either side. This drive was different than other days. I had cross trained and got a new AFSC/MOS and was only at this base for two months and was still dealing with everything that followed from my last base/AFSC (Air Force Specialty Code) on top of many unresolved medical issues. I told my shop counterpart that I needed to take care of something and I was heading out for the day. Before this, I was attending Green Dot training, which was a program that the Air Force opted to use for a few years to help augment the older Suicide Awareness and Sexual Assault Prevention courses we are required to do annually. Right before the class started, I was still in an argument with Mi Amor (my nickname for my wife) that wasn’t finished the night before. I can’t even remember what it was about, but about ten minutes into the class, I made the decision that I couldn’t handle life anymore and that I wanted to die. So during this drive, the music was turned off, no A/C running, nothing but silence (or near silence as I have tinnitus from my time in Aircraft Maintenance), but plenty of time with my thoughts and how I wanted to go about killing myself. I first thought to go the traditional route of hanging myself, but decided against it as I didn’t have much clearance on my stairs to do it properly, as I might just hurt myself instead of dying. Plus didn’t want my wife and 6 month old to see that. I didn’t have any pills to overdose on, so I settled on buying a gun and shooting myself.
Send the pain below…
I get home and we finish out our argument and move on, but my choice to kill myself still was still there nagging at me. After fighting another migraine that night, barely any sleep, and just nothing left to give, I get up the next morning and head to work. My plan was to buy the gun after getting changed after work, but act like I was going to get takeout and head to the gun store, so I only had to endure the pain a little bit longer. That day when I parked my truck from getting off work, I was still wrestling with everything and what gun store to go to, I look over to my right and see my wife sitting on the stairs leading up to the front door with our daughter and suddenly and violently had clarity and silence. I knew right then and there, that I couldn’t go through with it, because the smiles on their faces would be forever marred if I went through with it and would leave our daughter fatherless.
Send the pain below…
I came clean to my wife about what I was feeling and she urged me to speak to someone, so I mentioned in text to my supervisor about how I didn’t know if I was coming home alive that day during some work talk, as it’s hard to reach out, especially since my supervisor was one of the main reasons that pushed me to suicide. While she did the right thing and got me in touch with the chaplain and our Lieutenant, her attitude, and the way she treated me changed from that day forward. She started treating me like absolute shit, more than she already was, while also taking away my NCO authority around the Airman. My migraines were every day now, the medicine I was on wasn’t helping and actually was making me forget things as a side effect, it fucks with your memory. This was a never ending cycle of her treating me worse because I was forgetting things (minor things really) and made me spiral hard toward suicide again. In one session where she was yelling at me for something, I broke down and told her that she “Makes me want to put a bullet in my brain everyday” and she said I can’t believe you “Want to put a bullet in your brain” totally skipping over the part where I named her as the reason. She would use this same tactic a few more times and no amount of asking leadership, they would not change me supervisors until she got moved to our other work building. The guy that replaced her wasn’t much better.
Send the pain below…
A month or so after this event my night terrors intensified greatly. Mi amor told me that I had some while I was in maintenance but for the remainder of time I spent at this base, I had a significant increase in the amount and intensity of them. I have only been awakened to these twice, as all the others I was in a semi-conscious state and never remembered having them, only knowing that I felt really shitty the next day. I sadly was constantly waking her up to them and she never complained about it. The last one was the most surreal experience, as I felt I had a divine revelation that it was my time to die. I woke up with the most grave sense of dread and sadness as the angel that came to me in my dream told me that it was my time to go and that they would let me say goodbye before taking me. So I spent what felt like an hour rubbing the back of my daughter while she slept and telling her how much I loved her and I how sorry I was to be leaving her. I in turn do this to my wife, until I decided to lay back down, while feeling oddly clear of any emotion and said, “I am ready, take me” and I went back to sleep. Some days I think I really did die and that I’m in Limbo awaiting further judgement, as life can’t be this shitty can it?
Send the pain below…
I spent three years at that shitty base before I was able to leave and get to my current assignment. She started having symptoms of something four months after getting here and was diagnosed with Signet Ring Cell Adenocarcinoma in November of 2021. Despite a CT scan showing a mass on the outside of her stomach and semi-lit up lymph nodes, the last doctor before she got real help, told her that she was “Too young to have cancer and that she has been pregnant, so what shes going through isn’t worse than that.” It took me yelling and using some choice words with our local clinic on base before someone with actual help came forward. He was a LTC and the flight commander. He immediately said she might have pancreatitis and called ahead to a hospital, a different civilian one than the one she went to, so she could get seen sooner. This event was two months after the previous hospital encounter, because I had no idea what to do to help her. Within four hours, we were told it was cancer, that somehow two civilian hospitals and one military PA missed the months prior. She was immediately rushed for a few minor surgeries and inpatient chemotherapy. After the first round she was released to me to bring her home and start outpatient chemo and care. We had no family around and at first was getting no help from my work center leadership, so I took as much leave as I could, so I could take care of her until something was figured out. I did everything I could for her.
Send the pain below…
I researched all her medicines to see what could mix, what couldn’t, if they couldn’t mix, could you still take them on the same day. What symptoms/side effects she was having and what could help. I created her pill schedule and feeding schedule. I tried my best to help when I came to foods, always cooking/trying different things to help as after the stomach surgery, she only had about ten percent of her stomach remaining. I gave her shots to prevent blood clots after her gastrectomy, I prepared her Parenteral Nutrition (PN) and set up her pump every day while she was on it. I assisted in de-accessing her chemo port when the PN came every two weeks. I was there for every appointment, for every bit of bad news, always cheering her on and telling her that it was going to be alright. All this while taking care of our four year old. I stopped all medical care for myself, as I couldn’t be away during the last bit as her care was so much.
Send the pain below…
My wife had two sets of last words. The last words she spoke while mentally clear and the last ones she said before she closed her eyes for the last time. The first set I didn’t hear as I blacked out for a bit and was told later by one of the nurses. It was simply “Sorry” to which I told her that she had nothing to be sorry about. The second set still haunts me, even as writing this up. She repeated “Ayuda Me” (Help me) about five times before laying back down and closing her eyes and went to sleep and her brain died some hours later. Sometime after she went to sleep, I told her that “I love you so much and that it is ok for you to go with the angels, I will be alright” and awaited the hospital catholic chaplain to read her Last Rites. After that I stayed with her for a bit before the pain of just waiting for her to die was too much. Much to her strength, it took another full day before she took her last breath. I was there holding her hand until she did and gave her a kiss on the forehead before having to deal with the hospital paperwork when someone dies. So once again I must send the pain below, because our now five year old still needs to be cared for, funeral arrangements etc. Her last wish to me was to find happiness when she was gone and I’m trying very hard to do so. She also wanted me to write down and share my stories from the military as she told me it would help me get through the suffering I’ve endured and all the good/funny times would be loved by others.
Will you remember me in the next life?, you did make a promise after all.
So here I am attempting to do so, because life must continue and our daughter still needs parenting, but I wish I died instead her. Sorry for the ramble. I am seeking help and have things under control and still would do anything for my Airmen. Ill borrow as saying from people much cooler than me:
These Things We Do, That Others May Live.
2023.05.09 20:15 Accomplished-Day6294 [HR]I couldn't let them go
It all began on Valentine's Day, when I could hear coming from our bedroom my wife's sobbing. From the early morning hours until midnight, the pain she must endure is excruciating. It happened when my wife and I met her cardiologist on our anniversary, where she was undergoing an MRI and later a CT. I was stuck in the main lobby, with only a long sleeve shirt, I was freezing my ass off.
I mean, why do they always put the ac so damn cold. if I should have known I would've bought my Jacket. It just made the tension bad. As the nurse called to me, to return to see my wife, the cardiologist looked a bit pale. as he was trying to wrap his mind around. The poor guy, his glasses literally fell off his face as he came to me. I mean, I know my wife is the one dealing with all of these conditions, yet seeing him was like seeing a guy who lost all of his money on a bet.
We met him at the examination room, and could see the man tremble, which made me so goddamn nervous. Like dude why are you shaking. when he explained to the both of us that she was diagnosed with a case of extreme cardiomyopathy with all of its four chambers that have succumbed to dilation, and that's not even the worst of it.
He continued on by explaining that she unfortunately has a thoracic aortic aneurysm, which was the size of a grapefruit, a gross pulmonary artery aneurysm and not to mention a rare fusiform aneurysm of her superior vena cava. But this was unexpected, and after seeing the CT scan on the monitor, I was just flabbergasted, and my wife was in shock. Watching her heart was literally massively by that means almost wall-to-wall, and globular. Now I was the one that began trembling.
Her lungs were pushed back; in fact, you don't even see them.I am devastated and angry with the news. I was about to lose the love of my life. We had little money, and with our son being just 4 months old, we had to prepare for the worst.
Back home, my wife was still sobbing in our bedroom, knowing that she would die at any moment and that she wasn't ready for it. I told her that everything would be okay. I mean, when I first met her, she wasn't such a looker, just an average woman with health problems. But I still loved her. And when we got married, it went downhill for her due to her sickness. I never knew she had heart problems.
I knew it was the end for her, but we were both in denial. However, my wife still loved me so much that we are still in love, and the same is true with our son. However, on that very night, I was awakened by the sound of a pulse coming from within our room. I never knew what it was—probably the AC vents or the AC itself. But I came to the realization that a sound was coming from her. It was my wife's heart that was literally beating just a few inches away from me. Day and night, I kept hearing her heartbeat, to the point that I was becoming paranoid. It was like a timer, ticking and ticking as I was praying to God that it doesn't stop.
But for her, I see how soundly she slept. When it's not easy for her to have a bad heart condition, there are days where she has a hard time breathing. And by using a CPAP machine that helps her breathe normally at night. Yet it is the chest pains that get her. I know she should not be taking way too much medication. But there are days when her headaches get bad, as she has no choice but to take ZzzQuil and Advil PM pills.
And now she is having back problems due to the enormity of her gigantomastia. With the size of her bosoms were becoming such a dangerous problem, she was having difficulty breathing. Sure, at first glance, the sheer weight of them was becoming an issue, first by having back problems and the like . But that was further from the truth; This happened after our son was born. I believe it was a month and a half ago that occurred, when we began to see them grow little by little, her life was worsening. Now she was just absolutely weak. With some days of her using a wheelchair.
Me, my family, and her family did our very best to keep her alive. While I was out working, my mother and hers sometimes had to babysit the boy and take care of my wife. and my older sister came with my mother, not just to take care of them. In fact, my older sister has a heart problem of her own. My sister was once obese. And her obesity became a hazard to her health. And just like my wife's, my sister's heart grew tremendously and caused a severe enlargement where so much fat also accumulated.
And since we have the same cardiologist, the man was wondering why he had to deal with us. But ever since she has gone on a diet, and especially once she has gone on liposuction, she has lost all that fat. Yet she still had that heart problem. Now my sister is slim due to all that dieting. My sister and my wife have been the best of friends.
They sometimes refer to themselves as heart sisters. It made me happy to see them smile. And my wife always wanted to have a sister of her own since she was an only child. But it was going downhill for the both of them. My father had to spend so many hours at work trying to save up his money before he retired. And just like me, he comes home late, extremely exhausted.
And sometimes stop by my house, since it is not too far from his job. My mom and my sister had to stay for the night at my place. Poor man; he's been working like a dog ever since he married my mother. I'm surprised that his heart was able to deal with all that pressure. But my dad's like a well-oiled machine. It doesn't matter how old you are; you still have that energy left in you. My father was used to it ever since he was an army mechanic in Vietnam.
And when my sister once had that severe health issue, He did his utmost to keep her healthy. I mean, my mother had to work before as well. Even though my mother's now retired, she was there to take care of my wife, my sister, and my son. Which was good for her since it'll be a good distraction. Sometimes taking them to the park or to a zoo will lighten up the mood.
And the biggest joy that my wife ever had was our son. Holding him in her arms brought the biggest comfort that she could ever have. Seeing his smile has given her warmth. He is her greatest creation, her greatest gift that she brought into the world. And she didn't let her own health condition get in the way of her loving our son. And she always feared that if she were to pass away, she would no longer see our boy. But she made a promise that she would always take care of him, no matter what, in this life or in the afterlife.
But when they had to return to their house to do some work. As they had some plumbing issues.It happened when I just had the most bad day of work that I came home angry. And top of the bills that kept pouring in, and the loan that I have to pay back. It was becoming too much. Sure having financial issues is bad, but this was getting ridiculous. My wife was trying to help me out. Stating that I should have my parents come over and assist me with my troubles. But one thing led to another, And there I accidentally snapped and cursed my own wife out. I unleashed a barrage of anger towards her, hearing the vile insults she couldn't take anymore. when I just said that she was the biggest mistake and that I did not love her anymore. My anger got the best of me. If everything that we have been dealing with. I just let it all out and that became my biggest regret.
Upon hearing those words, she fell to the ground and began to have spasms. I immediately called 911, I cursed myself for seeing my wife on the floor. With tears was running down my face as I prayed to God to help my wife. Hearing the sirens felt like a godsend. where the paramedics arrived; however, doing their very best, she was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital. The doctor said that she died of a broken heart, or Takotsubo syndrome, as they call it. On that night, I became a broken man. A man that lost the love of his life, a woman he cherished so deeply until my anger got the better of me. And I have to make it up for it. So I spoke to her doctor and to her cardiologist to see if there was somehow a way I could keep her heart intact. It was strange for them to hear this. Though, it wasn't new to them either.
I didn't want my wife's love to be thrown away like that. I mean, I was in mourning, and who could blame me? I loved her so much, and I blamed myself for giving her a heart attack. Love can make a man do crazy things, especially if the person he loves passes away. At least I could do is to keep her heart. As soon as the doctor saw me pouring my eyes out, they decided to do it anyway. When the pathologist presented my wife's enlarged heart to me with the aneurysms of its great dilated blood vessels on a large styrofoam box, I was completely dumbstruck by the sheer size of it.
But he too was extremely flabbergasted that she also had a grossly massive thoracoabdominal aorta and inferior vena cava that somehow was missed in the CT scan, where I can see it before me, and was surprised by the sheer weight of it when the pathologists and cardiologists weighed her heart as it surpassed over 700+ grams. I knew I had my reasons for keeping my wife's heart. My son was sleeping in his stroller, not knowing that he would never get to see his own mother.
When I arrived home with my wife's heart I began to cry uncontrollably, blaming myself for her death. I just hated myself for what I had done; I punched myself in the face multiple times and banged my head on the wall. Not knowing that my son was also crying in his stroller. Days and weeks passed by, and I had to grow accustomed to being a single dad. I had to support my own son, and I worked 16 hours for 4 days and an additional 12 hours for the fifth day. With my parents babysitting my son.
I sometimes have to sleep alone in my house, where my parents are taking care of him in their house. I almost gagged at its very sight. Seeing my wife's globular, enlarged heart with those dilated aneurysms of her great blood vessels in this large glass jar. What was I even thinking about having the pathologist remove the entire thing from her chest? But! I have to own up to my mistakes. And I didn't want to let go of it either. Seeing it right before me, the very organ that caused her so much pain and misery.
Yet, I became the one that struck her. My anger, my financial desperation that killed her. My sister didn't take the news lightly. But within a few days, she too died of a broken heart due to the loss of her friend. My parents were devastated. My father was on the ground, crying his eyes out, as throughout his entire life he had taken care of her. And I just kept on hearing him say that he failed as a father, and that should have been him.
But, as my mother was comforting my dad, it took a while for my father to get himself together. So I told him to watch over my son, as I had basically lied to him that I was about to use the restroom. when, in fact, I went to see the doctor and spoke to him in private. And so my parents took my kid and went back to the family vehicle.
Plus, my dad needed it, as seeing his grandson brought him comfort. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. But the cardiologist already knew what I was thinking. Looking at me with his eyes as if he wanted to punch me in the face. He just gave up and had the pathologist take out my sister's heart. But as they did so the next day, they weighed her heart, which was about 1106 g.
Which wasn't too surprising, though she wasn't diagnosed with cardiomegaly or cardiomyopathy. It was just since her obesity once caused it that way. And he said to me that, in the end, I would be responsible for this. I didn't tell my parents about it. And when we had a funeral for both my wife and my sister, I was the most paranoid man on the whole planet. I hoped that no one would suspect that I kept both of their hearts. I mean, who could blame me?
I was so attached to my wife and my sister. That even as a fully grown man, I didn't want to let go of them. I was a teenager all over again. But I had to get a hold of myself. And seeing my wife's parents and her side of the family there mourning the loss of their daughter. I was close with her parents. Since I worked with her father in my younger days. When I am still working at the lumber yard. Her father is a big dude. I mean, the man's the size of a refrigerator. And I hope he doesn't take notice of what I have done. Since I never told him that it was my angry outbursts that caused her death. One punch from him, and my head will go flying.
The next day, I returned to work, hoping to distract myself. Until I heard something throbbing that was repetitive, I wondered what it could be. I looked around to see if it was someone doing construction. Yet I saw nothing. I thought to myself that it was probably my veins pulsing in my ears. But I realized again that it wasn't. It was close, but not far. I felt pretty uncomfortable upon hearing it. Which was the weirdest thing, as I am using this saw to cut this wood. So I stopped what I was doing, got up, and left to use the restroom, and I heard that throbbing sound following me. I rushed inside the men's room, where some of the guys looked at me. It felt embarrassing to think that I was crazy or something.
I went to a nearby sink to wash my face. But I have to keep my cool. My hands were shaking a bit, and as I poured water into my face, I heard that throbbing again. I raised my head up, and in an instant I saw my wife's face in the mirror. I gasped upon seeing her. I backed off and accidentally misstepped as I fell to the floor. The guys in the restroom looked at me, as I was off my meds. I was sweating bullets. And I have never been this scared, to be honest. A million thoughts were going through my mind. And believing that I was going to be punished.
I went to a bar later that night, a perfect place for noise pollution. With loud country music blasting, people were yelling their lungs out, and to make it better for me, I found out that it was filled with bikers.
But! That was when I heard the throbbing. Was I getting a little crazy? However, that changed after I got hot, so I took off my jacket, laughing to myself as I heard that goddamn throbbing. Though these guys didn't give a shit about what I had done, some of them thought I was drunk. And there I saw my wife again. The throbbing suddenly increased in volume. I placed both my hands on my ears as I walked away from the spot. I was shaking in fear like a pig. Now I felt as if my heart was about to burst out of my chest, feeling it pounding right on my sternum. Carrying a tremendous burden on my shoulders, I felt like the titan Atlas, who held the world. But for me, it was my actions that caused this.
But when I arrived home, I felt uncomfortably scared. It felt like some evil was going to come after me, as I was still hearing that throbbing. It was making me crazy. There, I ran to my room, and what I saw shocked me. I saw my wife's and sister's hearts beating within two glass jars. Splashing the liquid preservative with each beat. Seeing those vena cavas pulsating, and that aorta and that pulmonary artery throbbing, I was screaming at them to stop. I was breathing erratically. As if I was trying to swim to the surface, catching some air in my lungs.
But their hearts kept pounding on the glass jar. I think that with each beat, I feel like those two will break it and jump at me with those veins. I placed my hands on the two jars, begging them to stop. When I began to hear footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart was in my throat, wondering who was in my house. I was sweating so profusely that my shirt was beginning to get soaked.
The sound of those footsteps stopped. I looked with wide eyes. I felt a chill run down my spine. But I suddenly felt dizzy as I wasted all my energy screaming at the organ. Until I collapsed to the floor.
The following morning, I woke up on my bedroom floor. My mouth was dry, and with this excruciating headache that came to me, I looked at the two hearts and saw that they were not animated. Was I just imagining it? I dunno. But I couldn't have this jar in my room. I must bury it with my wife and sister. It is the right thing to do. Like, my God, it felt like a real-life Tall Tale Heart. Probably it was all in my mind, and together with the overtime I have been doing at work and drinking at that bar, it has somewhat contributed. Then again, it felt so real that even thinking of it made my arms tremble.
But I have to get ready for work. And seeing myself in the mirror, I had to change clothes. I smelled like a bar. And the last thing I need is for my boss to think I was drinking on the job. Until I noticed that tomorrow would be the 13th of February. And Valentine's Day falls on that day. My wife's favorite holiday as I looked at her heart once more, believing it would suddenly beat. But to my surprise, it didn't. It was all in my head. I laughed nervously to myself. Shit, I am going to be late.
I came home around 7:00 p.m., took a shower, ate my food alone in my house, and called my mother to see how my son was doing. As I got ready for bed, I was immediately fast asleep by midnight when I suddenly felt something pulsating and vibrating coming from beside my bed, accompanied by a deep throbbing. It woke me up, as I was delirious and groggy, rubbing my eyes, trying to figure out where this sound was coming from. To my complete shock, it was their hearts that somehow reanimated themselves. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had the whole day to myself throughout the entirety of Valentine's Day. My wife's and sister's hearts continued to beat until way past midnight. I couldn't stand the sound of their throbbing. as if they were in jubilation over my fear and agony.
Was it punishment for me accidentally killing my wife? Yes, I understand that I was responsible for her death. My anger caused it. I mean, was it God who was doing this to me? I heard two disembodied voices coming from my bedroom. They sounded just like my wife and sister. There I saw two apparitions emerging out of the shadows. Believing that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Seeing their silhouettes, they inched closer to me.
I couldn't take it anymore, not wanting to see their spirits and those horrible organs. I fell off my bed without thinking straight until I ran away from them, ran down the stairs, and hauled my ass out the door. I kept on running, as I could still hear them in my head as the beating grew louder and louder. I kept on running as fast as I could until something hard hit me. There it stopped; it was all blank from then on. I heard various voices when I finally opened my eyes and saw that I was in a room—a hospital room, to be exact. My body was numb, with a synthetic cast on my left arm and both of my legs.
Yet I was covered by bandages, but I can move my hands and arms. My own doctor was there beside me with a nurse, and he explained that I ended up here due to being hit by a car. He said that it would take another week for me to return home . The driver had called 911, stating that I was screaming to myself and having a complete meltdown, so I ran in front of him. I was embarrassed by the notion of me running like a maniac. But, I didn't want to tell him what was the reason behind it.
And as he left, it was tranquil within the room, with only chatter coming from nurses and guests. I could barely move due to the injuries that I sustained in the accident. At least my phone is undamaged; trying to hold it is kind of difficult with this cast on my arm, but I have seen so many messages. but I didn't want to go through with them, I was just full of fatigue. And on the following day, I was ecstatic to see my own parents arrive with my son.
Even after seeing them, my father, who has this troubled expression on his face, elaborated that I had received a message from my boss stating that I could return to work once I completely healed up. But seeing my kid was the best thing that could ever happen to me.
However, to my surprise, my father had this huge duffel bag. Being stupefied at the sight of this. I mean, I could see my mother had already brought a bag of clothes. I mean, like, what's up with this?
He unzipped it and laid the two jars on the table beside me. My eyes widened as I became befuddled, glimpsing what was contained in these two large jars. Greeting me in silence were their hearts. Seeing his angry eyes as he was seething, he then asseverated that my love for them was undying.
Gazing at the disappointment on my mother's face, I froze in fear as I watched them leave my room with my son. Silence befell the room. Sweating in my bed, my father must've been furious to see those two jars. An hour went by as I heard a deep thud and a splash of liquid.
Their grotesque hearts began to beat, and with every throb, I watched these two jars vibrate. Pushing Laying in bed, I can see the two apparitions appearing before me; they are my wife and sister. There I can see her hollow black sockets where their eyes used to be, welcoming me with their unnerving beam.
I wanted to scream, but fear consumed me as I was bound to this bed. The two are clinging closer to me as I try to press the button, hoping that the nurse can come in. But no one came. And I am alone with them.
submitted by Accomplished-Day6294 to shortstories [link] [comments]
I mean, why do they always put the ac so damn cold. if I should have known I would've bought my Jacket. It just made the tension bad. As the nurse called to me, to return to see my wife, the cardiologist looked a bit pale. as he was trying to wrap his mind around. The poor guy, his glasses literally fell off his face as he came to me. I mean, I know my wife is the one dealing with all of these conditions, yet seeing him was like seeing a guy who lost all of his money on a bet.
We met him at the examination room, and could see the man tremble, which made me so goddamn nervous. Like dude why are you shaking. when he explained to the both of us that she was diagnosed with a case of extreme cardiomyopathy with all of its four chambers that have succumbed to dilation, and that's not even the worst of it.
He continued on by explaining that she unfortunately has a thoracic aortic aneurysm, which was the size of a grapefruit, a gross pulmonary artery aneurysm and not to mention a rare fusiform aneurysm of her superior vena cava. But this was unexpected, and after seeing the CT scan on the monitor, I was just flabbergasted, and my wife was in shock. Watching her heart was literally massively by that means almost wall-to-wall, and globular. Now I was the one that began trembling.
Her lungs were pushed back; in fact, you don't even see them.I am devastated and angry with the news. I was about to lose the love of my life. We had little money, and with our son being just 4 months old, we had to prepare for the worst.
Back home, my wife was still sobbing in our bedroom, knowing that she would die at any moment and that she wasn't ready for it. I told her that everything would be okay. I mean, when I first met her, she wasn't such a looker, just an average woman with health problems. But I still loved her. And when we got married, it went downhill for her due to her sickness. I never knew she had heart problems.
I knew it was the end for her, but we were both in denial. However, my wife still loved me so much that we are still in love, and the same is true with our son. However, on that very night, I was awakened by the sound of a pulse coming from within our room. I never knew what it was—probably the AC vents or the AC itself. But I came to the realization that a sound was coming from her. It was my wife's heart that was literally beating just a few inches away from me. Day and night, I kept hearing her heartbeat, to the point that I was becoming paranoid. It was like a timer, ticking and ticking as I was praying to God that it doesn't stop.
But for her, I see how soundly she slept. When it's not easy for her to have a bad heart condition, there are days where she has a hard time breathing. And by using a CPAP machine that helps her breathe normally at night. Yet it is the chest pains that get her. I know she should not be taking way too much medication. But there are days when her headaches get bad, as she has no choice but to take ZzzQuil and Advil PM pills.
And now she is having back problems due to the enormity of her gigantomastia. With the size of her bosoms were becoming such a dangerous problem, she was having difficulty breathing. Sure, at first glance, the sheer weight of them was becoming an issue, first by having back problems and the like . But that was further from the truth; This happened after our son was born. I believe it was a month and a half ago that occurred, when we began to see them grow little by little, her life was worsening. Now she was just absolutely weak. With some days of her using a wheelchair.
Me, my family, and her family did our very best to keep her alive. While I was out working, my mother and hers sometimes had to babysit the boy and take care of my wife. and my older sister came with my mother, not just to take care of them. In fact, my older sister has a heart problem of her own. My sister was once obese. And her obesity became a hazard to her health. And just like my wife's, my sister's heart grew tremendously and caused a severe enlargement where so much fat also accumulated.
And since we have the same cardiologist, the man was wondering why he had to deal with us. But ever since she has gone on a diet, and especially once she has gone on liposuction, she has lost all that fat. Yet she still had that heart problem. Now my sister is slim due to all that dieting. My sister and my wife have been the best of friends.
They sometimes refer to themselves as heart sisters. It made me happy to see them smile. And my wife always wanted to have a sister of her own since she was an only child. But it was going downhill for the both of them. My father had to spend so many hours at work trying to save up his money before he retired. And just like me, he comes home late, extremely exhausted.
And sometimes stop by my house, since it is not too far from his job. My mom and my sister had to stay for the night at my place. Poor man; he's been working like a dog ever since he married my mother. I'm surprised that his heart was able to deal with all that pressure. But my dad's like a well-oiled machine. It doesn't matter how old you are; you still have that energy left in you. My father was used to it ever since he was an army mechanic in Vietnam.
And when my sister once had that severe health issue, He did his utmost to keep her healthy. I mean, my mother had to work before as well. Even though my mother's now retired, she was there to take care of my wife, my sister, and my son. Which was good for her since it'll be a good distraction. Sometimes taking them to the park or to a zoo will lighten up the mood.
And the biggest joy that my wife ever had was our son. Holding him in her arms brought the biggest comfort that she could ever have. Seeing his smile has given her warmth. He is her greatest creation, her greatest gift that she brought into the world. And she didn't let her own health condition get in the way of her loving our son. And she always feared that if she were to pass away, she would no longer see our boy. But she made a promise that she would always take care of him, no matter what, in this life or in the afterlife.
But when they had to return to their house to do some work. As they had some plumbing issues.It happened when I just had the most bad day of work that I came home angry. And top of the bills that kept pouring in, and the loan that I have to pay back. It was becoming too much. Sure having financial issues is bad, but this was getting ridiculous. My wife was trying to help me out. Stating that I should have my parents come over and assist me with my troubles. But one thing led to another, And there I accidentally snapped and cursed my own wife out. I unleashed a barrage of anger towards her, hearing the vile insults she couldn't take anymore. when I just said that she was the biggest mistake and that I did not love her anymore. My anger got the best of me. If everything that we have been dealing with. I just let it all out and that became my biggest regret.
Upon hearing those words, she fell to the ground and began to have spasms. I immediately called 911, I cursed myself for seeing my wife on the floor. With tears was running down my face as I prayed to God to help my wife. Hearing the sirens felt like a godsend. where the paramedics arrived; however, doing their very best, she was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital. The doctor said that she died of a broken heart, or Takotsubo syndrome, as they call it. On that night, I became a broken man. A man that lost the love of his life, a woman he cherished so deeply until my anger got the better of me. And I have to make it up for it. So I spoke to her doctor and to her cardiologist to see if there was somehow a way I could keep her heart intact. It was strange for them to hear this. Though, it wasn't new to them either.
I didn't want my wife's love to be thrown away like that. I mean, I was in mourning, and who could blame me? I loved her so much, and I blamed myself for giving her a heart attack. Love can make a man do crazy things, especially if the person he loves passes away. At least I could do is to keep her heart. As soon as the doctor saw me pouring my eyes out, they decided to do it anyway. When the pathologist presented my wife's enlarged heart to me with the aneurysms of its great dilated blood vessels on a large styrofoam box, I was completely dumbstruck by the sheer size of it.
But he too was extremely flabbergasted that she also had a grossly massive thoracoabdominal aorta and inferior vena cava that somehow was missed in the CT scan, where I can see it before me, and was surprised by the sheer weight of it when the pathologists and cardiologists weighed her heart as it surpassed over 700+ grams. I knew I had my reasons for keeping my wife's heart. My son was sleeping in his stroller, not knowing that he would never get to see his own mother.
When I arrived home with my wife's heart I began to cry uncontrollably, blaming myself for her death. I just hated myself for what I had done; I punched myself in the face multiple times and banged my head on the wall. Not knowing that my son was also crying in his stroller. Days and weeks passed by, and I had to grow accustomed to being a single dad. I had to support my own son, and I worked 16 hours for 4 days and an additional 12 hours for the fifth day. With my parents babysitting my son.
I sometimes have to sleep alone in my house, where my parents are taking care of him in their house. I almost gagged at its very sight. Seeing my wife's globular, enlarged heart with those dilated aneurysms of her great blood vessels in this large glass jar. What was I even thinking about having the pathologist remove the entire thing from her chest? But! I have to own up to my mistakes. And I didn't want to let go of it either. Seeing it right before me, the very organ that caused her so much pain and misery.
Yet, I became the one that struck her. My anger, my financial desperation that killed her. My sister didn't take the news lightly. But within a few days, she too died of a broken heart due to the loss of her friend. My parents were devastated. My father was on the ground, crying his eyes out, as throughout his entire life he had taken care of her. And I just kept on hearing him say that he failed as a father, and that should have been him.
But, as my mother was comforting my dad, it took a while for my father to get himself together. So I told him to watch over my son, as I had basically lied to him that I was about to use the restroom. when, in fact, I went to see the doctor and spoke to him in private. And so my parents took my kid and went back to the family vehicle.
Plus, my dad needed it, as seeing his grandson brought him comfort. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. But the cardiologist already knew what I was thinking. Looking at me with his eyes as if he wanted to punch me in the face. He just gave up and had the pathologist take out my sister's heart. But as they did so the next day, they weighed her heart, which was about 1106 g.
Which wasn't too surprising, though she wasn't diagnosed with cardiomegaly or cardiomyopathy. It was just since her obesity once caused it that way. And he said to me that, in the end, I would be responsible for this. I didn't tell my parents about it. And when we had a funeral for both my wife and my sister, I was the most paranoid man on the whole planet. I hoped that no one would suspect that I kept both of their hearts. I mean, who could blame me?
I was so attached to my wife and my sister. That even as a fully grown man, I didn't want to let go of them. I was a teenager all over again. But I had to get a hold of myself. And seeing my wife's parents and her side of the family there mourning the loss of their daughter. I was close with her parents. Since I worked with her father in my younger days. When I am still working at the lumber yard. Her father is a big dude. I mean, the man's the size of a refrigerator. And I hope he doesn't take notice of what I have done. Since I never told him that it was my angry outbursts that caused her death. One punch from him, and my head will go flying.
The next day, I returned to work, hoping to distract myself. Until I heard something throbbing that was repetitive, I wondered what it could be. I looked around to see if it was someone doing construction. Yet I saw nothing. I thought to myself that it was probably my veins pulsing in my ears. But I realized again that it wasn't. It was close, but not far. I felt pretty uncomfortable upon hearing it. Which was the weirdest thing, as I am using this saw to cut this wood. So I stopped what I was doing, got up, and left to use the restroom, and I heard that throbbing sound following me. I rushed inside the men's room, where some of the guys looked at me. It felt embarrassing to think that I was crazy or something.
I went to a nearby sink to wash my face. But I have to keep my cool. My hands were shaking a bit, and as I poured water into my face, I heard that throbbing again. I raised my head up, and in an instant I saw my wife's face in the mirror. I gasped upon seeing her. I backed off and accidentally misstepped as I fell to the floor. The guys in the restroom looked at me, as I was off my meds. I was sweating bullets. And I have never been this scared, to be honest. A million thoughts were going through my mind. And believing that I was going to be punished.
I went to a bar later that night, a perfect place for noise pollution. With loud country music blasting, people were yelling their lungs out, and to make it better for me, I found out that it was filled with bikers.
But! That was when I heard the throbbing. Was I getting a little crazy? However, that changed after I got hot, so I took off my jacket, laughing to myself as I heard that goddamn throbbing. Though these guys didn't give a shit about what I had done, some of them thought I was drunk. And there I saw my wife again. The throbbing suddenly increased in volume. I placed both my hands on my ears as I walked away from the spot. I was shaking in fear like a pig. Now I felt as if my heart was about to burst out of my chest, feeling it pounding right on my sternum. Carrying a tremendous burden on my shoulders, I felt like the titan Atlas, who held the world. But for me, it was my actions that caused this.
But when I arrived home, I felt uncomfortably scared. It felt like some evil was going to come after me, as I was still hearing that throbbing. It was making me crazy. There, I ran to my room, and what I saw shocked me. I saw my wife's and sister's hearts beating within two glass jars. Splashing the liquid preservative with each beat. Seeing those vena cavas pulsating, and that aorta and that pulmonary artery throbbing, I was screaming at them to stop. I was breathing erratically. As if I was trying to swim to the surface, catching some air in my lungs.
But their hearts kept pounding on the glass jar. I think that with each beat, I feel like those two will break it and jump at me with those veins. I placed my hands on the two jars, begging them to stop. When I began to hear footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart was in my throat, wondering who was in my house. I was sweating so profusely that my shirt was beginning to get soaked.
The sound of those footsteps stopped. I looked with wide eyes. I felt a chill run down my spine. But I suddenly felt dizzy as I wasted all my energy screaming at the organ. Until I collapsed to the floor.
The following morning, I woke up on my bedroom floor. My mouth was dry, and with this excruciating headache that came to me, I looked at the two hearts and saw that they were not animated. Was I just imagining it? I dunno. But I couldn't have this jar in my room. I must bury it with my wife and sister. It is the right thing to do. Like, my God, it felt like a real-life Tall Tale Heart. Probably it was all in my mind, and together with the overtime I have been doing at work and drinking at that bar, it has somewhat contributed. Then again, it felt so real that even thinking of it made my arms tremble.
But I have to get ready for work. And seeing myself in the mirror, I had to change clothes. I smelled like a bar. And the last thing I need is for my boss to think I was drinking on the job. Until I noticed that tomorrow would be the 13th of February. And Valentine's Day falls on that day. My wife's favorite holiday as I looked at her heart once more, believing it would suddenly beat. But to my surprise, it didn't. It was all in my head. I laughed nervously to myself. Shit, I am going to be late.
I came home around 7:00 p.m., took a shower, ate my food alone in my house, and called my mother to see how my son was doing. As I got ready for bed, I was immediately fast asleep by midnight when I suddenly felt something pulsating and vibrating coming from beside my bed, accompanied by a deep throbbing. It woke me up, as I was delirious and groggy, rubbing my eyes, trying to figure out where this sound was coming from. To my complete shock, it was their hearts that somehow reanimated themselves. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had the whole day to myself throughout the entirety of Valentine's Day. My wife's and sister's hearts continued to beat until way past midnight. I couldn't stand the sound of their throbbing. as if they were in jubilation over my fear and agony.
Was it punishment for me accidentally killing my wife? Yes, I understand that I was responsible for her death. My anger caused it. I mean, was it God who was doing this to me? I heard two disembodied voices coming from my bedroom. They sounded just like my wife and sister. There I saw two apparitions emerging out of the shadows. Believing that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Seeing their silhouettes, they inched closer to me.
I couldn't take it anymore, not wanting to see their spirits and those horrible organs. I fell off my bed without thinking straight until I ran away from them, ran down the stairs, and hauled my ass out the door. I kept on running, as I could still hear them in my head as the beating grew louder and louder. I kept on running as fast as I could until something hard hit me. There it stopped; it was all blank from then on. I heard various voices when I finally opened my eyes and saw that I was in a room—a hospital room, to be exact. My body was numb, with a synthetic cast on my left arm and both of my legs.
Yet I was covered by bandages, but I can move my hands and arms. My own doctor was there beside me with a nurse, and he explained that I ended up here due to being hit by a car. He said that it would take another week for me to return home . The driver had called 911, stating that I was screaming to myself and having a complete meltdown, so I ran in front of him. I was embarrassed by the notion of me running like a maniac. But, I didn't want to tell him what was the reason behind it.
And as he left, it was tranquil within the room, with only chatter coming from nurses and guests. I could barely move due to the injuries that I sustained in the accident. At least my phone is undamaged; trying to hold it is kind of difficult with this cast on my arm, but I have seen so many messages. but I didn't want to go through with them, I was just full of fatigue. And on the following day, I was ecstatic to see my own parents arrive with my son.
Even after seeing them, my father, who has this troubled expression on his face, elaborated that I had received a message from my boss stating that I could return to work once I completely healed up. But seeing my kid was the best thing that could ever happen to me.
However, to my surprise, my father had this huge duffel bag. Being stupefied at the sight of this. I mean, I could see my mother had already brought a bag of clothes. I mean, like, what's up with this?
He unzipped it and laid the two jars on the table beside me. My eyes widened as I became befuddled, glimpsing what was contained in these two large jars. Greeting me in silence were their hearts. Seeing his angry eyes as he was seething, he then asseverated that my love for them was undying.
Gazing at the disappointment on my mother's face, I froze in fear as I watched them leave my room with my son. Silence befell the room. Sweating in my bed, my father must've been furious to see those two jars. An hour went by as I heard a deep thud and a splash of liquid.
Their grotesque hearts began to beat, and with every throb, I watched these two jars vibrate. Pushing Laying in bed, I can see the two apparitions appearing before me; they are my wife and sister. There I can see her hollow black sockets where their eyes used to be, welcoming me with their unnerving beam.
I wanted to scream, but fear consumed me as I was bound to this bed. The two are clinging closer to me as I try to press the button, hoping that the nurse can come in. But no one came. And I am alone with them.
2023.05.09 00:55 Accomplished-Day6294 I couldn't let them go
It all began on Valentine's Day, when I could hear coming from our bedroom my wife's sobbing. From the early morning hours until midnight, the pain she must endure is excruciating. It happened when my wife and I met her cardiologist on our anniversary, where she was undergoing an MRI and later a CT. I was stuck in the main lobby, with only a long sleeve shirt, I was freezing my ass off.
I mean, why do they always put the ac so damn cold. if I should have known I would've bought my Jacket. It just made the tension bad. As the nurse called to me, to return to see my wife, the cardiologist looked a bit pale. as he was trying to wrap his mind around. The poor guy, his glasses literally fell off his face as he came to me. I mean, I know my wife is the one dealing with all of these conditions, yet seeing him was like seeing a guy who lost all of his money on a bet.
We met him at the examination room, and could see the man tremble, which made me so goddamn nervous. Like dude why are you shaking. when he explained to the both of us that she was diagnosed with a case of extreme cardiomyopathy with all of its four chambers that have succumbed to dilation, and that's not even the worst of it.
He continued on by explaining that she unfortunately has a thoracic aortic aneurysm, which was the size of a grapefruit, a gross pulmonary artery aneurysm and not to mention a rare fusiform aneurysm of her superior vena cava. But this was unexpected, and after seeing the CT scan on the monitor, I was just flabbergasted, and my wife was in shock. Watching her heart was literally massively globular. Now I was the one that began trembling.
Her lungs were pushed back; in fact, you don't even see them.I am devastated and angry with the news. I was about to lose the love of my life. We had little money, and with our son being just 4 months old, we had to prepare for the worst.
Back home, my wife was still sobbing in our bedroom, knowing that she would die at any moment and that she wasn't ready for it. I told her that everything would be okay. I mean, when I first met her, she wasn't such a looker, just an average woman with health problems. But I still loved her. And when we got married, it went downhill for her due to her sickness. I never knew she had heart problems.
I knew it was the end for her, but we were both in denial. However, my wife still loved me so much that we are still in love, and the same is true with our son. However, on that very night, I was awakened by the sound of a pulse coming from within our room. I never knew what it was—probably the AC vents or the AC itself. But I came to the realization that a sound was coming from her. It was my wife's heart that was literally beating just a few inches away from me. Day and night, I kept hearing her heartbeat, to the point that I was becoming paranoid. It was like a timer, ticking and ticking as I was praying to God that it doesn't stop.
But for her, I see how soundly she slept. When it's not easy for her to have a bad heart condition, there are days where she has a hard time breathing. And by using a CPAP machine that helps her breathe normally at night. Yet it is the chest pains that get her. I know she should not be taking way too much medication. But there are days when her headaches get bad, as she has no choice but to take ZzzQuil and Advil PM pills.
And now she is having back problems due to the enormity of her gigantomastia. With the size of her bosoms were becoming such a dangerous problem, she was having difficulty breathing. Sure, at first glance, the sheer weight of them was becoming an issue, first by having back problems and the likeBut that was further from the truth; This happened after our son was born. I believe it was a month and a half ago that occurred, when we began to see them grow little by little, her life was worsening. Now she was just absolutely weak. With some days of her using a wheelchair.
Me, my family, and her family did our very best to keep her alive. While I was out working, my mother and hers sometimes had to babysit the boy and take care of my wife. and my older sister came with my mother, not just to take care of them. In fact, my older sister has a heart problem of her own. My sister was once obese. And her obesity became a hazard to her health. And just like my wife's, my sister's heart grew tremendously and caused a severe enlargement where so much fat also accumulated.
And since we have the same cardiologist, the man was wondering why he had to deal with us. But ever since she has gone on a diet, and especially once she has gone on liposuction, she has lost all that fat. Yet she still had that heart problem. Now my sister is slim due to all that dieting. My sister and my wife have been the best of friends.
They sometimes refer to themselves as heart sisters. It made me happy to see them smile. And my wife always wanted to have a sister of her own since she was an only child. But it was going downhill for the both of them. My father had to spend so many hours at work trying to save up his money before he retired. And just like me, he comes home late, extremely exhausted.
And sometimes stop by my house, since it is not too far from his job. My mom and my sister had to stay for the night at my place. Poor man; he's been working like a dog ever since he married my mother. I'm surprised that his heart was able to deal with all that pressure. But my dad's like a well-oiled machine. It doesn't matter how old you are; you still have that energy left in you. My father was used to it ever since he was an army mechanic in Vietnam.
And when my sister once had that severe health issue, He did his utmost to keep her healthy. I mean, my mother had to work before as well. Even though my mother's now retired, she was there to take care of my wife, my sister, and my son. Which was good for her since it'll be a good distraction. Sometimes taking them to the park or to a zoo will lighten up the mood.
And the biggest joy that my wife ever had was our son. Holding him in her arms brought the biggest comfort that she could ever have. Seeing his smile has given her warmth. He is her greatest creation, her greatest gift that she brought into the world. And she didn't let her own health condition get in the way of her loving our son. And she always feared that if she were to pass away, she would no longer see our boy. But she made a promise that she would always take care of him, no matter what, in this life or in the afterlife.
But when they had to return to their house to do some work. As they had some plumbing issues.It happened when I just had the most bad day of work that I came home angry. And top of the bills that kept pouring in, and the loan that I have to pay back. It was becoming too much. Sure having financial issues is bad, but this was getting ridiculous. My wife was trying to help me out. Stating that I should have my parents come over and assist me with my troubles. But one thing led to another, And there I accidentally snapped and cursed my own wife out. I unleashed a barrage of anger towards her, hearing the vile insults she couldn't take anymore. when I just said that she was the biggest mistake and that I did not love her anymore. My anger got the best of me. If everything that we have been dealing with. I just let it all out and that became my biggest regret.
Upon hearing those words, she fell to the ground and began to have spasms. I immediately called 911, I cursed myself for seeing my wife on the floor. With tears was running down my face as I prayed to God to help my wife. Hearing the sirens felt like a godsend. where the paramedics arrived; however, doing their very best, she was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital. The doctor said that she died of a broken heart, or Takotsubo syndrome, as they call it. On that night, I became a broken man. A man that lost the love of his life, a woman he cherished so deeply until my anger got the better of me. And I have to make it up for it. So I spoke to her doctor and to her cardiologist to see if there was somehow a way I could keep her heart intact. It was strange for them to hear this. Though, it wasn't new to them either.
I didn't want my wife's love to be thrown away like that. I mean, I was in mourning, and who could blame me? I loved her so much, and I blamed myself for giving her a heart attack. Love can make a man do crazy things, especially if the person he loves passes away. At least I could do is to keep her heart. As soon as the doctor saw me pouring my eyes out, they decided to do it anyway. When the pathologist presented my wife's enlarged heart to me with the aneurysms of its great dilated blood vessels on a large styrofoam box, I was completely dumbstruck by the sheer size of it.
But he too was extremely flabbergasted that she also had a grossly massive thoracoabdominal aorta and inferior vena cava that somehow was missed in the CT scan, where I can see it before me, and was surprised by the sheer weight of it when the pathologists and cardiologists weighed her heart as it surpassed over 700+ grams. I knew I had my reasons for keeping my wife's heart. My son was sleeping in his stroller, not knowing that he would never get to see his own mother.
When I arrived home with my wife's heart I began to cry uncontrollably, blaming myself for her death. I just hated myself for what I had done; I punched myself in the face multiple times and banged my head on the wall. Not knowing that my son was also crying in his stroller. Days and weeks passed by, and I had to grow accustomed to being a single dad. I had to support my own son, and I worked 16 hours for 4 days and an additional 12 hours for the fifth day. With my parents babysitting my son.
I sometimes have to sleep alone in my house, where my parents are taking care of him in their house. I almost gagged at its very sight. Seeing my wife's globular, enlarged heart with those dilated aneurysms of her great blood vessels in this large glass jar. What was I even thinking about having the pathologist remove the entire thing from her chest? But! I have to own up to my mistakes. And I didn't want to let go of it either. Seeing it right before me, the very organ that caused her so much pain and misery.
Yet, I became the one that struck her. My anger, my financial desperation that killed her. My sister didn't take the news lightly. But within a few days, she too died of a broken heart due to the loss of her friend. My parents were devastated. My father was on the ground, crying his eyes out, as throughout his entire life he had taken care of her. And I just kept on hearing him say that he failed as a father, and that should have been him.
But, as my mother was comforting my dad, it took a while for my father to get himself together. So I told him to watch over my son, as I had basically lied to him that I was about to use the restroom. when, in fact, I went to see the doctor and spoke to him in private. And so my parents took my kid and went back to the family vehicle.
Plus, my dad needed it, as seeing his grandson brought him comfort. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. But the cardiologist already knew what I was thinking. Looking at me with his eyes as if he wanted to punch me in the face. He just gave up and had the pathologist take out my sister's heart. But as they did so the next day, they weighed her heart, which was about 1106 g.
Which wasn't too surprising, though she wasn't diagnosed with cardiomegaly or cardiomyopathy. It was just since her obesity once caused it that way. And he said to me that, in the end, I would be responsible for this. I didn't tell my parents about it. And when we had a funeral for both my wife and my sister, I was the most paranoid man on the whole planet. I hoped that no one would suspect that I kept both of their hearts. I mean, who could blame me?
I was so attached to my wife and my sister. That even as a fully grown man, I didn't want to let go of them. I was a teenager all over again. But I had to get a hold of myself. And seeing my wife's parents and her side of the family there mourning the loss of their daughter. I was close with her parents. Since I worked with her father in my younger days. When I am still working at the lumber yard. Her father is a big dude. I mean, the man's the size of a refrigerator. And I hope he doesn't take notice of what I have done. Since I never told him that it was my angry outbursts that caused her death. One punch from him, and my head will go flying.
The next day, I returned to work, hoping to distract myself. Until I heard something throbbing that was repetitive, I wondered what it could be. I looked around to see if it was someone doing construction. Yet I saw nothing. I thought to myself that it was probably my veins pulsing in my ears. But I realized again that it wasn't. It was close, but not far. I felt pretty uncomfortable upon hearing it. Which was the weirdest thing, as I am using this saw to cut this wood. So I stopped what I was doing, got up, and left to use the restroom, and I heard that throbbing sound following me. I rushed inside the men's room, where some of the guys looked at me. It felt embarrassing to think that I was crazy or something.
I went to a nearby sink to wash my face. But I have to keep my cool. My hands were shaking a bit, and as I poured water into my face, I heard that throbbing again. I raised my head up, and in an instant I saw my wife's face in the mirror. I gasped upon seeing her. I backed off and accidentally misstepped as I fell to the floor. The guys in the restroom looked at me, as I was off my meds. I was sweating bullets. And I have never been this scared, to be honest. A million thoughts were going through my mind. And believing that I was going to be punished.
I went to a bar later that night, a perfect place for noise pollution. With loud country music blasting, people were yelling their lungs out, and to make it better for me, I found out that it was filled with bikers.
But! That was when I heard the throbbing. Was I getting a little crazy? However, that changed after I got hot, so I took off my jacket, laughing to myself as I heard that goddamn throbbing. Though these guys didn't give a shit about what I had done, some of them thought I was drunk. And there I saw my wife again. The throbbing suddenly increased in volume. I placed both my hands on my ears as I walked away from the spot. I was shaking in fear like a pig. Now I felt as if my heart was about to burst out of my chest, feeling it pounding right on my sternum. Carrying a tremendous burden on my shoulders, I felt like the titan Atlas, who held the world. But for me, it was my actions that caused this.
But when I arrived home, I felt uncomfortably scared. It felt like some evil was going to come after me, as I was still hearing that throbbing. It was making me crazy. There, I ran to my room, and what I saw shocked me. I saw my wife's and sister's hearts beating within two glass jars. Splashing the liquid preservative with each beat. Seeing those vena cavas pulsating, and that aorta and that pulmonary artery throbbing, I was screaming at them to stop. I was breathing erratically. As if I was trying to swim to the surface, catching some air in my lungs.
But their hearts kept pounding on the glass jar. I think that with each beat, I feel like those two will break it and jump at me with those veins. I placed my hands on the two jars, begging them to stop. When I began to hear footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart was in my throat, wondering who was in my house. I was sweating so profusely that my shirt was beginning to get soaked.
The sound of those footsteps stopped. I looked with wide eyes. I felt a chill run down my spine. But I suddenly felt dizzy as I wasted all my energy screaming at the organ. Until I collapsed to the floor.
The following morning, I woke up on my bedroom floor. My mouth was dry, and with this excruciating headache that came to me, I looked at the two hearts and saw that they were not animated. Was I just imagining it? I dunno. But I couldn't have this jar in my room. I must bury it with my wife and sister. It is the right thing to do. Like, my God, it felt like a real-life Tall Tale Heart. Probably it was all in my mind, and together with the overtime I have been doing at work and drinking at that bar, it has somewhat contributed. Then again, it felt so real that even thinking of it made my arms tremble.
But I have to get ready for work. And seeing myself in the mirror, I had to change clothes. I smelled like a bar. And the last thing I need is for my boss to think I was drinking on the job. Until I noticed that tomorrow would be the 13th of February. And Valentine's Day falls on that day. My wife's favorite holiday as I looked at her heart once more, believing it would suddenly beat. But to my surprise, it didn't. It was all in my head. I laughed nervously to myself. Shit, I am going to be late.
I came home around 7:00 p.m., took a shower, ate my food alone in my house, and called my mother to see how my son was doing. As I got ready for bed, I was immediately fast asleep by midnight when I suddenly felt something pulsating and vibrating coming from beside my bed, accompanied by a deep throbbing. It woke me up, as I was delirious and groggy, rubbing my eyes, trying to figure out where this sound was coming from. To my complete shock, it was their hearts that somehow reanimated themselves. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had the whole day to myself throughout the entirety of Valentine's Day. My wife's and sister's hearts continued to beat until way past midnight. I couldn't stand the sound of their throbbing. as if they were in jubilation over my fear and agony.
Was it punishment for me accidentally killing my wife? Yes, I understand that I was responsible for her death. My anger caused it. I mean, was it God who was doing this to me? I heard two disembodied voices coming from my bedroom. They sounded just like my wife and sister. There I saw two apparitions emerging out of the shadows. Believing that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Seeing their silhouettes, they inched closer to me.
I couldn't take it anymore, not wanting to see their spirits and those horrible organs. I fell off my bed without thinking straight until I ran away from them, ran down the stairs, and hauled my ass out the door. I kept on running, as I could still hear them in my head as the beating grew louder and louder. I kept on running as fast as I could until something hard hit me. There it stopped; it was all blank from then on. I heard various voices when I finally opened my eyes and saw that I was in a room—a hospital room, to be exact. My body was numb, with a synthetic cast on my left arm and both of my legs.
Yet I was covered by bandages, but I can move my hands and arms. My own doctor was there beside me with a nurse, and he explained that I ended up here due to being hit by a car. He said that it would take another week for me to return home . The driver had called 911, stating that I was screaming to myself and having a complete meltdown, so I ran in front of him. I was embarrassed by the notion of me running like a maniac. But, I didn't want to tell him what was the reason behind it.
And as he left, it was tranquil within the room, with only chatter coming from nurses and guests. I could barely move due to the injuries that I sustained in the accident. At least my phone is undamaged; trying to hold it is kind of difficult with this cast on my arm, but I have seen so many messages. but I didn't want to go through with them, I was just full of fatigue. And on the following day, I was ecstatic to see my own parents arrive with my son.
Even after seeing them, my father, who has this troubled expression on his face, elaborated that I had received a message from my boss stating that I could return to work once I completely healed up. But seeing my kid was the best thing that could ever happen to me.
However, to my surprise, my father had this huge duffel bag. Being stupefied at the sight of this. I mean, I could see my mother had already brought a bag of clothes. I mean, like, what's up with this?
He unzipped it and laid the two jars on the table beside me. My eyes widened as I became befuddled, glimpsing what was contained in these two large jars. Greeting me in silence were their hearts. Seeing his angry eyes as he was seething, he then asseverated that my love for them was undying.
Gazing at the disappointment on my mother's face, I froze in fear as I watched them leave my room with my son. Silence befell the room. Sweating in my bed, my father must've been furious to see those two jars. An hour went by as I heard a deep thud and a splash of liquid.
Their grotesque hearts began to beat, and with every throb, I watched these two jars vibrate. Pushing Laying in bed, I can see the two apparitions appearing before me; they are my wife and sister. There I can see her hollow black sockets where their eyes used to be, welcoming me with their unnerving beam.
I wanted to scream, but fear consumed me as I was bound to this bed. The two are clinging closer to me as I try to press the button, hoping that the nurse can come in. But no one came. And I am alone with them.
submitted by Accomplished-Day6294 to nosleep [link] [comments]
I mean, why do they always put the ac so damn cold. if I should have known I would've bought my Jacket. It just made the tension bad. As the nurse called to me, to return to see my wife, the cardiologist looked a bit pale. as he was trying to wrap his mind around. The poor guy, his glasses literally fell off his face as he came to me. I mean, I know my wife is the one dealing with all of these conditions, yet seeing him was like seeing a guy who lost all of his money on a bet.
We met him at the examination room, and could see the man tremble, which made me so goddamn nervous. Like dude why are you shaking. when he explained to the both of us that she was diagnosed with a case of extreme cardiomyopathy with all of its four chambers that have succumbed to dilation, and that's not even the worst of it.
He continued on by explaining that she unfortunately has a thoracic aortic aneurysm, which was the size of a grapefruit, a gross pulmonary artery aneurysm and not to mention a rare fusiform aneurysm of her superior vena cava. But this was unexpected, and after seeing the CT scan on the monitor, I was just flabbergasted, and my wife was in shock. Watching her heart was literally massively globular. Now I was the one that began trembling.
Her lungs were pushed back; in fact, you don't even see them.I am devastated and angry with the news. I was about to lose the love of my life. We had little money, and with our son being just 4 months old, we had to prepare for the worst.
Back home, my wife was still sobbing in our bedroom, knowing that she would die at any moment and that she wasn't ready for it. I told her that everything would be okay. I mean, when I first met her, she wasn't such a looker, just an average woman with health problems. But I still loved her. And when we got married, it went downhill for her due to her sickness. I never knew she had heart problems.
I knew it was the end for her, but we were both in denial. However, my wife still loved me so much that we are still in love, and the same is true with our son. However, on that very night, I was awakened by the sound of a pulse coming from within our room. I never knew what it was—probably the AC vents or the AC itself. But I came to the realization that a sound was coming from her. It was my wife's heart that was literally beating just a few inches away from me. Day and night, I kept hearing her heartbeat, to the point that I was becoming paranoid. It was like a timer, ticking and ticking as I was praying to God that it doesn't stop.
But for her, I see how soundly she slept. When it's not easy for her to have a bad heart condition, there are days where she has a hard time breathing. And by using a CPAP machine that helps her breathe normally at night. Yet it is the chest pains that get her. I know she should not be taking way too much medication. But there are days when her headaches get bad, as she has no choice but to take ZzzQuil and Advil PM pills.
And now she is having back problems due to the enormity of her gigantomastia. With the size of her bosoms were becoming such a dangerous problem, she was having difficulty breathing. Sure, at first glance, the sheer weight of them was becoming an issue, first by having back problems and the likeBut that was further from the truth; This happened after our son was born. I believe it was a month and a half ago that occurred, when we began to see them grow little by little, her life was worsening. Now she was just absolutely weak. With some days of her using a wheelchair.
Me, my family, and her family did our very best to keep her alive. While I was out working, my mother and hers sometimes had to babysit the boy and take care of my wife. and my older sister came with my mother, not just to take care of them. In fact, my older sister has a heart problem of her own. My sister was once obese. And her obesity became a hazard to her health. And just like my wife's, my sister's heart grew tremendously and caused a severe enlargement where so much fat also accumulated.
And since we have the same cardiologist, the man was wondering why he had to deal with us. But ever since she has gone on a diet, and especially once she has gone on liposuction, she has lost all that fat. Yet she still had that heart problem. Now my sister is slim due to all that dieting. My sister and my wife have been the best of friends.
They sometimes refer to themselves as heart sisters. It made me happy to see them smile. And my wife always wanted to have a sister of her own since she was an only child. But it was going downhill for the both of them. My father had to spend so many hours at work trying to save up his money before he retired. And just like me, he comes home late, extremely exhausted.
And sometimes stop by my house, since it is not too far from his job. My mom and my sister had to stay for the night at my place. Poor man; he's been working like a dog ever since he married my mother. I'm surprised that his heart was able to deal with all that pressure. But my dad's like a well-oiled machine. It doesn't matter how old you are; you still have that energy left in you. My father was used to it ever since he was an army mechanic in Vietnam.
And when my sister once had that severe health issue, He did his utmost to keep her healthy. I mean, my mother had to work before as well. Even though my mother's now retired, she was there to take care of my wife, my sister, and my son. Which was good for her since it'll be a good distraction. Sometimes taking them to the park or to a zoo will lighten up the mood.
And the biggest joy that my wife ever had was our son. Holding him in her arms brought the biggest comfort that she could ever have. Seeing his smile has given her warmth. He is her greatest creation, her greatest gift that she brought into the world. And she didn't let her own health condition get in the way of her loving our son. And she always feared that if she were to pass away, she would no longer see our boy. But she made a promise that she would always take care of him, no matter what, in this life or in the afterlife.
But when they had to return to their house to do some work. As they had some plumbing issues.It happened when I just had the most bad day of work that I came home angry. And top of the bills that kept pouring in, and the loan that I have to pay back. It was becoming too much. Sure having financial issues is bad, but this was getting ridiculous. My wife was trying to help me out. Stating that I should have my parents come over and assist me with my troubles. But one thing led to another, And there I accidentally snapped and cursed my own wife out. I unleashed a barrage of anger towards her, hearing the vile insults she couldn't take anymore. when I just said that she was the biggest mistake and that I did not love her anymore. My anger got the best of me. If everything that we have been dealing with. I just let it all out and that became my biggest regret.
Upon hearing those words, she fell to the ground and began to have spasms. I immediately called 911, I cursed myself for seeing my wife on the floor. With tears was running down my face as I prayed to God to help my wife. Hearing the sirens felt like a godsend. where the paramedics arrived; however, doing their very best, she was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital. The doctor said that she died of a broken heart, or Takotsubo syndrome, as they call it. On that night, I became a broken man. A man that lost the love of his life, a woman he cherished so deeply until my anger got the better of me. And I have to make it up for it. So I spoke to her doctor and to her cardiologist to see if there was somehow a way I could keep her heart intact. It was strange for them to hear this. Though, it wasn't new to them either.
I didn't want my wife's love to be thrown away like that. I mean, I was in mourning, and who could blame me? I loved her so much, and I blamed myself for giving her a heart attack. Love can make a man do crazy things, especially if the person he loves passes away. At least I could do is to keep her heart. As soon as the doctor saw me pouring my eyes out, they decided to do it anyway. When the pathologist presented my wife's enlarged heart to me with the aneurysms of its great dilated blood vessels on a large styrofoam box, I was completely dumbstruck by the sheer size of it.
But he too was extremely flabbergasted that she also had a grossly massive thoracoabdominal aorta and inferior vena cava that somehow was missed in the CT scan, where I can see it before me, and was surprised by the sheer weight of it when the pathologists and cardiologists weighed her heart as it surpassed over 700+ grams. I knew I had my reasons for keeping my wife's heart. My son was sleeping in his stroller, not knowing that he would never get to see his own mother.
When I arrived home with my wife's heart I began to cry uncontrollably, blaming myself for her death. I just hated myself for what I had done; I punched myself in the face multiple times and banged my head on the wall. Not knowing that my son was also crying in his stroller. Days and weeks passed by, and I had to grow accustomed to being a single dad. I had to support my own son, and I worked 16 hours for 4 days and an additional 12 hours for the fifth day. With my parents babysitting my son.
I sometimes have to sleep alone in my house, where my parents are taking care of him in their house. I almost gagged at its very sight. Seeing my wife's globular, enlarged heart with those dilated aneurysms of her great blood vessels in this large glass jar. What was I even thinking about having the pathologist remove the entire thing from her chest? But! I have to own up to my mistakes. And I didn't want to let go of it either. Seeing it right before me, the very organ that caused her so much pain and misery.
Yet, I became the one that struck her. My anger, my financial desperation that killed her. My sister didn't take the news lightly. But within a few days, she too died of a broken heart due to the loss of her friend. My parents were devastated. My father was on the ground, crying his eyes out, as throughout his entire life he had taken care of her. And I just kept on hearing him say that he failed as a father, and that should have been him.
But, as my mother was comforting my dad, it took a while for my father to get himself together. So I told him to watch over my son, as I had basically lied to him that I was about to use the restroom. when, in fact, I went to see the doctor and spoke to him in private. And so my parents took my kid and went back to the family vehicle.
Plus, my dad needed it, as seeing his grandson brought him comfort. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. But the cardiologist already knew what I was thinking. Looking at me with his eyes as if he wanted to punch me in the face. He just gave up and had the pathologist take out my sister's heart. But as they did so the next day, they weighed her heart, which was about 1106 g.
Which wasn't too surprising, though she wasn't diagnosed with cardiomegaly or cardiomyopathy. It was just since her obesity once caused it that way. And he said to me that, in the end, I would be responsible for this. I didn't tell my parents about it. And when we had a funeral for both my wife and my sister, I was the most paranoid man on the whole planet. I hoped that no one would suspect that I kept both of their hearts. I mean, who could blame me?
I was so attached to my wife and my sister. That even as a fully grown man, I didn't want to let go of them. I was a teenager all over again. But I had to get a hold of myself. And seeing my wife's parents and her side of the family there mourning the loss of their daughter. I was close with her parents. Since I worked with her father in my younger days. When I am still working at the lumber yard. Her father is a big dude. I mean, the man's the size of a refrigerator. And I hope he doesn't take notice of what I have done. Since I never told him that it was my angry outbursts that caused her death. One punch from him, and my head will go flying.
The next day, I returned to work, hoping to distract myself. Until I heard something throbbing that was repetitive, I wondered what it could be. I looked around to see if it was someone doing construction. Yet I saw nothing. I thought to myself that it was probably my veins pulsing in my ears. But I realized again that it wasn't. It was close, but not far. I felt pretty uncomfortable upon hearing it. Which was the weirdest thing, as I am using this saw to cut this wood. So I stopped what I was doing, got up, and left to use the restroom, and I heard that throbbing sound following me. I rushed inside the men's room, where some of the guys looked at me. It felt embarrassing to think that I was crazy or something.
I went to a nearby sink to wash my face. But I have to keep my cool. My hands were shaking a bit, and as I poured water into my face, I heard that throbbing again. I raised my head up, and in an instant I saw my wife's face in the mirror. I gasped upon seeing her. I backed off and accidentally misstepped as I fell to the floor. The guys in the restroom looked at me, as I was off my meds. I was sweating bullets. And I have never been this scared, to be honest. A million thoughts were going through my mind. And believing that I was going to be punished.
I went to a bar later that night, a perfect place for noise pollution. With loud country music blasting, people were yelling their lungs out, and to make it better for me, I found out that it was filled with bikers.
But! That was when I heard the throbbing. Was I getting a little crazy? However, that changed after I got hot, so I took off my jacket, laughing to myself as I heard that goddamn throbbing. Though these guys didn't give a shit about what I had done, some of them thought I was drunk. And there I saw my wife again. The throbbing suddenly increased in volume. I placed both my hands on my ears as I walked away from the spot. I was shaking in fear like a pig. Now I felt as if my heart was about to burst out of my chest, feeling it pounding right on my sternum. Carrying a tremendous burden on my shoulders, I felt like the titan Atlas, who held the world. But for me, it was my actions that caused this.
But when I arrived home, I felt uncomfortably scared. It felt like some evil was going to come after me, as I was still hearing that throbbing. It was making me crazy. There, I ran to my room, and what I saw shocked me. I saw my wife's and sister's hearts beating within two glass jars. Splashing the liquid preservative with each beat. Seeing those vena cavas pulsating, and that aorta and that pulmonary artery throbbing, I was screaming at them to stop. I was breathing erratically. As if I was trying to swim to the surface, catching some air in my lungs.
But their hearts kept pounding on the glass jar. I think that with each beat, I feel like those two will break it and jump at me with those veins. I placed my hands on the two jars, begging them to stop. When I began to hear footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart was in my throat, wondering who was in my house. I was sweating so profusely that my shirt was beginning to get soaked.
The sound of those footsteps stopped. I looked with wide eyes. I felt a chill run down my spine. But I suddenly felt dizzy as I wasted all my energy screaming at the organ. Until I collapsed to the floor.
The following morning, I woke up on my bedroom floor. My mouth was dry, and with this excruciating headache that came to me, I looked at the two hearts and saw that they were not animated. Was I just imagining it? I dunno. But I couldn't have this jar in my room. I must bury it with my wife and sister. It is the right thing to do. Like, my God, it felt like a real-life Tall Tale Heart. Probably it was all in my mind, and together with the overtime I have been doing at work and drinking at that bar, it has somewhat contributed. Then again, it felt so real that even thinking of it made my arms tremble.
But I have to get ready for work. And seeing myself in the mirror, I had to change clothes. I smelled like a bar. And the last thing I need is for my boss to think I was drinking on the job. Until I noticed that tomorrow would be the 13th of February. And Valentine's Day falls on that day. My wife's favorite holiday as I looked at her heart once more, believing it would suddenly beat. But to my surprise, it didn't. It was all in my head. I laughed nervously to myself. Shit, I am going to be late.
I came home around 7:00 p.m., took a shower, ate my food alone in my house, and called my mother to see how my son was doing. As I got ready for bed, I was immediately fast asleep by midnight when I suddenly felt something pulsating and vibrating coming from beside my bed, accompanied by a deep throbbing. It woke me up, as I was delirious and groggy, rubbing my eyes, trying to figure out where this sound was coming from. To my complete shock, it was their hearts that somehow reanimated themselves. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had the whole day to myself throughout the entirety of Valentine's Day. My wife's and sister's hearts continued to beat until way past midnight. I couldn't stand the sound of their throbbing. as if they were in jubilation over my fear and agony.
Was it punishment for me accidentally killing my wife? Yes, I understand that I was responsible for her death. My anger caused it. I mean, was it God who was doing this to me? I heard two disembodied voices coming from my bedroom. They sounded just like my wife and sister. There I saw two apparitions emerging out of the shadows. Believing that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Seeing their silhouettes, they inched closer to me.
I couldn't take it anymore, not wanting to see their spirits and those horrible organs. I fell off my bed without thinking straight until I ran away from them, ran down the stairs, and hauled my ass out the door. I kept on running, as I could still hear them in my head as the beating grew louder and louder. I kept on running as fast as I could until something hard hit me. There it stopped; it was all blank from then on. I heard various voices when I finally opened my eyes and saw that I was in a room—a hospital room, to be exact. My body was numb, with a synthetic cast on my left arm and both of my legs.
Yet I was covered by bandages, but I can move my hands and arms. My own doctor was there beside me with a nurse, and he explained that I ended up here due to being hit by a car. He said that it would take another week for me to return home . The driver had called 911, stating that I was screaming to myself and having a complete meltdown, so I ran in front of him. I was embarrassed by the notion of me running like a maniac. But, I didn't want to tell him what was the reason behind it.
And as he left, it was tranquil within the room, with only chatter coming from nurses and guests. I could barely move due to the injuries that I sustained in the accident. At least my phone is undamaged; trying to hold it is kind of difficult with this cast on my arm, but I have seen so many messages. but I didn't want to go through with them, I was just full of fatigue. And on the following day, I was ecstatic to see my own parents arrive with my son.
Even after seeing them, my father, who has this troubled expression on his face, elaborated that I had received a message from my boss stating that I could return to work once I completely healed up. But seeing my kid was the best thing that could ever happen to me.
However, to my surprise, my father had this huge duffel bag. Being stupefied at the sight of this. I mean, I could see my mother had already brought a bag of clothes. I mean, like, what's up with this?
He unzipped it and laid the two jars on the table beside me. My eyes widened as I became befuddled, glimpsing what was contained in these two large jars. Greeting me in silence were their hearts. Seeing his angry eyes as he was seething, he then asseverated that my love for them was undying.
Gazing at the disappointment on my mother's face, I froze in fear as I watched them leave my room with my son. Silence befell the room. Sweating in my bed, my father must've been furious to see those two jars. An hour went by as I heard a deep thud and a splash of liquid.
Their grotesque hearts began to beat, and with every throb, I watched these two jars vibrate. Pushing Laying in bed, I can see the two apparitions appearing before me; they are my wife and sister. There I can see her hollow black sockets where their eyes used to be, welcoming me with their unnerving beam.
I wanted to scream, but fear consumed me as I was bound to this bed. The two are clinging closer to me as I try to press the button, hoping that the nurse can come in. But no one came. And I am alone with them.
2023.05.04 23:16 InternetTraumatized New Martyr Archpriest Vasily Martysz (May 4)
(from oca.org)
The holy New Martyr Archpriest Vasily Martysz was born on February 20, 1874 in Tertyn, in the Hrubieszow region of southeastern Poland. His father Alexander was a judge in Molczyce near Pinsk. After his retirement, he was ordained a priest and became rector of a local parish.
Education
In 1884, at the age of ten, Vasily made a brief trip to New York with his father. His beautiful singing during a church service attracted the attention of Bishop Vladimir. The hierarch prophesied that young Vasily would become a priest, and promised that he would invite him to his diocese in America once he was ordained. After returning to his country, he remembered the bishop’s words, and decided to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a priest. He began his theological education at the seminary in Chelm, where the rector was Bishop Tikhon (Belavin), the future Patriarch of Moscow.
Immediately after graduating in July 1899, Vasily married Olga Nowik, and was ordained a deacon. On December 10, 1900 he was ordained a priest. That same month he left Breman for America. The young couple expected to be assigned to a parish in New York, but instead he was appointed to a parish in Alaska. Together with the newly-appointed Bishop Tikhon, he began his missionary service in the land of Saint Herman.
America
Orthodoxy had arrived in Alaska with the coming of the monastic mission from Valaam in 1794. At the start of the twentieth century, climatic and social conditions in this vast territory remained difficult. In his pastoral work, Father Vasily met Russian settlers and indigenous inhabitants of the region, Eskimos and Aleuts. He also encountered gold rush pioneers quite often.
Father Vasily’s first parish was extensive. He was headquartered on Afognak, but he was also responsible for the people on Spruce and Woody Islands near Kodiak. There were several small wooden chapels scattered on these islands. In 1901, as a result of his efforts, the church of the Nativity of the Most Holy Virgin was built at Afognak. Although the village was completely destroyed in the earthquake and tidal wave of 1964, the church building survives to this day.
Because of the long distances and severe climate, Father Vasily’s priestly work was extremely difficult and required many sacrifices. Often he would leave home for several weeks, in order to celebrate the services, to confess, baptize, marry the living, and to bury the dead, while traveling in a specially constructed kayak.
Even when he was at home, Father Vasily had very little time to devote to his dear family. Besides celebrating the services in church and serving the needs of his parishioners, he taught in the parish school and worked in two church homes for the poor. His family bore the arduous conditions, especially the climate, with difficulty. His wife Olga, who had given birth to two daughters, stayed home. The older daughter, Vera, was born at Afognak in 1902. Their second daughter was born two years later, after they had moved to Kodiak.
During his missionary service in Alaska, Father Vasily kept a diary. It has survived to this day as one of the few records of his personal life. Fragments have been translated from Russian and published in Polish.
Because of the severe Alaskan climate, which especially affected Matushka Olga, and out of concern for the education of their children, the Martysz family transferred to the continental United States in 1906. As a farewell statement from Alaska that year, Father Vasily wrote an article for the Russian Orthodox American Messenger, The Voice from Alaska, in which he appealed to Orthodox faithful across the USA to support the building of Orthodox churches in Alaska.
The family settled in Osceola Mills in central Pennsylvania. Their first son, Vasily, was born that same year, and their youngest child Helen was born in 1908, soon after they moved to Old Forge, PA. Father Vasily’s work took him to Waterbury, CT, to West Troy, NY, and finally to Canada. He was assigned to Edmonton and then to Vostok, where he became Dean of the provinces of Alberta and Manitoba. In 1910, he celebrated his tenth anniversary in the priesthood. His prolific and loving pastoral activity endeared him to his flock. Church authorities considered him a very effective, devoted and talented priest, while the faithful loved him sincerely, valuing his modesty and kindness.
Despite their comfortable lifestyle and the relatively large Orthodox community they served in western Canada, the couple longed for their homeland. They feared the loss of their ancestral identity and requested permission to return to Poland. After serving nearly twelve years in America, Father Martysz left the New World and returned to Europe in 1912.
Return
Initially, Father Vasily and his family lived with relatives in Sosnowiec, where he eventually became rector of the parish and instructor in Religious Education at the local girls’ high school. The peaceful life they enjoyed there lasted barely one year, since the outbreak of the First World War disrupted the lives of thousands. Clergy were considered civil servants who were ordered to evacuate their homes, and move to safety inside Russia. At this critical time, Bishop Vladimir, their Archpastor and friend from Alaska, offered the Martysz family refuge in a small apartment within the Saint Andronicus Monastery in Moscow. From here, Father Vasily commuted daily to the distant parish at Valdai, where he taught religious education classes. When the Bolsheviks seized power, he lost this job and was forced to earn a living unloading railroad cars. His own life was endangered because Red Army soldiers often treated clergy with distinct brutality.
In 1919, at the end of the war, Polish refugees were granted permission to return to their former residences. Father Vasily and his family took this opportunity to return to Sosnowiec. They moved back into their former apartment, which had survived the devastation of the war. They did not remain long, however, for that September Father Vasily was assigned to a position in the newly organized Polish Army, in charge of Orthodox Affairs in the Religious Ministry of the War Department. The whole family relocated to Warsaw. Father Vasily started the wearisome but important work of forming an Orthodox military chaplaincy. In 1921, he was promoted to the rank of colonel, and assumed responsibility as the head of the Orthodox military chaplaincy. At this time, the church elevated him to the rank of Archpriest. Father Vasily served as chief of Orthodox chaplains for the next twenty-five years. Within the Ministry of the Interior, he had his own cabinet, and was directly responsible to the Minister himself.
Autocephaly
Father Vasily was also a chief advisor and close colleague of Metropolitan George (Jaroszewski) of Warsaw and all Poland. He participated in preparing all the meetings of the Holy Synod, and assisted Metropolitan George in his effort to obtain autocephaly for the Polish Orthodox Church. He accompanied the Metropolitan on the tragic day of February 8, 1923, when he was assassinated. The assassin had also planned to kill Father Vasily as well, but he was captured before he could succeed. Father Vasily remained under police protection for some time, but attended to all the details of the Metropolitan’s funeral, in which the First Regiment of the Szwolezers Regiment participated under orders from Marshal Jozef Pilsudski.
Father Vasily zealously participated in the subsequent process of obtaining autocephaly for the Orthodox Church in Poland, which was granted during the tenure of Metropolitan Dionysius (Walednski) in 1925. Father Vasily became the Metropolitan’s closest advisor and confidant. He often accompanied the Metropolitan and acted as liaison with the Polish Head of State, Marshal Pilsudski. He was often invited to attend cabinet meetings at Belvedere, the Royal Castle, where he regularly signed the guest book on holidays.
In addition to his work as chief military chaplain, Father Vasily devoted much time to organizing pastoral ministry in the Ukrainian internment camps. In February 1921, Father Vasily appointed Father Peter Biton as chaplain for the camp in Aleksandrow Kujawski. He visited the Ukrainian internees himself and helped arrange camp churches. On July 8, 1921, he celebrated the Divine Liturgy in the Ukrainian language for over 5,000 prisoners, while visiting this camp. His sermon, delivered in Ukrainian, greatly improved their morale. He also assisted in organizing chaplains’ training courses in other Ukrainian army camps.
The Polish Secretary of the Army, Lucjan Zeligowski sent a congratulatory letter to Father Vasily on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of his ordination, December 7, 1925, stating “The virtues of this remarkably talented, conscientious and diligent servant, completely devoted to the Polish nation, expressed in his receiving a high distinction, the Order of Polonia Restituta, which is conferred upon him for his efforts in securing the Autocephaly of the Orthodox Church in Poland.”
Father Vasily retired from his government position in 1936. The couple decided to leave Warsaw and return to their home region, Hrubieszowszczna. They built two houses in Teratyn, one for themselves and another for their widowed mothers. They did not enjoy this peaceful life for very long, because in 1939 the German Army invaded Poland. The village gradually declined. Both of their mothers died. Matushka herself did not live to see the end of the war, but died in 1943. Then Father Vasily’s youngest daughter, Helen, moved into his house with her husband and daughter in order to support him.
Father Martysz spent the difficult war years in Teratyn. On May 4, 1945 (Great and Holy Friday), a few days before the surrender of Nazi Germany, his house was attacked. A female acquaintance warned him of the danger, but he replied, “I have done no harm to anyone and I will not run away from anyone. Christ did not run away.” Father Vasily did not fear and did not flee from his tormentors. He faced them bravely, in a Christ-like way, accepting the crown of martyrdom. The villains, seeking gold and money, had no respect for his uniform as a colonel in the Polish Army, nor for his priestly vestments.
Martyrdom
The bandits broke into the house by breaking a window. With callous cruelty they tortured Father Vasily though his only crime was that he was an Orthodox priest. They beat his pregnant daughter Helen, causing her to miscarry. They beat Father Vasily for four hours, reviving him by throwing water on him when he lost consciousness. Horribly tortured, he was finally murdered by a gun shot. The criminals threatened to shoot Helen as well, When she knelt before the icon of Christ and began to pray, the executioner’s aim and resolve weakened. They left, threatening to return and kill her as well.
On Great and Holy Saturday, Father John Lewczuk celebrated the burial rites for Father Vasily in Chelm. He was buried at the local cemetery in Teratyn.
In October 1963, the earthly remains of Father Vasily Martysz were brought to Warsaw and solemnly reinterred in the Orthodox cemetery in the Wola district, next to his wife and mother-in-law. At the beginning of 2003, his holy relics were uncovered and placed in the church of Saint John Climacus in Warsaw. The Holy Synod of the Autocephalous Orthodox Church of Poland promulgated the official Act of Canonization on March 20, 2003, and the rites glorifying Saint Vasily Martysz were celebrated in Chelm on June 7-8.
Orthodox Christians in the Polish Army have taken Saint Vasily Martysz as their heavenly patron. The martyrdom of Saint Vasily was the crowning accomplishment of his pious and dedicated life, a testimony to his amazing courage. He carried his cross to the end without complaint, accepting the crown of martyrdom as he had dedicated his life to Christ and the Holy Orthodox Faith.
—Jaroslaw Charkiewicz
submitted by InternetTraumatized to Christianity [link] [comments]
The holy New Martyr Archpriest Vasily Martysz was born on February 20, 1874 in Tertyn, in the Hrubieszow region of southeastern Poland. His father Alexander was a judge in Molczyce near Pinsk. After his retirement, he was ordained a priest and became rector of a local parish.
Education
In 1884, at the age of ten, Vasily made a brief trip to New York with his father. His beautiful singing during a church service attracted the attention of Bishop Vladimir. The hierarch prophesied that young Vasily would become a priest, and promised that he would invite him to his diocese in America once he was ordained. After returning to his country, he remembered the bishop’s words, and decided to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a priest. He began his theological education at the seminary in Chelm, where the rector was Bishop Tikhon (Belavin), the future Patriarch of Moscow.
Immediately after graduating in July 1899, Vasily married Olga Nowik, and was ordained a deacon. On December 10, 1900 he was ordained a priest. That same month he left Breman for America. The young couple expected to be assigned to a parish in New York, but instead he was appointed to a parish in Alaska. Together with the newly-appointed Bishop Tikhon, he began his missionary service in the land of Saint Herman.
America
Orthodoxy had arrived in Alaska with the coming of the monastic mission from Valaam in 1794. At the start of the twentieth century, climatic and social conditions in this vast territory remained difficult. In his pastoral work, Father Vasily met Russian settlers and indigenous inhabitants of the region, Eskimos and Aleuts. He also encountered gold rush pioneers quite often.
Father Vasily’s first parish was extensive. He was headquartered on Afognak, but he was also responsible for the people on Spruce and Woody Islands near Kodiak. There were several small wooden chapels scattered on these islands. In 1901, as a result of his efforts, the church of the Nativity of the Most Holy Virgin was built at Afognak. Although the village was completely destroyed in the earthquake and tidal wave of 1964, the church building survives to this day.
Because of the long distances and severe climate, Father Vasily’s priestly work was extremely difficult and required many sacrifices. Often he would leave home for several weeks, in order to celebrate the services, to confess, baptize, marry the living, and to bury the dead, while traveling in a specially constructed kayak.
Even when he was at home, Father Vasily had very little time to devote to his dear family. Besides celebrating the services in church and serving the needs of his parishioners, he taught in the parish school and worked in two church homes for the poor. His family bore the arduous conditions, especially the climate, with difficulty. His wife Olga, who had given birth to two daughters, stayed home. The older daughter, Vera, was born at Afognak in 1902. Their second daughter was born two years later, after they had moved to Kodiak.
During his missionary service in Alaska, Father Vasily kept a diary. It has survived to this day as one of the few records of his personal life. Fragments have been translated from Russian and published in Polish.
Because of the severe Alaskan climate, which especially affected Matushka Olga, and out of concern for the education of their children, the Martysz family transferred to the continental United States in 1906. As a farewell statement from Alaska that year, Father Vasily wrote an article for the Russian Orthodox American Messenger, The Voice from Alaska, in which he appealed to Orthodox faithful across the USA to support the building of Orthodox churches in Alaska.
The family settled in Osceola Mills in central Pennsylvania. Their first son, Vasily, was born that same year, and their youngest child Helen was born in 1908, soon after they moved to Old Forge, PA. Father Vasily’s work took him to Waterbury, CT, to West Troy, NY, and finally to Canada. He was assigned to Edmonton and then to Vostok, where he became Dean of the provinces of Alberta and Manitoba. In 1910, he celebrated his tenth anniversary in the priesthood. His prolific and loving pastoral activity endeared him to his flock. Church authorities considered him a very effective, devoted and talented priest, while the faithful loved him sincerely, valuing his modesty and kindness.
Despite their comfortable lifestyle and the relatively large Orthodox community they served in western Canada, the couple longed for their homeland. They feared the loss of their ancestral identity and requested permission to return to Poland. After serving nearly twelve years in America, Father Martysz left the New World and returned to Europe in 1912.
Return
Initially, Father Vasily and his family lived with relatives in Sosnowiec, where he eventually became rector of the parish and instructor in Religious Education at the local girls’ high school. The peaceful life they enjoyed there lasted barely one year, since the outbreak of the First World War disrupted the lives of thousands. Clergy were considered civil servants who were ordered to evacuate their homes, and move to safety inside Russia. At this critical time, Bishop Vladimir, their Archpastor and friend from Alaska, offered the Martysz family refuge in a small apartment within the Saint Andronicus Monastery in Moscow. From here, Father Vasily commuted daily to the distant parish at Valdai, where he taught religious education classes. When the Bolsheviks seized power, he lost this job and was forced to earn a living unloading railroad cars. His own life was endangered because Red Army soldiers often treated clergy with distinct brutality.
In 1919, at the end of the war, Polish refugees were granted permission to return to their former residences. Father Vasily and his family took this opportunity to return to Sosnowiec. They moved back into their former apartment, which had survived the devastation of the war. They did not remain long, however, for that September Father Vasily was assigned to a position in the newly organized Polish Army, in charge of Orthodox Affairs in the Religious Ministry of the War Department. The whole family relocated to Warsaw. Father Vasily started the wearisome but important work of forming an Orthodox military chaplaincy. In 1921, he was promoted to the rank of colonel, and assumed responsibility as the head of the Orthodox military chaplaincy. At this time, the church elevated him to the rank of Archpriest. Father Vasily served as chief of Orthodox chaplains for the next twenty-five years. Within the Ministry of the Interior, he had his own cabinet, and was directly responsible to the Minister himself.
Autocephaly
Father Vasily was also a chief advisor and close colleague of Metropolitan George (Jaroszewski) of Warsaw and all Poland. He participated in preparing all the meetings of the Holy Synod, and assisted Metropolitan George in his effort to obtain autocephaly for the Polish Orthodox Church. He accompanied the Metropolitan on the tragic day of February 8, 1923, when he was assassinated. The assassin had also planned to kill Father Vasily as well, but he was captured before he could succeed. Father Vasily remained under police protection for some time, but attended to all the details of the Metropolitan’s funeral, in which the First Regiment of the Szwolezers Regiment participated under orders from Marshal Jozef Pilsudski.
Father Vasily zealously participated in the subsequent process of obtaining autocephaly for the Orthodox Church in Poland, which was granted during the tenure of Metropolitan Dionysius (Walednski) in 1925. Father Vasily became the Metropolitan’s closest advisor and confidant. He often accompanied the Metropolitan and acted as liaison with the Polish Head of State, Marshal Pilsudski. He was often invited to attend cabinet meetings at Belvedere, the Royal Castle, where he regularly signed the guest book on holidays.
In addition to his work as chief military chaplain, Father Vasily devoted much time to organizing pastoral ministry in the Ukrainian internment camps. In February 1921, Father Vasily appointed Father Peter Biton as chaplain for the camp in Aleksandrow Kujawski. He visited the Ukrainian internees himself and helped arrange camp churches. On July 8, 1921, he celebrated the Divine Liturgy in the Ukrainian language for over 5,000 prisoners, while visiting this camp. His sermon, delivered in Ukrainian, greatly improved their morale. He also assisted in organizing chaplains’ training courses in other Ukrainian army camps.
The Polish Secretary of the Army, Lucjan Zeligowski sent a congratulatory letter to Father Vasily on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of his ordination, December 7, 1925, stating “The virtues of this remarkably talented, conscientious and diligent servant, completely devoted to the Polish nation, expressed in his receiving a high distinction, the Order of Polonia Restituta, which is conferred upon him for his efforts in securing the Autocephaly of the Orthodox Church in Poland.”
Father Vasily retired from his government position in 1936. The couple decided to leave Warsaw and return to their home region, Hrubieszowszczna. They built two houses in Teratyn, one for themselves and another for their widowed mothers. They did not enjoy this peaceful life for very long, because in 1939 the German Army invaded Poland. The village gradually declined. Both of their mothers died. Matushka herself did not live to see the end of the war, but died in 1943. Then Father Vasily’s youngest daughter, Helen, moved into his house with her husband and daughter in order to support him.
Father Martysz spent the difficult war years in Teratyn. On May 4, 1945 (Great and Holy Friday), a few days before the surrender of Nazi Germany, his house was attacked. A female acquaintance warned him of the danger, but he replied, “I have done no harm to anyone and I will not run away from anyone. Christ did not run away.” Father Vasily did not fear and did not flee from his tormentors. He faced them bravely, in a Christ-like way, accepting the crown of martyrdom. The villains, seeking gold and money, had no respect for his uniform as a colonel in the Polish Army, nor for his priestly vestments.
Martyrdom
The bandits broke into the house by breaking a window. With callous cruelty they tortured Father Vasily though his only crime was that he was an Orthodox priest. They beat his pregnant daughter Helen, causing her to miscarry. They beat Father Vasily for four hours, reviving him by throwing water on him when he lost consciousness. Horribly tortured, he was finally murdered by a gun shot. The criminals threatened to shoot Helen as well, When she knelt before the icon of Christ and began to pray, the executioner’s aim and resolve weakened. They left, threatening to return and kill her as well.
On Great and Holy Saturday, Father John Lewczuk celebrated the burial rites for Father Vasily in Chelm. He was buried at the local cemetery in Teratyn.
In October 1963, the earthly remains of Father Vasily Martysz were brought to Warsaw and solemnly reinterred in the Orthodox cemetery in the Wola district, next to his wife and mother-in-law. At the beginning of 2003, his holy relics were uncovered and placed in the church of Saint John Climacus in Warsaw. The Holy Synod of the Autocephalous Orthodox Church of Poland promulgated the official Act of Canonization on March 20, 2003, and the rites glorifying Saint Vasily Martysz were celebrated in Chelm on June 7-8.
Orthodox Christians in the Polish Army have taken Saint Vasily Martysz as their heavenly patron. The martyrdom of Saint Vasily was the crowning accomplishment of his pious and dedicated life, a testimony to his amazing courage. He carried his cross to the end without complaint, accepting the crown of martyrdom as he had dedicated his life to Christ and the Holy Orthodox Faith.
—Jaroslaw Charkiewicz
2023.05.03 09:15 BlockSuspicious947 A history of abuse, lies, manipulation, abandonment, and paranoia finds a modern dad(57) in a back alley with his new squeeze and tells him he has cancer so he never has to be held accountable for his actions.
Hey everyone, I(m32) guess I'm here mostly looking for a friendly ear and adivce.
It's hard to even know where to begin this post. I guess I'll start with my history with my father.
I didn't know him until I was five. He told my mom that he didn't want to be a part of my life. And at five, that changed for some reason. I started to see him every other weekend. And well, now I have scars from the abuse I suffered at his hands. I remember the first time he beat me more vividly than anything else in my life. I was about 10 and we had just finished redoing the den. It had fresh paint on the walls and new furniture. We were all relaxing in the den and watching Gladiator. All of the sudden he started yelling saying he saw me pick my nose and wipe it on the couch. I had done no such thing and I told him. What happened next was a blur of motion, I was six feet in the air, then falling to the ground and he alternated between picking me up and slamming me down and hitting me so hard that I bounced. I don't know how long it went on for, but it stopped when I just told him what he wanted to hear. For weeks he called me a liar and said that I deserved it. And every time he called me a liar, I believed it because I had lied just to get him to stop.
At about 13 he started trying to get me to move in with him. The beating hadn't stopped but he was so pervasive with trying to get me to do it that I gave in eventually. I just wanted him to be proud of me. That same year he slammed me against the wall so hard that I got a massive cut on my head. The beating stopped immediately as he tried to figure out what to do. He outright refused to take me to the hospital. Instead he got a bottle of new skin liquid stitch bullshit and globbed it into my hair. He sent me to school with a coagulated mix of blood and new skin stuck in my hair. The kids there picked on me for weeks and treated me like I was disgusting for it. Of course I couldn't tell them what it was. And I couldn't tell the teachers either when they pulled me aside in the halls. It's one of many scars that I still have from him.
Eventually, I did move in with him full time when I was seventeen. He used the weaknesses in my relationship with my mom to further divide us. The beatings had subsided at this point. Not due to anything other than his own back injury which left him 50% disabled and as I grew it took significantly more to hurt me, though I never fought back. But to give you an idea of the manipulation and paranoia that he had towards me, he took a trip to Canada in the middle of my school year. He set up game(hunting) cameras around the house to spy on me. And of course I found them and deleted the pictures except for maybe one or two of my middle finger. He was pretty absent at this point, he was on such heavy pain medication that it would be an absolute miracle if he even moved off the couch in the 16 hours between when I went to school and when I came home from work. And I was working a lot. By the time I graduated from high school I was putting in 70hr weeks at a minimum. I had already talked to the recruiter about joining and was trying to get a guaranteed job through them and was waiting for one to become available. I thought I had some time to relax while that was processing.
It was twenty two days between the day I graduated and the day he kicked me out. He had spent the whole week up in Canada with his girlfriend again. She was closer to my age than to his. He came home early and put all my stuff on the curb while I was at work. When I got back the first thing he did was take my phone and tell me to get out. He said that it was because I was unmotivated and because he didn't like my friends. The last thing he said to me is etched into my brain like acid, "Your a piece of shit and you'll never amount to anything."
I couldn't believe it. After all I had done to make him proud of me he just decided he was done with me. I worked for five years to move in with him and I changed my name for him. It was a moment guided by God that my friend on the next block over had given me a key to their place and asked me to walk their dog while they were gone just the day before. I carried my stuff in my arms to her house and collapsed on the couch and literally just sat there trying to figure out what I would do. At this point I had burned so many bridges with my mother for him that I didn't even know if she would take me. I called her the next day. Within a week I had a second job. I talked to the recruiter again and stepped up plans to join the military. And I became an aircraft maintainer just like him.
I served for 7 years. 6 years on active duty and 1 in the reserve stationed in Texas the entire time. And after that I moved to Colorado to pursue a career outside of the military. Over the years, Dad and I would talk. We never talked about the past, but we could talk.
Fast forward to the past six months. Dad met a new girl(f24). Yes, in the last six months. She is almost a decade younger than me and my sister. Dad told me in December that he had a new girlfriend. He told me in January that he was getting married. I had been talking with my sister(f34) and she said that they were trying for a kid.
And just like that the memories starting flashing back to me of what it was like to be his son. And I've done a lot of growing in my years. I know how to take accountability of my actions. And I pride myself on doing the right thing no matter how hard it is. And so I knew I had to have a discussion with him about it, especially because it was hard. I felt it in my heart. Because no kid deserves to grow up the way I did. I lived in constant fear that his temper would turn towards me in a moments notice. I didn't want another kid to grow up in the same environment of toxic paranoia and suspicion. So when he asked me in February if I would be his best man, I changed the subject. And I told him, "Look dad, I've forgiven you for a lot of things over the years. But if another kid has to live through that, then I'll never forgive you."
I was only about 3 hours away at the time, staying at a house provided by my company and had been hoping that he would come down and see us. But he made it abundantly clear in the weeks leading up to it that he wouldn't be there. I even invited my sister. She was staying with us when I had this conversation with him. The very next day after that conversation, she got a call from dad and he told her that they did a CT Scan and found tumors. They wouldn't know anything until the biopsy came back, but it didn't look good. He told her not to tell me. And God bless my sister, she took one look at me and fell to tears and told me everything immediately.
At this point, I figured he needed a few days to collect his thoughts and to process so I didn't try to rush things. I was anxious all week, waiting for the call to come from him. Waiting for him to have the balls to tell me. The call never came. So before my trip was over and I had to return home I called him. Multiple times I called him, but I was ignored. I still figured everything was fine and that he would come around. So I flew home. And I texted him when I got back. Trying to get him to reach out to me. I kept in close contact with my sister because she was my only eyes at the time. And she was also trying to get dad to call me. And every time I talked to her she told me about how great his new girlfriend was and how wonderfully supportive of him he was. To the point where it was getting annoying and I had to tell her, "Look you've convinced me to give her a chance can we please just leave it at that."
During this time the biopsy came back and he found out officially that he has Stage 4 pancreatic cancer that has metastasized in his stomach, bones, and liver. My sister updated me, she didn't have that full diagnostic but knew he had cancer.
By the end of that week, I hadn't heard from my sister, but the situation was already so hard to deal with that I wasn't upset about it. Well, unbeknownst to me. My sister had been talking to dads new girlfriend over text that Friday. His girlfriend had threatened to cut my sister and her son out of dads life if she didn't stop asking him to call me.
Now dad has done a lot of things wrong, but one of the things that he did right is he taught my sister and I to stand up for each other and to always have each others backs. He taught us that you don't fuck with family. He endowed us with that responsibility. And my sister has always taken it to the next level, she doesn't take it as a responsibility she takes it as her duty. And as she's grown she's expanded that to include not only me and her, but her son and my dad. So when she received those messages, she went over to their house to have a conversation with dads girlfriend the following Monday with her son. It culminated in dads girlfriend clocking my sister.
This is still February by the way. In case you forgot. I found out 2 days later. My sister basically told one of my aunts that if she heard anything about it to call her and get her side. And my aunt, immediately called her and demanded to know what happened. She talked to one of my other aunts super quickly and immediately called me. It was a wake up call. This whole time I had expected my dad to do the right thing and call me. And that call reminded me of just how crazy he was. I didn't know what I could do about it. I highly doubted that dad wanted to see me if he can't even be bothered to answer my calls. But the next day I broke out my secret weapon I had been saving, just in case. *67. I finally got through. He finally answered. And he was jovial when he did. I didn't even know what to say, but I tried. The call lasted 1 minute and 24 seconds before he said it was a bad time, that he'd call me later, and hung up. Later that night I texted him to see if he was still going to call. Moments later he sent a group text to my sister and I both. The long and short of it is that he lashed out. He said we never really loved him, that he didn't want us around, and that he didn't want us at his funeral let alone in his life. And of course, I poured my heart into a 1000 word text message to him to get him to see my side. Its a message he never got, he had already blocked my number. There were so many messages that he didn't get.
I flew out there the following Monday night. It was just about the beginning of March. The aunt my sister called, Aunt T we'll call her, came all the way up from NC just to make sure that I didn't have to go alone. My aunt that lives in town (Aunt Q) isn't on speaking terms with him because he sent her and her husband nude photos of his girlfriend. But she let me stay with her in a spare bedroom. Aunt T went with me the next day to shovel the driveway at dads house. I texted dad that I was on the way a couple hours in advance. I couldn't be certain, but I highly suspected that I was blocked. I figured it would be a good way to start repairing our relationship. I was so nervous walking up to his house I was sure he wasn't even going to say a word, just start swinging immediately. And from the look on his face, it seemed like what he wanted to do. But he wouldn't dare with Aunt T there. That night he sent the most BS thank you I've ever even seen. Thanks but no thanks would've been less bullshit. But again I responded with a heart felt message. It snowed again later that week and I did the same thing. I texted ahead to let him know that I was coming, plenty of time for him to respond. Then I showed up shovel in hand to find that everything had been taken care of already. But dad was on the back porch smoking a cigarette, so I walked up and asked him for one. He seemed in a much better mood. He mentioned that it would be nice to know when I was coming so he could plan accordingly and I said that I texted him. Immediately, he said I didn't have my phone on me so I didn't see it. This time while I was over he emailed me some of the cancer documentation in case I needed it for work. Great, I had an alternate contact method.
One of the things that he had mentioned was that he was starting chemo on Monday and needed to isolate after starting. And when I went home, it tugged at my heart that my sister wouldn't get to see him before he started chemo. So I texted him that I wanted us to get together me, my sister, her son, and him. This time I also forwarded it to his email that I was coming by at a specific time to do this. Of course he was busy when we all showed up. We burned hours worth of time, but eventually the four of us went to Denny's.
That was the beginning of repairing our relationship. Most of the crazy has fallen off a bit since then. He did try to say that I was only here for the money or inheritance or whatever. But since he unblocked me while we were at Denny's I knew he would get a response from me. So I sent him every text that I had sent him the time since he had blocked me and addressed all of the bullshit point by point. And dad makes excuses for what his girlfriend did. He says she fights for him. He says that she was looking out for him. Which is just such bullshit. Because that is what my sister did and he has outright said that he is disappointed in her. Why is it right when his girlfriend does it but not my sister? And even though I've tried to repair our relationship with dad. My sister is taking this so hard. He takes literally zero accountability for his actions, for lashing out at us, for anything. I've extended a hundred olive branches in his direction, even went to his wedding, and for what? So that she can keep hurting? I want so desperately to talk to him about her and try to get him to see her side of this.
To sum up my sisters side of this primarily because this is what I would want to say to him:
I don't know what to do about any of this. I've been living at Aunt Q's house for over two months now and I finally planned a trip back home. I went to the wedding as I mentioned and while it was awkward. The interactions I had with dad were not bad and neither were the interactions I had with the part of the family which attended. Most of them weren't invited. My sister included. In fact, I wasn't invited. I had to explicitly ask if dad wanted me to go. A question that he dodged in favor of asking his girlfriend. I do feel like dad is starting to round a corner in dealing with his feelings surrounding his diagnosis. Which for the uninitiated is essentially 6 months to a year and a half.
I came up here to repair my relationship with him and I think I've been successful because I let the bullshit fall to the side pretty easily. I grew up with him and my sister didn't. I just know that he will never accept fault, take blame, or accountability. Even when he lies to my face I don't call him on it. It hurts to hold that inside, but he is my dad and is dying. If he were going to change it would've happened by now.
So I'm posting here primarily to find a friendly ear, and maybe some advice. I told you all that I came up here to repair our relationship. And I'm doing it because it is the right thing to do and I pride myself on doing the right thing no matter how hard it is. There isn't a thing that this man can throw at me that I can't handle. My sister on the other hand. She is hurting so much. If my sister decides she is done and walks away, then I need to be prepared to do so to. She and her son need someone on their side.
submitted by BlockSuspicious947 to DadForAMinute [link] [comments]
It's hard to even know where to begin this post. I guess I'll start with my history with my father.
I didn't know him until I was five. He told my mom that he didn't want to be a part of my life. And at five, that changed for some reason. I started to see him every other weekend. And well, now I have scars from the abuse I suffered at his hands. I remember the first time he beat me more vividly than anything else in my life. I was about 10 and we had just finished redoing the den. It had fresh paint on the walls and new furniture. We were all relaxing in the den and watching Gladiator. All of the sudden he started yelling saying he saw me pick my nose and wipe it on the couch. I had done no such thing and I told him. What happened next was a blur of motion, I was six feet in the air, then falling to the ground and he alternated between picking me up and slamming me down and hitting me so hard that I bounced. I don't know how long it went on for, but it stopped when I just told him what he wanted to hear. For weeks he called me a liar and said that I deserved it. And every time he called me a liar, I believed it because I had lied just to get him to stop.
At about 13 he started trying to get me to move in with him. The beating hadn't stopped but he was so pervasive with trying to get me to do it that I gave in eventually. I just wanted him to be proud of me. That same year he slammed me against the wall so hard that I got a massive cut on my head. The beating stopped immediately as he tried to figure out what to do. He outright refused to take me to the hospital. Instead he got a bottle of new skin liquid stitch bullshit and globbed it into my hair. He sent me to school with a coagulated mix of blood and new skin stuck in my hair. The kids there picked on me for weeks and treated me like I was disgusting for it. Of course I couldn't tell them what it was. And I couldn't tell the teachers either when they pulled me aside in the halls. It's one of many scars that I still have from him.
Eventually, I did move in with him full time when I was seventeen. He used the weaknesses in my relationship with my mom to further divide us. The beatings had subsided at this point. Not due to anything other than his own back injury which left him 50% disabled and as I grew it took significantly more to hurt me, though I never fought back. But to give you an idea of the manipulation and paranoia that he had towards me, he took a trip to Canada in the middle of my school year. He set up game(hunting) cameras around the house to spy on me. And of course I found them and deleted the pictures except for maybe one or two of my middle finger. He was pretty absent at this point, he was on such heavy pain medication that it would be an absolute miracle if he even moved off the couch in the 16 hours between when I went to school and when I came home from work. And I was working a lot. By the time I graduated from high school I was putting in 70hr weeks at a minimum. I had already talked to the recruiter about joining and was trying to get a guaranteed job through them and was waiting for one to become available. I thought I had some time to relax while that was processing.
It was twenty two days between the day I graduated and the day he kicked me out. He had spent the whole week up in Canada with his girlfriend again. She was closer to my age than to his. He came home early and put all my stuff on the curb while I was at work. When I got back the first thing he did was take my phone and tell me to get out. He said that it was because I was unmotivated and because he didn't like my friends. The last thing he said to me is etched into my brain like acid, "Your a piece of shit and you'll never amount to anything."
I couldn't believe it. After all I had done to make him proud of me he just decided he was done with me. I worked for five years to move in with him and I changed my name for him. It was a moment guided by God that my friend on the next block over had given me a key to their place and asked me to walk their dog while they were gone just the day before. I carried my stuff in my arms to her house and collapsed on the couch and literally just sat there trying to figure out what I would do. At this point I had burned so many bridges with my mother for him that I didn't even know if she would take me. I called her the next day. Within a week I had a second job. I talked to the recruiter again and stepped up plans to join the military. And I became an aircraft maintainer just like him.
I served for 7 years. 6 years on active duty and 1 in the reserve stationed in Texas the entire time. And after that I moved to Colorado to pursue a career outside of the military. Over the years, Dad and I would talk. We never talked about the past, but we could talk.
Fast forward to the past six months. Dad met a new girl(f24). Yes, in the last six months. She is almost a decade younger than me and my sister. Dad told me in December that he had a new girlfriend. He told me in January that he was getting married. I had been talking with my sister(f34) and she said that they were trying for a kid.
And just like that the memories starting flashing back to me of what it was like to be his son. And I've done a lot of growing in my years. I know how to take accountability of my actions. And I pride myself on doing the right thing no matter how hard it is. And so I knew I had to have a discussion with him about it, especially because it was hard. I felt it in my heart. Because no kid deserves to grow up the way I did. I lived in constant fear that his temper would turn towards me in a moments notice. I didn't want another kid to grow up in the same environment of toxic paranoia and suspicion. So when he asked me in February if I would be his best man, I changed the subject. And I told him, "Look dad, I've forgiven you for a lot of things over the years. But if another kid has to live through that, then I'll never forgive you."
I was only about 3 hours away at the time, staying at a house provided by my company and had been hoping that he would come down and see us. But he made it abundantly clear in the weeks leading up to it that he wouldn't be there. I even invited my sister. She was staying with us when I had this conversation with him. The very next day after that conversation, she got a call from dad and he told her that they did a CT Scan and found tumors. They wouldn't know anything until the biopsy came back, but it didn't look good. He told her not to tell me. And God bless my sister, she took one look at me and fell to tears and told me everything immediately.
At this point, I figured he needed a few days to collect his thoughts and to process so I didn't try to rush things. I was anxious all week, waiting for the call to come from him. Waiting for him to have the balls to tell me. The call never came. So before my trip was over and I had to return home I called him. Multiple times I called him, but I was ignored. I still figured everything was fine and that he would come around. So I flew home. And I texted him when I got back. Trying to get him to reach out to me. I kept in close contact with my sister because she was my only eyes at the time. And she was also trying to get dad to call me. And every time I talked to her she told me about how great his new girlfriend was and how wonderfully supportive of him he was. To the point where it was getting annoying and I had to tell her, "Look you've convinced me to give her a chance can we please just leave it at that."
During this time the biopsy came back and he found out officially that he has Stage 4 pancreatic cancer that has metastasized in his stomach, bones, and liver. My sister updated me, she didn't have that full diagnostic but knew he had cancer.
By the end of that week, I hadn't heard from my sister, but the situation was already so hard to deal with that I wasn't upset about it. Well, unbeknownst to me. My sister had been talking to dads new girlfriend over text that Friday. His girlfriend had threatened to cut my sister and her son out of dads life if she didn't stop asking him to call me.
Now dad has done a lot of things wrong, but one of the things that he did right is he taught my sister and I to stand up for each other and to always have each others backs. He taught us that you don't fuck with family. He endowed us with that responsibility. And my sister has always taken it to the next level, she doesn't take it as a responsibility she takes it as her duty. And as she's grown she's expanded that to include not only me and her, but her son and my dad. So when she received those messages, she went over to their house to have a conversation with dads girlfriend the following Monday with her son. It culminated in dads girlfriend clocking my sister.
This is still February by the way. In case you forgot. I found out 2 days later. My sister basically told one of my aunts that if she heard anything about it to call her and get her side. And my aunt, immediately called her and demanded to know what happened. She talked to one of my other aunts super quickly and immediately called me. It was a wake up call. This whole time I had expected my dad to do the right thing and call me. And that call reminded me of just how crazy he was. I didn't know what I could do about it. I highly doubted that dad wanted to see me if he can't even be bothered to answer my calls. But the next day I broke out my secret weapon I had been saving, just in case. *67. I finally got through. He finally answered. And he was jovial when he did. I didn't even know what to say, but I tried. The call lasted 1 minute and 24 seconds before he said it was a bad time, that he'd call me later, and hung up. Later that night I texted him to see if he was still going to call. Moments later he sent a group text to my sister and I both. The long and short of it is that he lashed out. He said we never really loved him, that he didn't want us around, and that he didn't want us at his funeral let alone in his life. And of course, I poured my heart into a 1000 word text message to him to get him to see my side. Its a message he never got, he had already blocked my number. There were so many messages that he didn't get.
I flew out there the following Monday night. It was just about the beginning of March. The aunt my sister called, Aunt T we'll call her, came all the way up from NC just to make sure that I didn't have to go alone. My aunt that lives in town (Aunt Q) isn't on speaking terms with him because he sent her and her husband nude photos of his girlfriend. But she let me stay with her in a spare bedroom. Aunt T went with me the next day to shovel the driveway at dads house. I texted dad that I was on the way a couple hours in advance. I couldn't be certain, but I highly suspected that I was blocked. I figured it would be a good way to start repairing our relationship. I was so nervous walking up to his house I was sure he wasn't even going to say a word, just start swinging immediately. And from the look on his face, it seemed like what he wanted to do. But he wouldn't dare with Aunt T there. That night he sent the most BS thank you I've ever even seen. Thanks but no thanks would've been less bullshit. But again I responded with a heart felt message. It snowed again later that week and I did the same thing. I texted ahead to let him know that I was coming, plenty of time for him to respond. Then I showed up shovel in hand to find that everything had been taken care of already. But dad was on the back porch smoking a cigarette, so I walked up and asked him for one. He seemed in a much better mood. He mentioned that it would be nice to know when I was coming so he could plan accordingly and I said that I texted him. Immediately, he said I didn't have my phone on me so I didn't see it. This time while I was over he emailed me some of the cancer documentation in case I needed it for work. Great, I had an alternate contact method.
One of the things that he had mentioned was that he was starting chemo on Monday and needed to isolate after starting. And when I went home, it tugged at my heart that my sister wouldn't get to see him before he started chemo. So I texted him that I wanted us to get together me, my sister, her son, and him. This time I also forwarded it to his email that I was coming by at a specific time to do this. Of course he was busy when we all showed up. We burned hours worth of time, but eventually the four of us went to Denny's.
That was the beginning of repairing our relationship. Most of the crazy has fallen off a bit since then. He did try to say that I was only here for the money or inheritance or whatever. But since he unblocked me while we were at Denny's I knew he would get a response from me. So I sent him every text that I had sent him the time since he had blocked me and addressed all of the bullshit point by point. And dad makes excuses for what his girlfriend did. He says she fights for him. He says that she was looking out for him. Which is just such bullshit. Because that is what my sister did and he has outright said that he is disappointed in her. Why is it right when his girlfriend does it but not my sister? And even though I've tried to repair our relationship with dad. My sister is taking this so hard. He takes literally zero accountability for his actions, for lashing out at us, for anything. I've extended a hundred olive branches in his direction, even went to his wedding, and for what? So that she can keep hurting? I want so desperately to talk to him about her and try to get him to see her side of this.
To sum up my sisters side of this primarily because this is what I would want to say to him:
Your girlfriend threatened to stop allowing my sister and her son to see him if she even brought me up. To my sister, that crossed the line that you don't fuck with family. And protecting family is more than a responsibility to her, it is a duty. A duty which you charged her with. And she takes it incredibly seriously. You've said a hundred times that your girlfriend fights for you. Well, so do we. How can you be happy that your girlfriend stands up for family while in the same breathe cursing my sister for it? She drew a line in the sand that says you don't fuck with family and because you didn't draw the same line she feels unloved and unwanted. I don't even know if your relationship with her is repairable anymore.My sister has asked me not to talk to him though. She wants to take some time to collect her emotions and thoughts on it. She is tired of no one ever holding him accountable. And me, well, none of this is a surprise. I've been trying to play the long game with him to regain his trust so that I can come in as his ally to talk about my sister with him. But this is dad through and through. He has never cared about anything more than getting his dick wet and never cared about anyone more than himself. And the lies and manipulation are just par for the course. My sister insists that over the years he has gotten better, but I think the past 2 months prove otherwise.
I don't know what to do about any of this. I've been living at Aunt Q's house for over two months now and I finally planned a trip back home. I went to the wedding as I mentioned and while it was awkward. The interactions I had with dad were not bad and neither were the interactions I had with the part of the family which attended. Most of them weren't invited. My sister included. In fact, I wasn't invited. I had to explicitly ask if dad wanted me to go. A question that he dodged in favor of asking his girlfriend. I do feel like dad is starting to round a corner in dealing with his feelings surrounding his diagnosis. Which for the uninitiated is essentially 6 months to a year and a half.
I came up here to repair my relationship with him and I think I've been successful because I let the bullshit fall to the side pretty easily. I grew up with him and my sister didn't. I just know that he will never accept fault, take blame, or accountability. Even when he lies to my face I don't call him on it. It hurts to hold that inside, but he is my dad and is dying. If he were going to change it would've happened by now.
So I'm posting here primarily to find a friendly ear, and maybe some advice. I told you all that I came up here to repair our relationship. And I'm doing it because it is the right thing to do and I pride myself on doing the right thing no matter how hard it is. There isn't a thing that this man can throw at me that I can't handle. My sister on the other hand. She is hurting so much. If my sister decides she is done and walks away, then I need to be prepared to do so to. She and her son need someone on their side.
2023.05.02 17:17 SchlesingerMindy323 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in CT Hiring Now!
2023.04.26 23:12 Sea-Sympathy5350 Jim and Kathy
Jim had just taken the day off and was headed to the hospital without his long-term live-in girlfriend’s knowledge. He has been having headaches that have been getting worse as time went on.
Jim lived with Kathy for the past 10 years and they by all rights should have been married.
Kathy had been through a bad abusive marriage after leaving college. She was in a relationship with her college boyfriend and when they graduated, they married. He went to work at his father’s law office making very good money. Kathy was going to continue her schooling to get her master’s in political science. She had a part time job and was also a TA for a professor at the college she attended. About 4 months after they were married, a switch went off in her husband’s head, he no longer wanted his wife to work or even continue her studies. She was an independent woman and would not accept his request, they fought often over it, neither one was willing to give in. Things had gotten heated as time went on, her husband became very verbally abusive. One night during a fight over the schooling, he grabbed her by her arm and just kept squeezing it and when he finally released, she had the imprint of his hand already turning into a bruise. She moved out the next day and filed for divorce. She had seen the abuse before between her mother and father and was not going to let it happen to her.
Kathy is why they never married; she was always afraid the switch would happen again. So, Jim and Kathy lived their lives without being married, but did all the same things as a married couple. They celebrated anniversaries but it was on the day they met, not the day they were married. They bought a home together and shared all the major decisions just like all married couples. If you didn’t know you would have thought, they had a great marriage. Kathy was upfront to all their friends, why they never married, and Jim was good with the situation and loved her unconditionally.
Jim went into the hospital and took a series of tests including blood and urine, and even had an MRI and CT scan. Jim went to a park near his home and waited for his normal time to return from work. He never told Kathy about the doctor’s visit and went on as normal. The headaches continued but he never said anything to Kathy. A few days later Jim gets the call from his doctor’s office to come in a talk about the results. He set up the time for the next day. Jim had left work early and headed to the appointment. The doctor sat there and asked if he had anyone with him on this visit and Jim asked why. The doctor said he had a serious issue to discuss with him and he may need some support. Jim said no he was alone and wanted to know what was going on with his body. The doctor first went over the results of the blood and urine tests, and they showed some disturbing levels and then he said the CT scan results proved what the blood test had indicated. Jim had a tumor in his brain and it was inoperable. Jim was told that he was terminal and had between 10 months to a year and a half left. The was no treatment, but they could try chemo but, this was just a band-aid and would only extend his life for a few months at the most. After about 20 minutes Jim got up and thanked the doctor and walked to his car, He sat in the parking lot, he just let it out. He was crying and yelling, “why me”. Jim was an athlete during his youth and still ran every morning. He ate right and never touch drugs or alcohol. He went back to the park as before and sat there trying to find a way to tell Kathy.
Jim’s dad had cancer 15 years ago and his mom went to the hospital every day and watched him turn into a ghost of himself, it took a toll on her mentally. When he died Jim’s mom was in the room and was holding his hand as he passed. On her way home she lost control of the car and ran off the road and hit a tree at 70 miles an hour and died. He didn’t want Kathy to go through that or even see him suffer from this illness. He returned home and just sat in silence as Kathy was making them dinner. Jim was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t know what to do. Jim didn’t sleep that night, just laid in bed and thought how he would tell Kathy and when. He got up the next morning and went on his run, he had a plan in his head and needed to start it today. He went home showered and shaved and left the house as normal. He went to work and called the HR department and set up a time to meet with them. He told the HR manager the sad news and told her not to say anything to anyone, but he was going to quit to put his life in order. He went home and Kathy was working, he sat on the PC, he started by completing the paperwork on pulling his 401k out. He called the banks and made sure that Kathy was the beneficiary on all his accounts. He contacted a lawyer to get a last will and testament, leaving Kathy everything. Then he contacted a funeral home, set up an appointment to get his final resting place, He would buy 2 lots in case Kathy wanted to be next to him when her time comes. She could sell it later if she wished. Then he went back to the park and waited for the time to pass as if he had been at work all day.
He went home and was just distant from Kathy and when she asked, he said nothing and just sat in silence. All night Kathy was concerned and just tried to get him to open up, but he just sat there. This went on for 3 or 4 days. Jim told her they needed to sit and talk. He sat with tears in his eyes and told Kathy that he needed to take a break, he was leaving town for a new opportunity with another company. Kathy was crying and screaming why. He just kept talking saying he had been feeling this way for a year, he just needed to get out. She was crying and begging him to work on whatever was wrong, but he said there was nothing to work out. He told her he was leaving the next day and hoped she would respect his request. The next day he had packed his clothes as Kathy pleaded with him to explain but he just couldn’t. As he was walking out the door, he said he would continue to pay half the mortgage for as long as she needed, and he loved her from the bottom of his heart. Then he closed the door to Kathy on her knees crying. She was yelling from the house and Jim could hear her asking why.
Jim moved into a rundown apartment across town, changed his phone number and removed all his social media accounts, which in turn closed all ties to Kathy and friends, He went totally off the grid. He decided to let the tumor do what it needed and refused Chemo and just let things take its course. As he got weaker, and his thoughts became more of a struggle he hired a home nurse. Her name was Amy, she took care of his daily medication for pain, keeping him clean and feeding him. During this time, she had a journal and Jim would tell her stories about his life with Kathy, she would write it down. She didn’t know why she felt like she needed to journal this, but she felt it was important.
Several months later Jim was looking worse, the time was nearing so he got the will he had made up and wrote a letter to Kathy explaining everything, saying he did this to spare her from seeing him suffer as this was taking over his mind and body. He placed them in an envelope and put stamps and placed it on the table. When Amy arrived that day, he instructed her to mail it when he passed. She agreed and started to tend to his needs for the day. The next week Amy was there, Jim was in great spirits and was very talkative and ate everything that was in front of him. He was telling her stories. He was just in the best mood Amy had ever seen in him. The next morning when she arrived Jim was lying in his bed and had passed away overnight. She broke down in tears, she took the sheets and covered his face. She made all the calls to the hospital and the funeral home. She took the envelope and headed to the post office. She stopped and looked into her bag, and she had the journal and made a rash decision.
Amy was standing on Kathy’s doorstep later that evening and rang the bell. When Kathy opened the door, she explained she had some papers from Jim, but would like to sit down and tell her about Jim. Amy and Kathy sat at the kitchen table. Amy started by giving her condolences on the passing of Jim. Kathy had not been told anything about Jim, she didn’t even know he was sick. Amy explained that she was Jim’s nurse and had been with him for the past 6 months. During that time Jim had told her so many stories about Jim’s life with her and she wrote down almost everything he said, she wanted her to have the journal of Jim’s memory. Amy handed her the journal along with the envelope that contained his will and his letter to her. Kathy was just sitting there but the next thing she fell to the ground, she fainted. Amy got her into a sitting position, and she just sat there crying on Amy shoulder for the better part of an hour. She asked Amy to stay as she went through the envelope that Jim had sent her. She read it to herself and was balling, she would stop reading and gather herself and return to reading more. Amy just sat there for hours, Amy said that she was a very lucky woman to have a man like Jim in her life, he was a very special man. Amy also told her that in the past 6 months all he talked about her, she would see that when she decides to read the journal. Amy stayed with her for several more hours. They later became close friends over Jim’s memories. They both knew they were part of a special man’s life and shared their stories with each other. Jim died 11 months to the day after his diagnosis and was laid to rest 6 days later. All his friends and coworkers were there. It was such a somber day for so many of them.
Rest in peace Jim.
submitted by Sea-Sympathy5350 to FictionWriting [link] [comments]
Jim lived with Kathy for the past 10 years and they by all rights should have been married.
Kathy had been through a bad abusive marriage after leaving college. She was in a relationship with her college boyfriend and when they graduated, they married. He went to work at his father’s law office making very good money. Kathy was going to continue her schooling to get her master’s in political science. She had a part time job and was also a TA for a professor at the college she attended. About 4 months after they were married, a switch went off in her husband’s head, he no longer wanted his wife to work or even continue her studies. She was an independent woman and would not accept his request, they fought often over it, neither one was willing to give in. Things had gotten heated as time went on, her husband became very verbally abusive. One night during a fight over the schooling, he grabbed her by her arm and just kept squeezing it and when he finally released, she had the imprint of his hand already turning into a bruise. She moved out the next day and filed for divorce. She had seen the abuse before between her mother and father and was not going to let it happen to her.
Kathy is why they never married; she was always afraid the switch would happen again. So, Jim and Kathy lived their lives without being married, but did all the same things as a married couple. They celebrated anniversaries but it was on the day they met, not the day they were married. They bought a home together and shared all the major decisions just like all married couples. If you didn’t know you would have thought, they had a great marriage. Kathy was upfront to all their friends, why they never married, and Jim was good with the situation and loved her unconditionally.
Jim went into the hospital and took a series of tests including blood and urine, and even had an MRI and CT scan. Jim went to a park near his home and waited for his normal time to return from work. He never told Kathy about the doctor’s visit and went on as normal. The headaches continued but he never said anything to Kathy. A few days later Jim gets the call from his doctor’s office to come in a talk about the results. He set up the time for the next day. Jim had left work early and headed to the appointment. The doctor sat there and asked if he had anyone with him on this visit and Jim asked why. The doctor said he had a serious issue to discuss with him and he may need some support. Jim said no he was alone and wanted to know what was going on with his body. The doctor first went over the results of the blood and urine tests, and they showed some disturbing levels and then he said the CT scan results proved what the blood test had indicated. Jim had a tumor in his brain and it was inoperable. Jim was told that he was terminal and had between 10 months to a year and a half left. The was no treatment, but they could try chemo but, this was just a band-aid and would only extend his life for a few months at the most. After about 20 minutes Jim got up and thanked the doctor and walked to his car, He sat in the parking lot, he just let it out. He was crying and yelling, “why me”. Jim was an athlete during his youth and still ran every morning. He ate right and never touch drugs or alcohol. He went back to the park as before and sat there trying to find a way to tell Kathy.
Jim’s dad had cancer 15 years ago and his mom went to the hospital every day and watched him turn into a ghost of himself, it took a toll on her mentally. When he died Jim’s mom was in the room and was holding his hand as he passed. On her way home she lost control of the car and ran off the road and hit a tree at 70 miles an hour and died. He didn’t want Kathy to go through that or even see him suffer from this illness. He returned home and just sat in silence as Kathy was making them dinner. Jim was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t know what to do. Jim didn’t sleep that night, just laid in bed and thought how he would tell Kathy and when. He got up the next morning and went on his run, he had a plan in his head and needed to start it today. He went home showered and shaved and left the house as normal. He went to work and called the HR department and set up a time to meet with them. He told the HR manager the sad news and told her not to say anything to anyone, but he was going to quit to put his life in order. He went home and Kathy was working, he sat on the PC, he started by completing the paperwork on pulling his 401k out. He called the banks and made sure that Kathy was the beneficiary on all his accounts. He contacted a lawyer to get a last will and testament, leaving Kathy everything. Then he contacted a funeral home, set up an appointment to get his final resting place, He would buy 2 lots in case Kathy wanted to be next to him when her time comes. She could sell it later if she wished. Then he went back to the park and waited for the time to pass as if he had been at work all day.
He went home and was just distant from Kathy and when she asked, he said nothing and just sat in silence. All night Kathy was concerned and just tried to get him to open up, but he just sat there. This went on for 3 or 4 days. Jim told her they needed to sit and talk. He sat with tears in his eyes and told Kathy that he needed to take a break, he was leaving town for a new opportunity with another company. Kathy was crying and screaming why. He just kept talking saying he had been feeling this way for a year, he just needed to get out. She was crying and begging him to work on whatever was wrong, but he said there was nothing to work out. He told her he was leaving the next day and hoped she would respect his request. The next day he had packed his clothes as Kathy pleaded with him to explain but he just couldn’t. As he was walking out the door, he said he would continue to pay half the mortgage for as long as she needed, and he loved her from the bottom of his heart. Then he closed the door to Kathy on her knees crying. She was yelling from the house and Jim could hear her asking why.
Jim moved into a rundown apartment across town, changed his phone number and removed all his social media accounts, which in turn closed all ties to Kathy and friends, He went totally off the grid. He decided to let the tumor do what it needed and refused Chemo and just let things take its course. As he got weaker, and his thoughts became more of a struggle he hired a home nurse. Her name was Amy, she took care of his daily medication for pain, keeping him clean and feeding him. During this time, she had a journal and Jim would tell her stories about his life with Kathy, she would write it down. She didn’t know why she felt like she needed to journal this, but she felt it was important.
Several months later Jim was looking worse, the time was nearing so he got the will he had made up and wrote a letter to Kathy explaining everything, saying he did this to spare her from seeing him suffer as this was taking over his mind and body. He placed them in an envelope and put stamps and placed it on the table. When Amy arrived that day, he instructed her to mail it when he passed. She agreed and started to tend to his needs for the day. The next week Amy was there, Jim was in great spirits and was very talkative and ate everything that was in front of him. He was telling her stories. He was just in the best mood Amy had ever seen in him. The next morning when she arrived Jim was lying in his bed and had passed away overnight. She broke down in tears, she took the sheets and covered his face. She made all the calls to the hospital and the funeral home. She took the envelope and headed to the post office. She stopped and looked into her bag, and she had the journal and made a rash decision.
Amy was standing on Kathy’s doorstep later that evening and rang the bell. When Kathy opened the door, she explained she had some papers from Jim, but would like to sit down and tell her about Jim. Amy and Kathy sat at the kitchen table. Amy started by giving her condolences on the passing of Jim. Kathy had not been told anything about Jim, she didn’t even know he was sick. Amy explained that she was Jim’s nurse and had been with him for the past 6 months. During that time Jim had told her so many stories about Jim’s life with her and she wrote down almost everything he said, she wanted her to have the journal of Jim’s memory. Amy handed her the journal along with the envelope that contained his will and his letter to her. Kathy was just sitting there but the next thing she fell to the ground, she fainted. Amy got her into a sitting position, and she just sat there crying on Amy shoulder for the better part of an hour. She asked Amy to stay as she went through the envelope that Jim had sent her. She read it to herself and was balling, she would stop reading and gather herself and return to reading more. Amy just sat there for hours, Amy said that she was a very lucky woman to have a man like Jim in her life, he was a very special man. Amy also told her that in the past 6 months all he talked about her, she would see that when she decides to read the journal. Amy stayed with her for several more hours. They later became close friends over Jim’s memories. They both knew they were part of a special man’s life and shared their stories with each other. Jim died 11 months to the day after his diagnosis and was laid to rest 6 days later. All his friends and coworkers were there. It was such a somber day for so many of them.
Rest in peace Jim.
2023.04.10 17:55 ReadyToMoveAway Help narrowing areas to move (maybe: "the kind of post this sub hates"?)
If there's a better sub for this, please point me in that direction - I know my question casts a broad net, and may not be ideal here.
TLDR: My family and I are looking to move to the NE, and know we'll pay a premium (taxes, real estate, etc) to do so. Connecticut is one of our top contenders right now, but because my spouse and I both work remote, we don't have a particular reason to be in one area of CT vs. another, and we're having trouble assessing the "vibe" of various areas online. (We'll be scheduling some trips to come visit in person, too, once we've narrowed things down a bit).
We've been looking at a number of areas - dollars seem to go furthest near Stanford or Hartford, and we've also been coming upon smaller areas like Glastonbury, Southbury, Newtown, Monroe, Wilton etc (per our Redfin research etc). But we haven't been able to suss out much about the "vibe" of these areas.
Here's what we're hoping for:
Edited to add: if you have any realtor reccomendations you've worked with who are great at helping out-of-staters find the right spot/home, I'd really appreciate their contact info too.
submitted by ReadyToMoveAway to Connecticut [link] [comments]
TLDR: My family and I are looking to move to the NE, and know we'll pay a premium (taxes, real estate, etc) to do so. Connecticut is one of our top contenders right now, but because my spouse and I both work remote, we don't have a particular reason to be in one area of CT vs. another, and we're having trouble assessing the "vibe" of various areas online. (We'll be scheduling some trips to come visit in person, too, once we've narrowed things down a bit).
We've been looking at a number of areas - dollars seem to go furthest near Stanford or Hartford, and we've also been coming upon smaller areas like Glastonbury, Southbury, Newtown, Monroe, Wilton etc (per our Redfin research etc). But we haven't been able to suss out much about the "vibe" of these areas.
Here's what we're hoping for:
- A liberal, non-MAGA, inclusive type of vibe
- Good public schools (elementary, middle, highschool - our kids are young so we'll need all)
- A place where we don't have to join expensive country / water clubs to feel like we're 'part of the community'.
- (To clarify - we're OK with memberships in general to access fun activities etc - but we don't want to feel like we're less than - or, especially, have our kids feel that way -- if we aren't living that life 1%-er "big dollar country club" life, if that makes sense. And yes, I know this is a big time stereotype that's probably not fair at all - but because we don't know how true (or not) it is, we wanted to be explicit)
- We're looking for single family home in family-friendly neighborhood
- EG: plenty of kids living in the neighborhood, safe for kids to go biking / running back and forth b/c other friends' houses, homes have backyard space to play in etc... yes, we're walking cliches...
- "Family" type amenities in near-enough proximity: after school care options, kids sports leagues, clubs, libraries, parks, maybe community pools or similar options, etc
- Grocery store access isn't a long drive; things like Targets etc no more than 30ish mins away
- Bonus points: Access via car and/or train to bigger city with reasonable jobs in technology incase either of us need to find a new job (1-1.5 hours is probably OK - we doubt we need this option any time soon but would like to have it our back pocket should we need to change jobs to something in person).
- Our budget is probably 750k for a 4+ bedroom home, ideally > 3000 ft (so we have room for family from the state we're leaving to come stay and visit) - I know this narrows where we can look. We do recognize this may not be realistic however, and are open to adjusting our expectations or slightly increasing budget if we have to.
- Bonus points if closer to Greenwich area due to friends who are about to move there - but I'm not sure that's financially realistic for us
Edited to add: if you have any realtor reccomendations you've worked with who are great at helping out-of-staters find the right spot/home, I'd really appreciate their contact info too.
2023.04.09 14:10 WilsonTeresa223 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in nurse Hiring Now!
2023.04.09 13:54 WilsonTeresa223 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in nurse Hiring Now!
2023.04.09 12:57 awlavery https://www.oldnewenglandhouses.com/post/southbury-ct-home-built-in-1782-25-pictures
submitted by awlavery to OldNewEnglandHouses [link] [comments]
2023.04.08 18:34 DismalVariation702 The audacity of being over budget. But I guess it’s worth it for that “realistic” return on improvement 😂😂
 | submitted by DismalVariation702 to BitLifeApp [link] [comments] |
2023.03.27 01:59 IamAGuy6 America's Grace
 | submitted by IamAGuy6 to imaginaryelections [link] [comments] |
2023.03.24 17:31 Thin_Scarcity_4546 I only lost $1M its not that deep…
 | submitted by Thin_Scarcity_4546 to BitLifeApp [link] [comments] |
2023.03.23 13:19 BADgrrl The beginning of the end
I've been lurking here for a bit, reading your stories, taking great comfort from many and learning a lot. Today I think I just need a space to get some thoughts out, and maybe get some insight. Fair warning, it will probably get long and I'll hold my questions 'til the end.
My partner (52M, if it matters) Thad (usual disclaimer of pseudonym use; names make it easier, though) has a fairly rare and aggressive cancer, adenoneuroendocrine carcinoma in the liver with mets to the lung. Without getting into too many details (there are a LOT, this is a weird, weird situation), he was diagnosed in December 2021. And in February 2022, he had surgery; they resected his ileum and liver, removing several tumors, and performed microwave ablation on a few more in his liver that were too small to resect.
Post surgery, he dealt with months of recurring infections (abscesses in his liver). He's had months of heavy-duty chemo (carboplatin + etoposide, every three weeks, infused over three days), which wrapped up 6 weeks ago. His oncologist was giving him a bit of a break before starting Folfox in a couple of weeks, because the first chemo caused pretty severe anemia... they wanted to clear that up and let him feel better for a bit before he started over again. Well, he hasn't felt better at all and end of last week was starting to feel the telltale signs of another infection/abscess. Friday his oncologist called late in the afternoon and sent him to the ER for a CT scan, and he was admitted because he was showing all of the signs of another infection.
We went into this knowing that this cancer is aggressive and difficult to treat. We knew it would never be cured, but that there was some hope of managing it. And the CT scan after chemo showed that the chemo seemed to be doing just that. We had no progression and little change. The CT scan Friday, however, shows that the cancer is not only not responding to treatment, it has progressed aggressively and rapidly.... he now has a tangerine-sized tumor in his liver and the nodules in his lungs have grown as well.
Well... He didn't really want to do chemo in the first place. He's got (older) kids, though, and in spite of the fact that it was a long shot, he opted to give chemo a chance, just in case. And he did... he was 100% in, as was I. He never missed an appointment, took his meds, did was he was asked to do. And now his team is telling us that while they can throw more chemo at it, there's very little chance of it doing any good. His prognosis is being spoken of in terms of weeks/months, even IF he has chemo. So... he's not. He's done. And I agree with and support his choice... this might sound like a "duh, he's your partner" moment, but it matters because his mother does NOT agree and while the overwhelming majority of people around him ARE supportive, her voice in his head is *loud* and it's breaking his heart that she's being so very unsupportive, selfish and closed minded. Even giving her grace because she's afraid isn't enough to really justify just how ugly she's been, so it's been a long, difficult weekend/week for us.
Anyway, struggles with his mother notwithstanding, he decided for sure yesterday he just wants to come home. He has long and short term disability coverage at work, so that's on the agenda to get him on one of those so he's not financially bereft (we're not married, so I can't carry him on my insurance). We've been referred to a palliative and hospice care agency. I'm at home today so that the DME company can come set up the equipment the hospice agency ordered, and then he should be discharged this afternoon. In spite of what I said about his mother, we DO have an amazing and extensive support system, so we're NOT on our own, by any means.
Here's kind of where I'm adrift, though. First the end of life stuff, since we're pressed for time and it's imperative we get it done.
My good friend is a social worker at a hospital in another city (same state and even the same hospital system, just another entity) and she sent me the 5 Wishes documentation, which is legally binding in Louisiana where we are. That will cover the basics for a medical POA for me, with documentation of the things he wants that I've committed to supporting for his care. It also covers advanced directives and living will. We're doing that first thing when he gets home so his care team and doctors have that information. Yes, we know we should have LONG done something like this, and we've talked about it, but put it off, like many do.
I've spoken with an attorney as well, and we'll be seeing him to have a will drawn up so that what money he does have goes to his kids and stays out of the hands of his mother and ex, and we'll likely have an advanced Funeral Declaration drawn up as well, since he's adamant about what he does and doesn't want to happen with his body. We'll be reviewing his accounts and making sure there are beneficiaries named for all of those.
I have a checklist, and we're going to power through it... but any thoughts on some things any of you have encountered that wasn't on *your* checklists that I might want to address with him?
As for the care angle, I've been his caregiver since he was diagnosed. I've got some long-past medical background that's been a godsend... I was a paramedic, but left that work more than two decades ago; my skills are rusty, but the knowledge is still there, thankfully. I'm somewhat familiar with hospice from the outside... another friend is a 30-year veteran hospice nurse. She's retired now but she's said she's always open to answering questions if I have concerns. But I've never dealt with having nurses and other caregivers in our home before and I'm wondering what to expect. Bonus if anyone has dealt with end stage liver disease/cancer and can help me prepare for that.
Thanks in advance, folks, if only just for reading this. I'm feeling a little selfish hoping he holds on until the end of April so we can have one last anniversary. We've only been together 6 years, and it's not enough, y'know? Ugh. Anyway, thanks.
submitted by BADgrrl to CancerCaregivers [link] [comments]
My partner (52M, if it matters) Thad (usual disclaimer of pseudonym use; names make it easier, though) has a fairly rare and aggressive cancer, adenoneuroendocrine carcinoma in the liver with mets to the lung. Without getting into too many details (there are a LOT, this is a weird, weird situation), he was diagnosed in December 2021. And in February 2022, he had surgery; they resected his ileum and liver, removing several tumors, and performed microwave ablation on a few more in his liver that were too small to resect.
Post surgery, he dealt with months of recurring infections (abscesses in his liver). He's had months of heavy-duty chemo (carboplatin + etoposide, every three weeks, infused over three days), which wrapped up 6 weeks ago. His oncologist was giving him a bit of a break before starting Folfox in a couple of weeks, because the first chemo caused pretty severe anemia... they wanted to clear that up and let him feel better for a bit before he started over again. Well, he hasn't felt better at all and end of last week was starting to feel the telltale signs of another infection/abscess. Friday his oncologist called late in the afternoon and sent him to the ER for a CT scan, and he was admitted because he was showing all of the signs of another infection.
We went into this knowing that this cancer is aggressive and difficult to treat. We knew it would never be cured, but that there was some hope of managing it. And the CT scan after chemo showed that the chemo seemed to be doing just that. We had no progression and little change. The CT scan Friday, however, shows that the cancer is not only not responding to treatment, it has progressed aggressively and rapidly.... he now has a tangerine-sized tumor in his liver and the nodules in his lungs have grown as well.
Well... He didn't really want to do chemo in the first place. He's got (older) kids, though, and in spite of the fact that it was a long shot, he opted to give chemo a chance, just in case. And he did... he was 100% in, as was I. He never missed an appointment, took his meds, did was he was asked to do. And now his team is telling us that while they can throw more chemo at it, there's very little chance of it doing any good. His prognosis is being spoken of in terms of weeks/months, even IF he has chemo. So... he's not. He's done. And I agree with and support his choice... this might sound like a "duh, he's your partner" moment, but it matters because his mother does NOT agree and while the overwhelming majority of people around him ARE supportive, her voice in his head is *loud* and it's breaking his heart that she's being so very unsupportive, selfish and closed minded. Even giving her grace because she's afraid isn't enough to really justify just how ugly she's been, so it's been a long, difficult weekend/week for us.
Anyway, struggles with his mother notwithstanding, he decided for sure yesterday he just wants to come home. He has long and short term disability coverage at work, so that's on the agenda to get him on one of those so he's not financially bereft (we're not married, so I can't carry him on my insurance). We've been referred to a palliative and hospice care agency. I'm at home today so that the DME company can come set up the equipment the hospice agency ordered, and then he should be discharged this afternoon. In spite of what I said about his mother, we DO have an amazing and extensive support system, so we're NOT on our own, by any means.
Here's kind of where I'm adrift, though. First the end of life stuff, since we're pressed for time and it's imperative we get it done.
My good friend is a social worker at a hospital in another city (same state and even the same hospital system, just another entity) and she sent me the 5 Wishes documentation, which is legally binding in Louisiana where we are. That will cover the basics for a medical POA for me, with documentation of the things he wants that I've committed to supporting for his care. It also covers advanced directives and living will. We're doing that first thing when he gets home so his care team and doctors have that information. Yes, we know we should have LONG done something like this, and we've talked about it, but put it off, like many do.
I've spoken with an attorney as well, and we'll be seeing him to have a will drawn up so that what money he does have goes to his kids and stays out of the hands of his mother and ex, and we'll likely have an advanced Funeral Declaration drawn up as well, since he's adamant about what he does and doesn't want to happen with his body. We'll be reviewing his accounts and making sure there are beneficiaries named for all of those.
I have a checklist, and we're going to power through it... but any thoughts on some things any of you have encountered that wasn't on *your* checklists that I might want to address with him?
As for the care angle, I've been his caregiver since he was diagnosed. I've got some long-past medical background that's been a godsend... I was a paramedic, but left that work more than two decades ago; my skills are rusty, but the knowledge is still there, thankfully. I'm somewhat familiar with hospice from the outside... another friend is a 30-year veteran hospice nurse. She's retired now but she's said she's always open to answering questions if I have concerns. But I've never dealt with having nurses and other caregivers in our home before and I'm wondering what to expect. Bonus if anyone has dealt with end stage liver disease/cancer and can help me prepare for that.
Thanks in advance, folks, if only just for reading this. I'm feeling a little selfish hoping he holds on until the end of April so we can have one last anniversary. We've only been together 6 years, and it's not enough, y'know? Ugh. Anyway, thanks.
2023.03.13 15:59 SchlesingerMindy323 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in CT Hiring Now!
2023.03.10 16:45 SchlesingerMindy323 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in CT Hiring Now!
2023.03.10 14:17 Skulenta BS
"In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."
Buffy Anne Summers (born 1981) was your typical Californian teenager when she discovered she was the Slayer; the next in a long line of young women imbued with the strength and skill to battle supernatural evil. Buffy's life then quickly fell apart as her parents divorced, she became estranged from her peers and was expelled from high school for burning down the gymnasium fighting vampires. Moving to Sunnydale, Buffy was content on re-establishing her normal life only to discover this particular town was built on the site of a Hellmouth.While Slayers typically lived a short and solitary life, Buffy defied the odds as one of the longest-surviving Slayers in history. Buffy's success is greatly owed to the involvement of her Scooby Gang, a tight-knit group consisting of both humans and supernatural beings alike. With the Scoobies' aid, Buffy has thwarted the likes of ancient vampires, primordial demons, wicked witches, robots, super soldiers, gods, evil geniuses and even the manifestation of Evil itself.
After averting one of several apocalypses, Buffy broke the rules again when she had every potential Slayer in the world activated into real Slayers.
Gear
- Cross Necklace
- Cross Necklace
- Slayer Stash
- Weapons
- Torture Vamp
- Rocket Launcher
- Still has rocket launcher
- Carry Stake
- Weapons from A-Z
- Weapons
- Does Not Like Guns
- Never Useful
- Weapons
- Weapons
- Slayer Emergency Kit
- Scythe Activates Slayers
- Scythe Stake Turok Han
- Turok Han staked
- Scythe Stake into Stone
- Scythe Power
Intelligence
Manipulation- Kills a particularly tough vampire by pretending it's daytime and breaking a window so she can stake him while he's distracted.
- Defeats a duo of assassins by planting their own tracking device onto one of them.
- Passes her Cruciamentum by tricking the vampire she's pitted against into drinking holy water.
- Prevents a social worker from reporting her by sneaking into her workplace while invisible and making her look insane.
- Convinces Andrew he has to die and makes him feel remorseful so can he stabilize the Seal of Danzalthar with his tears.
- Identifies vampires by their outdated fashion sense or dance moves.
- Figures out that Amy has switched bodies with her mother while slowly dying from a curse.
- Correctly deduces that the new substitute teacher is a giant praying mantis from her own research.
- Uncovers a demonic slaver operation posing as a teen homeless shelter.
- Finds proof that her college dormmate is a demon while mentally-unstable.
- Realizes Giles was transformed into a demon by looking into his eyes.
- Realizes that Professor Walsh had lured her into a trap when she recognizes the demons used to eliminate her as the same ones her organization was experimenting on.
- Is the only person to notice the flaws of the fabricated reality that was conjured by Jonathan after observing his body language.
- Figures out that Spike was playing the Scoobies to get them to fall out.
- Breaks a time loop after much trial and error.
- Realizes that the Trio had set her up into believing she murdered a girl when recognizes her as Warren's old girlfriend.
- Notices that a trio of spirits are guarding the room where Spike is.
- Improvises stakes from objects in her environment in the middle of battle.
- Defeats a powerful witch by lowering a mirror in time to reflect her curse.
- Weakens the She-Mantis using bugspray and a bat sonar recording.
- Defeats the roboticized Moloch by tricking him into striking a circuit breaker.
- Kills Lurconis by improvising a flamethrower from a gas pipe and a torch flame.
- Kills Balthazar by dropping a light fixture into his water tank.
- Disorientates a group of commandoes wearing night vision goggles by firing a flare.
- Kills a demon with a faulty taser by chucking it into water.
- Helps Riley defeat his friend-turned-enemy by ripping up hazardous wires.
- Kills a trio of demons using tools at a construction site.
- Strangles a demon with a decorative wedding veil.
- Uses a fleeing hostage as a weapon.
- Slows down a Turok-Han by dropping a load of metal pipes on it.
- Using her newfound understanding from her brief stint as a telepath, she talks Jonathan out of committing suicide.
- The plan
- The big finish
- Campaign
- SAT
- We're gonna win
- Instantly identifies the period an axe originates from.
Skill
Innate- A uniting force among all Slayer is their shared spiritual connection. Every Slayer experiences the heroics of past Slayers via dreams.
- Through the spiritual connection, each Slayer possesses innate skill that they are taught to tap into.
- The first time Buffy is trained to use the quarterstaff, she demonstrates powerful maneuvers resulting in a quick victory against her Watcher Rupert Giles, somebody who was trained in combat from a young age. Despite claiming it would take hours of vigorous training with the staff before moving onto the crossbow, he agreed to teach her after her first lesson.
- Critique slaying.
- These instincts exist even before a Slayer is activated. Buffy teaches a group of potential Slayers to trust and hone their instincts despite lacking powers. These instincts kick in when she leaves them alone with a vampire unsupervised.
- The potential Amanda uses her inherent abilities to fight off some Bringers and slay a vampire after being encouraged to do so with no knowledge of what she is. \
- Training
- Giles Training
- Sexy Tai Chi
- Sparing with Angel
- Sparing with Riley
- New Training
- New and Improved
- Critiquing Movie
- Hybrid Fighting Style
- Amnesiac Fighting
- Suddenly appears before two vampires and attacks them when they're distracted.
- Sneaks into a ritual with multiple vampires and manages to slay one before she's noticed.
- Sneak up to limo driver
- Appears behind a vampire out of nowhere.
- Infiltrates the Initiative disguised as a scientist.
- Funeral home
- Inflitrates a ritual sacrifice disguised as one of the attendees.
- Tracks down the She-Mantis' home using the vampire who feared her, which she also was able to quickly locate in the sewers.
- Finds Ethan hiding in a crate in a room full of stock.
- Riley
- No indication
- Quickly locates the body of her charge shortly after she fled.
- Kills a fly by spitting a thumbtack at it.
- Shoots down targets in an arcade game without even looking at the screen.
- Tags Spike in the head with a censer, causing him to collapse onto a church organ which then collapses onto him.
- Stake Throw
- Shoot hellhound
- Spins around and stakes a vampire from behind.
- Spear Vampire
- Throw Strake
- Kills a spider demon in hiding in some trees by hurling up an axe.
- Kills a fleeing bringer with its own knife.
- Disarms foes, both skilled and unskilled alike.
- Disarms foes then equips their own weapon against them or their own allies.
- Redirects her foes' strikes so they kill their own allies.
- Disarm Watcher
- Dodges Adam's killing blow then breaks his arm skewer.
- Grabs a vampire's weapon as they turn to dust and uses it to kill her ally.
- Uses a foe's weapon to block his ally's weapon.
- Disarms a general by throwing a mace at his hand.
- Makes Darla, a 400 year old vampire, cower in fear after briefly trading blows.
- Kills the Master, the oldest vampire in recorded history.
- Fought Spike, a vampire infamous for killing Slayers in the past, on multiple occasions. Here are some of the most significant examples.
- Vs Spike
- Vs Spike
- Dukes it out with Buffy with such brutality that the building begins falling down around them, before ending in sex.
- Vs Angelus
- Vs Angelus
- Vs Feral Angel
- Vs Dracula
- Fends off Drusilla, Spike's former lover, while her arms are shackled.
- Solos a gang of demonic slavers, distracting them long enough for a sizable number of slaves to escape.
- 7 Vampires
- Vs Commandoes
- Slay Newborns
- Vs Knights
- Vs Knights of Byzantium
- Vs Demon Bikers
- Makes short work of Lagos, an ancient demon that wrecked Faith.
- Knocks out the Troll God Olaf with the help of Willow's magic and her own relationship grief.
- Defeats Warren when he's imbued with superior strength and invulnerability after destroying the source of his power.
- Kills the first Turok Han, an ancient and powerful breed of vampires, after a tough fight.
- Kills Caleb, the First Evil's right hand man with a little help from Angel.
- Vs Kendra
- Kendra Experience
- Vs Faith
- Vs Faith
- Buffy vs Faith 2
- Buffy vs Faith 1
- Buffy vs Faith 3
- Vs the First
- Nonchalantly trips a vampire in her way.
- Casually stakes vampires the moment they appear.
- Shoves Doc off a tower without even noticing him. This same demon swiftly bested a battered Spike.
Unorthodox Fighting
- Kills a large monster from within using a pickaxe.
- Kills a demon mercenary while attempting to minimize as much damage to her home possible.
- Fights off a trio of manifestations using a bundle of bricks in a school bag.
- Attacks her captors with the chains they used to restrain her.
- Vs Patrice
- Slit Skate
- Trashcan lid
- Not Drowned
- Vs Riley
- Defeats Hus, the spirit of a vengeful Native American warrior.
- Vs Mohra Demon
- Unicorn Stake
- The Spell to See Spells
- Chain Shadow Man
- Disarm Shooter
- First Scythe Kill
- Kills a genetically-enhanced behemoth vampire after being injured moments before.
- Kills a scorpion demon.
- Kills a giant winged demon.
Dreams
Strength
StrikingUnarmed
- Strikes so hard she sends her foes flying.
- Kicks a vampire through a brick wall.
- Smashes through a stone wall.
- Kicks open a doorway secured by a padlock and chains.
- Palmstrikes a combination lock, forming a hole where it was.
- Kicks open a set of locked doors, breaking the wood at the center and shattering the windows from the impact.
- Crashes through a boarded window.
- Kicks Riley across the room when told not to hold back, only to later admit she held back a little.
- Pummels the Spawn of Sobek to death.
- Kick Door
- Through Door
- Punching Bag
- Punches out of her coffin after being resurrected.
- Kicks the Bronze's door off its hinges.
- Kills a demon by punching into its midsection.
- Punches a vampire so hard he crashes through a wall.
- Casually kicks a metal door off its hinges.
- Snaps a blade apart over her knee.
- Swing kick
- Destroys a demon transformed into stone with a kick.
- Smashes a wooden door to splinters with a punch.
- Kicks into a bug demon's skull.
- Cut Machilda
- Plunges a shovel into Ovu Mobani's face.
- Axes through earth into an underground shroud.
- Decapitates a vampire with a car door.
- Bisects Caleb from the groin up with the Scythe.
- Knocks three Turok Han vampires off cliff with the Scythe.
- Decapitates a demon with a glass shard.
- Singehandedly heaves up a portcullis a group of laborers couldn't.
- Stops a demon from falling into the Hellmouth estimated to weigh 100-120 kilos and brings it back up to the surface.
- Lift debris.
- Capable of lifting and wielding Olaf's Hammer which Spike, a century old vampire, could not.
- Lifts a minecart onto the tracks and pushes both herself and a man along it.
- Carries steel girders with such ease she told off for speeding up construction.
- Yanks out a vampire out of his grave.
- Throws individuals considerable distances.
- Hurls a cymbal to decapitate a vampire.
- Hurls a piece of glass to sever a woman's arm.
- Tosses two Bringers aside like opening a set of curtains.
- Forces a locked door open with a good tug.
- Casually opens a crate her mother couldn't budge with a crowbar.
- Launches people through the air with a shove.
- Topples a barrier made of furniture.
- Breaks a demon's neck by slamming it into a wall.
- Pulls a stone coffin lid from under Spike then pushes it to pin him back.
- Decapitates a Turok Han with some barbed wire.
- Scythe from Rock
- Discreetly forces a locked door handle open.
- Breaks open a locked trunk.
- Pulls herself free when shackled to the ceiling or floor.
- Snaps the necks of demons (who are typically tougher than humans) with her bare hands.
- Rip Knob
- Rip Phone
- Incapitates a man by cracking his wrist.
- Kills a Suvolte Demon by breaking its neck which was dangerous enough to decimate entire villages by itself.
- Breaks a stalacttite off a cave ceiling to escape a neck grab.
- Pulls a huge demon's hand from her face and breaks it.
- Tears herself free from a straightjacket.
- Pries a vent grill off with her fingers.
- Bends a rifle barrel.
- Crushes a metal jug in her hand.
- Bends the bars of a jail cell offscreen.
- Not That Thing
- Kick Moloch
- Chandelier
- Bound
- Bomb Shelter
- Roped
- Net
- Rope not tight enough
- Stake
- Stronger than Angel
- Grief Weakens
- Coffin Kick
- That Scene
- No Turok Han
Agility
- Uses gymnastics to attack a demon and avoid its destruction.
- Quickly reaches the top of a high cliff.
- Hand Stand Swing Down
- Jump Over Gate
- Jump Over Master
- Box Flip
- Jump
- Jump
- Up
- Up stairs
- Uses acrobatic manveurs in combat
- Leap over skylight
- Leap Over flames
- Climb
- Jump Dracula
- Stake Dracula
- Hand Stand Meditation
- Jump Over Olaf
- Land On Feet
- Performs improbable midair kicks.
- Land on Feet
- Buzzsaws
- Flip Over
- Grave
- Jump Over
- Behind You
- Evading Caleb
- Avoids multiple robotic arms.
Senses
- Point Out Vampire
- Vampire Ambush
- Vampire Ambush
- Angel is a Vampire
- Sense the Three
- Sense Marcie
- Dodge Ball Awareness
- Vampire Ignores
- Sense Spike
- Spike back hit
- Sense Demon
- Sense Angel
- Grave Staking
- Sense Spike
- Sense Glory
- Invisible Demons
- Blindfighting
- Invisible fight
- Behind You
- Notice Invisible Girl
Speed
Running- Outruns the transformed and enraged Mayor to lure him into the library.
- Gets chased by a vampire through campus without being noticed by any of the other students present.
- Chases down a fleeing vampire.
- Chases down a serpentine demon that outpaced a car.
- Catches up to a speeding school bus that had a head start.
- Ducks a pouncing wolf.
- Catches thrown knives.
- Catch Blade
- Bear Trap
- Dodge Lightning
- Nice Reflexes
- Duck Blaster
- Sidestep blast
- Catch Crowbar
- When pursued by two demon bikers, she ducks away in time to make them collide into eachother.
- Training
- Save Spike
- Push Giles
- Catch Arrow
- Blitzes conjoined twins (one armed with handguns), landing several blows and flipping over them before confronting the other vampires.
- Strikes a demon four times before he can react, uttering a word with each blow.
- Kills seven vampires (who naturally possesses inhuman speed and strength) in a single sprint.
- Is shown in multiple afterimages of her hitting a demon standing in place.
- Surprise Stab
- Vs Gnarl
- Dodge Sword
- Avoids automatic gunfire while keeping an eye on Pike as she does it.
- Ducks under revolver fire before disarming her attackers.
- Avoids automatic gunfire from two Watchers, one of them in a helicopter.
- Dodge Darla
- Dodge Patrice
- Flee Police
- Past Twins
- Avoid Minigun
- Move Willow
Healing
- Her healing factor allows her to endure days of constant fighting and numerous injuries.
- CPR Recovery
- Fever
- Slayer's Blood
- Revived
- Arm
- Not a scratch
- Staked
- Healing
- Stabbed
Durability
- Grabs a magical spear discharging electricity and pulls it from her attacker.
- Vampire scaling
- Turok Han scaling 1 2
- Caleb Scaling
- Gets flung into a tree that breaks in half.
- Live Wire
- Live Wire 2
- Resist Gas & Steel Door
- Sedative
- Hypnosis & Slayer's Blood
- Vs the Master
- Doesn't Bruise Easy
- Spiked Drink
- Crowbar
- Planked
- KO Cordy
- Kick the Judge
- The Judge's Touch
- Sick
- Never Gets Sick
- Hit by Car
- Chloroform
- Shrugs off blows strong enough to send her flying.
- Crate
- Hypnotized & Drugged
- Stabbed
- Burning Building
- Arrow in arm
- Tank Bear
- 12k volts
- Zapped
- Beat the First Slayer
- First Mind
- First Heart
- First Spirit
- The Thrall
- Resisting the Thrall
- Sore back
- Staked
- Cattle prod
- Death is your Gift
- Counter Dogpile
- Paralysis
- Demon Poison
- Buffy Lives
- Shot
- Tank Bar
- First Blasted
- Up Scaffolding
- Shadow Man KO
- Column Slam
- Burning Love