Concrete in the lungs- June 3rd – Chris Ritchey
All week long, I’ve felt the grief edging upward, through my innards, heavy- like concrete- filling my lungs, tears stuck like gum in my throat and bubbling up, spilling over into the world.
I read those words from Dr. Joanne Cacciatore and I identified with those words – like concrete filling my lungs. Every mother who grieves for the loss of their child has experienced that symptom- it causes you to take shallow breathes- it is a concrete mixed to perfect portions of love- loss- hopelessness- building a monument to grief.
My lungs feel like that most of the time – the sheer weight drags on your heart , somewhere in the midriff a cold pain spreads through your limbs , invisible hands of the monster of loss squeezes your throat without mercy with murderous intent and tears choke what little air you still breathe. You die a little , but then the body fights to live -grief explodes from you in a terrible birthing act and brings you to your knees.
Chris the words you said to me that last night in your apartment –
“Mum not being able to breathe is worse than the cancer”
haunt me still.
I wish – oh how I wish many things – I wish I hadn’t listened to “dr’s to be “ Drs in training and questioned more closely Dr’s in teams– insisted upon my own family Dr. being involved ( one I trusted) . How I wish I had been able to think, to react with my gut and my brain- I was in some unreal world where I wandered not understanding – waiting – numb- unable to function -as me. I see even now the faces of nurses , their eyes trying to talk to me – I know now what they were trying to say – that my hopes and dreams for you would not happen- kindly trying to lead me to the realization – I couldn’t bring myself to understand the unspoken. I finally roused from my netherworld to fight those that surrounded you , those who took control
– but it was too late – it was the day you died- too late………..
Oh! they ended up with the safe diagnosis ( given to them initially by a slip of a girl with a two-year residency under her belt- your wife – in that emergency room at the clinic. ) Ah! the trust of one of their own….. had they not been told H1N1 by her in the first place I wonder ………. but once again too late –
H1N1 on your death certificate . I always knew in my heart of hearts that was not the cause of your death – it was the convenient diagnosis– the eenie meanie mini moe team diagnosis-. Would the probable diagnosis have changed the outcome? Probably not. Oh! life insurances and stats were compromised with the H1N1 diagnosis- Drs. may have had to “rethink” their “treatment choices” – I am sure, but you would still not be here.
I have time to research , I have had time to question, time to look at records, time to read since you died- I have talked to Drs., specialists internationally, nationally and locally – gone over records – cause and effect of drugs and treatments – explored a world I was unfamiliar with – a world I wanted no part of and did not want to revisit.
In my opinion, the cure killed you before the cancer – your lungs turned to concrete – a concrete consisting of radiation , chemo drugs, time lines and possible cures. The human guinea pig and lab rat that you became may have helped someone else but not with the convenient H1N1 diagnosis – even though they did not cure- you are down in the “stats” as a success re the latest cure for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma –
Oh! too bad he died of H1N1
NO! it wasn’t H1N1 imho – you died of Acute Pulmonary Toxicity– your lungs turned to concrete and now so do mine with the Acute Pulmonary Grief………. and there is no cure for either of us .
Entry filed under: Chris Ritchey, death, Doctors/Physicians, grief, health, hell is other people, Love, men of substance, Mothers, personal opinion. Tags: Acute Pulmonary Toxicity, Angela ritchey DO, Cancer treatment side effects, Christopher D. Ritchey, christopher ritchey lorain, death, grief, healthcare, hodgkins lymphoma, mothers and sons, obscenity of cancer.