Thanks and Hello Again

[Guest guest]

It has been two months since Kjersten's death (6/3/05) and I first

wanted to thank all of you for your love and support and kind

words...some on this site, some by private e-mail and some by regular

mail.

Several of you have asked how I am doing. For a long time, I've

answered that question with a quiet " I'm OK. " Looking back, I think

I really meant " I'm not OK. " This is the first week in which I can

truthfully say, " I'm better. "

I still get caught, unexpectedly, by enormous waves of grief. A

mention of the weather in Iowa reminds me that she would have been

out there now for a wedding/family reunion and a high school

reunion. And the tears are suddenly there.

I stop at the grocery store and they have a sale on salmon and my

brain tells me to call Kjersten to tell her...or something happens at

work and I think...for a second, I think that I should tell her about

this or that...or cut this article out of the Palm Beach Post to give

her...or put this cartoon on her bedstand....

While I regret many things from my life with Kjersten, I do not

regret the times I told her " I love you. " I do not regret the times

we sat, cuddled together, watching a movie like " Bridges of Madison

County. " I do not regret the times I bought her flowers.

And I don't regret the times I encouraged her to be creative and

to " fly as high as you can. " She was previously married to a fellow

who generally tried to control her...clip her wings, if you will. I

always told her that she was free to fly as far and as high as she

could because I knew, if she really loved me, she would always come

back. And she always did.

Practical stuff: In January 2004, we were told that in addition to

her electrolytes being " out of whack " her liver enzines were not

where they should be and that it was likely she had " liver disease. "

I was rather disatisfied with the doctors she had seen over the past

several years and took her to my primary doctor. We are mainly

talking about the difference between small town doctors and, if you

will, more sophisticated, experienced doctors.

Her diagnosis in April 2004, was that she had " end-stage liver

disease. " Her doctor, McGovern, told us both that while liver

disease almost always meant a less than normal life expectancy, he

said that it wasn't exactly a death sentence. Given her age, 51 at

the time, he expected her to live for many more years. In fact, he

mentioned that he had seen people with her problems not only recover,

but, like a cat with nine lives, continue for a long time.

Although she followed all the things he asked her to do, from diet

(low protein, low sodium) to prescriptions (enulose, especially), a

year later, in March 2005, Dr. McGovern was telling me that " people

with her symptoms typically live six to nine months. "

Two and a half months later, Kjersten was dead.

I don't mean to scare anyone on the web site, but, rather, to prepare

them for what might happen. Kjersten's illness was rather benign for

quie a while and then, suddenly, progressed rapidly.

A good friend of several years once told me that I should always hope

for the best, but prepare for the worst.

Kjersten's diet for the last two years was low protein, low sodium.

The low protein part is easy (not much raw steak, I'm afraid), but

the low sodium is difficult. One of the things I found out rather

quickly is that most of the stuff labled " Lite " or " Low fat " or

something like that, was higher in sodium than the regular stuff.

Thus, " unsalted butter " has less salt than the " best " margerine.

I tried to get Kjersten into Ensure early on...but she found the

taste repulsive. As several of you have found, people in the " end

stage " have difficulty eating anything. I supspect that nothing

tastes good.

But I would encourage you to sustain weight. Kjersten was a small

person (5'2 " , 105# at best. At death, after many weeks of not

eating, she was at 85#. I would encorage you to sustain weight at

almost any cost.

Dennis

dhtaylor4@...

, Ext 1011