I had intended to write about the crappiness of turning 40 over the weekend as a widow. How much I wish Ian was here to mark this milestone, and because he's not, I had no real desire to celebrate or really mark the occasion. But have friends insisting that I do so (so compromised with a very expensive dinner for a small group of friends).
But then I could have burnt the house down on Thursday.
Thanks to widow brain.
................
Thinking ahead to my evening class and my stomach since class crosses my usual dinner time, I put a pot of soup to heat on the stove; something to tide me over.
And promptly forgot about it and headed off to my 3 hour class.
5 hours later, mid-lecture, I remember. The image of putting the pot on the stove, lighting the flame flashed through my mind, over-riding all attempts of my lecturer to impart knowledge on financial ratios on me.
And had that horrific, sinking feeling hit. The adrenalin. The sick to the stomach feeling. Very similar to the reality of Ian's illness hitting, in all honesty.
I had the regret of saying to my step-mother some 18 months ago, that at times I wished the house would burn down so I didn't have to make decisions about what to keep and what to toss.
Ian always said be careful what you wish for.
I'm so glad my Dad lives relatively close to my place, so he got a panicked phone call. He headed over to my place to check it out. I also called my security company as I have a monitored heat sensor in the kitchen, and was told that no alarms had gone off. Whew - that news lessened the stress levels a very little.
Sitting in the taxi back to my dads, where my car was parked, I quickly progress through "this is a disaster, how will I cope", to "both John and I are ok. Even if I've lost all Ian's things, we're both ok" to "well, if it's burnt down, what design will I re-build, or at the very least, insurance will pay for the interior re-paint I've been wanting to get done if there's just smoke damage".
When my dad finally called (because of course not only did he get every red light, but a freight train at the rail crossing between his and my place), I got the news that the house was very smoky, the soup had converted to carbon, and the saucepan was only good for the bin. But thankfully no flames or smoke damage; the house just needs a bit of an airing.
And I still need to paint the place myself.
I am constantly going over in my mind whether I turned off the stove or my flat iron or locked the door. I sometimes double back, half way to town, to go back and check, that familiar, horrible adrenalin feeling you described forcing me to go, to calm my brain...I never worried much about that stuff before Mike died. Now I panic, too. I'm glad it turned out ok, Kerryl. Widow brain is a strange, unexpected but undeniable symptom of our loss, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteI only cook on the stove if someone else is there. Now I only eat salad for dinner. Glad your dad was there to help. I now blame everything on widow brain.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you've found a way of adapting, but I hope you're also able to get the nutrition you need to be as well.
DeleteIt is a real problem, widow brain. It is part of a sort of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress disorder) and if you balk at that, don't. It is REAL. There are just too many things to think about and our brains kind of get on overload, almost like a computer crashing. Try to be patient with yourself, it will get better. Also talk to your physician, there may be some help available.
ReplyDeleteI completely agree on the PTSD and this was very definitely a brain overload situation - it just couldn't contain/maintain hold of one more thing. I'm seeing my counsellor this week, so will be discussing the episode with her.
DeleteI could so relate to your experience. A few weeks ago I put a pot of water on the stove. Planned to make sugar water to feed the hummingbirds. Left the kitchen light on as a reminder to check on the water. A long while later I could hear clicking sounds and after awhile it continued so I got up to investigate. Forgot about the water, the pot was empty and that was what caused the clicking. Sure shook me up as I thought at nine months I was coming out of the widow's fog. Now I stay in the kitchen when the stove is on or set an alarm to check on things.
ReplyDeleteSetting alarms are a good idea!! Glad you checked the pot in time.
DeleteSo glad I found this site, I have had this "widow brain" since my Bill passed. I thought it was just me, things that never panicked me before, now do
ReplyDelete