Originally Posted by mystifid2

Thank you, I really have been through SO much ! The first week of symptoms, I was sharing 12 hour shifts at the hospital guarding my dad. He had become septic after a toe amputation. We had to make the decision to amputate his leg below the knee. I say "guard" because he was pulling at his iv and fighting to get up. They threatened to restrain him if a family member couldn't stay 24/7. I took shifts with my only capable sister ( the other sister is fighting breast cancer). I remember fighting to walk to his room and having to rest 2 times before reaching his room. After a week the docters gave us 2 options.
Let him die OR amputate above the knee. I stayed home for a few days because of pain and fatigue. I went to dr. and she told me I needed B 12. Well, I got b 12 and I got worse with a quickness. I finally reached out to a close friend for help. She came over immediately. I honestly thought I was dying. You may need to know that 6 years ago I had a very close friend who died in her sleep. She was in my bed so I woke up and found her dead. Since that day I have had a mind numbing fear of dying in my sleep. We practically lived the same life for 8 years. Same job, bad delegation, RA, gastric bypass and more. We lived parallel lives so I was convinced my son (who is mentally disabled) would find ME dead in my bed. Anyway, back to my rapid decline. My friend came over and took one look at me and refused to leave. In that week we went to pcp again, same answer, b 12. I wont recap the story again. I just wanted to add that while I was in the hospital, my dad was 2 floors above me dying. The family didn't want him to know I was in such bad shape. While I was in the rehab facility, my dad died.
He was my world! I only got to see him once before he died. I didn't know it was the last time. He died March 14th. He had gone home to die. He refused any more treatment. He died 1 week after going home. I had gotten clearance from docs for when hospice called the family in. They didn't get the chance. My baby sister was with him when he took his last breath. I was confined to a wheelchair, racked with pain and stuck in a facility less than 5 miles away from him. The next time I saw him was in a casket. I couldnt even get out of the car to go to the graveside. Once again, I have to stop. Too much pain in my hand and in my heart. Thanks for listening.

Helen