Trauma Center

After they took my husband’s body away in an ambulance, I remember the paramedics standing with me in my neighbor’s kitchen, as I went from screaming to crying to being calm to screaming again. They suggested I take medicine just to help me calm down, and I refused to take any medicine.

A policeman asked me questions while I stood in my neighbor’s house. My neighbors were there listening. I think I may have said too much in front of my neighbors.

I was told that I should go to the trauma center. Just to be safe.

I remember that in the ambulance ride on the way to the trauma center I was told by a woman who was monitoring my vitals that I was lucky, considering everything.

I was told that I was lucky that my husband hadn’t killed me and my children.

I was told that I was lucky he had only killed himself and left me alone, to raise a one year old and a four year old and a six year old by myself.

I was told that I was lucky he left me to work full time and to take care of a house by myself, and to raise our children by myself for the rest of my life, because at least I was not dead and my children were not dead, and my husband had not hurt us.

But he had hurt me.

The trauma center was a secure facility. I needed to hand over my belongings and show them my ID and give them my phone.

They put me in a safe room. They didn’t want me to harm myself because my husband had just killed himself and left me solely responsible for three children. They didn’t want me to harm myself because my husband had just raped me and now I couldn’t even think about that because I was thinking about his dead body hanging in our basement.

The room was white and was brightly lit and had two small beds and a chair and a sink. The paramedics had me change into a hospital gown and sit in the white room.

I sat on the edge of a bed and two women came in to ask me questions. I don’t remember what they asked me. Then the same policeman who had stood with me at my neighbor’s house reappeared to take my statement.

I told him everything I could remember. He wanted 24 hours of memories and I gave him 48. 

The policeman wrote things down on a small pad. He kept having to flip the pages. He kept having to repeat my memories back to me to make sure they were right, while I cried. 

The policeman told me his father had killed himself, and he hated this part of his job, but he could tell I was strong and I would get through this.

I tried to remember everything and I told him everything I could remember.

He said some people know how to cope with life, and some people do not know how to cope with life, and my husband could not cope with life.

I told him everything I wanted to remember and did not want to remember.

He wrote everything down on many pieces of paper in his little notepad.

The policeman said “Your husband could not cope with life. Don’t blame yourself, not even for a minute.”

Comments

  1. Two teen suicides in our circle in the past 4 years (1 was close classmate of 18 yr old son). No amount of comforting words or platitudes seem to make anything easier, but people have to try, have to say SOMEthing, to try to cope and move on.

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  2. From this barstool, eating appetizers for entres, drinking a beer I am thinking of you. Thanking you. Sending love to you and your family.

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  3. My father committed suicide when I was 10 I was the last person to see him the morning of Iwalked out to the kitchen said no embrace to him to be truthful I was disappointed it wasn’t my mother. Stay strong meditate maybe Andrew Weil has guided meditation.

    More importantly keep expressing yourself let it out don’t get over consumed by emotions by withdrawing from them it’s not healthy I am on Twitter I am following you.

    My mother was a strong person and raised two children the best she could and you emulate her strength.

    I am Acolyte on Twitter

    ReplyDelete
  4. Found you on twitter 'cuz politics. Clicked over to here. So many things I feel like saying yet knowing words only go so far. You're strong. I'll be sending healthy thoughts your way. Deep breath. I'm sorry you have to go through this.

    ReplyDelete

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