Grief is like a rip-tide. It grabs you by surprise and pulls you under. There is no warning. Sunday was Laura and I’s 4th anniversary (of when we met). I was fine all day until about 5pm and then I just collapsed. I am still as weak as a limp lettuce today. All morning all I could do was weep.
This time last year (from Dec 24 – Jan 16) Laura was in hospital for her final 3 and a half weeks. It was the most intense period of my life. Two days after we arrived at Memorial Sloan Kettering, we were told there was no hope. Laura couldn’t go home again.
As December 24 approached this year I was nervous how I would feel. Being in England surrounded by family over Xmas helped. But my system started to crash just before New Year’s Eve (2 weeks ago). I spent a couple of days in bed with exhaustion and woke up with a start one night at 2.50am the exact time Laura died.
Dr Hal Huggins, who healed me from MS, believed the immune system works in cycles; three weeks after a trauma and the one year anniversary of that trauma (give or take a couple of weeks) are critical periods when your body experiences a sort of aftershock and you can fall sick if you don’t take care.
Three weeks to the day after Laura died I tried to get a filling done (I had neglected it for months). But when the dentist tried to numb my mouth, nothing worked. She gave me 8 shots of novocaine to no avail. In the end, she said your body is resisting treatment. It just doesn’t want anything done to it today. That’s how I feel now. I just want to rest.