Grief Beyond Belief
In memory of my friend Tina Jackson

When someone you love dies in your arms.....

Just for background, by November 2003 I was in dire straits... The woman I loved had told me she "couldn't spend the rest of her life with a cripple," emptied the house and bank accounts, and left me bankrupt 2 years previously. I had lost my 15 year battle with the Navy to obtain my rightful disability benefits, and I had lost my battle with the Social Security Administration to obtain my rightful disability benefits. You get the picture....

Somewhere around November 1st, I got this phone call out of the blue- it was a gal named Tina Jackson that I had grown up with in the tiny town of Northfield, Vermont. She was searching for something on the Net, and with as many pages as I have in every search engine with a robot, my name and phone number popped up on her screen. With a town population of approximately 2,000 people, everyone knew everyone- you know how it is. Plus, my mother was the School Librarian and Tina's father drove the town's school bus. With a class size of only 83, every student knew everything about every other student, and we were all friends. I had known Tina since 1st grade and we were as good friends as with any of the other students. We dated a few times just before I left for the Navy, but we weren't lovers or anything, just simply good friends. Once I hit the High Seas, we lost contact and our lives took separate paths.

During the course of our LOOOONG first phone chat, I learned that Tina had gotten multiple college degrees in a number of disciplines, and her computer programming skills overshadowed mine exponentially. For example, her last job was with Toy's 'R Us... she personally designed, programmed and implemented the computer programs still in use to manage its entire inventory. They know the exact location and amount of every toy in every store and in every warehouse and tractor-trailer truck in transit, scattered across the country... including other features like automatic inventorying and reordering, etc.... Color me impressed.

I learned that a year earlier, Tina's 85 year old mom needed to have a hip transplant, and didn't have anyone to help her thru the process. Tina quit her job to stay with her Mom, living on her savings back in Vermont. Severe complications, a major surgical screwup, and 3 hip replacement surgeries later, it was time to leave and look for a new job. On learning of each others' situations, Tina accepted my invitation to come to Florida and stay in my 3,400 sqft house, hang out, get re-acquainted, and get on with her job search using my computer equipment. She arrived just before Thanksgiving and settled in. I helped her with computer searches online, and she pitched in to help me live... like cooking and cleaning and helping me walk, and took great pleasure in teaching this old dog a few new computer tricks ;-) (Man, could that lady cook, and for the first time in 2 years, I had regular, delicious meals to eat!) However, in our computer searches for a new job for Tina, it didn't take us long to learn that during the past year, a major portion of the jobs in her particular fields had been, and were continuing to be, shipped overseas to places like India and Malaysia.

Time passed, and we settled into a routine. We spent long hours talking and renewing our friendship, which was simply a wonderful thing for for both of us. We weren't lovers, but didn't need to be- it was the greatest just hanging out together and talking for hours on end. More time passed, and we decided to put our skills together and start a new business... something crazy and wonderful, but I'll write about THAT one later. As February rolled into March, we decided to take my van and make a little road trip up to Vermont to see how her Mom was doing and get some fresh air.

We gassed up the van and hit the road in the early morning of March 15th, 2004. Tina had 2 small dogs that she loved, but decided on her own that she couldn't keep them anymore with the business plans we were about to launch. (I had 2 cats that I loved, but had to make the same hard decision....) Unlike animal shelters in Florida, the shelter in York, PA where she got them as puppies had a No Kill, Return Policy: If the day ever came when you couldn't keep an animal that you had adopted from them, you could bring them back and know for SURE that they wouldn't be killed, and a new, good home would be found for them. So, on the way to Vermont, we made a minor detour to York, PA.

We arrived in York at about 2AM on March 16th, snuck into a Wal-Mart parking lot, and slept under a big pile of blankets with the dogs piled on top keeping us extra warm. I awoke about 7AM to discover that a storm I had been watching had changed course, and was dumping BIG, wet, slushy snowflakes on us. We cleaned up, had a quick breakfast, and arrived at the animal shelter at precisely 9AM when they opened their doors. My big Florida van was never intended to drive in the weather we found ourselves in, and driving on those roads was an adventure all in itself....

When we arrived at the Shelter, Tina asked me to stay in the van. She felt that she needed to do this on her own, and I understood. I stayed in the van as the slush continued to accumulate and had a couple of smokes. In about 20 minutes, she emerged from the shelter sans dogs. As she reached for the door handle to the van, I saw her eyes suddenly grow to the size of a small saucer. She clutched at the right side of her head with both hands, and simply dropped into the slush. Despite my back injury, I bolted into action: I ran to the left side of the van, where Tina had collapsed. The only thing she could say was "headache." I lifted and belted her into the passenger seat. Her legs didn't work, and she kept saying "headache." With my previous Navy training as a Special Forces Medic, I knew this was BAD. Really BAD. I ran into the shelter and had them call 911 for am immediate ambulance. I didn't know the location of the hospital, and with the tires on my van, trying to race there myself would have been a very bad choice. With the roads the way they were, it still took 15 minutes for the ambulance to arrive from 6 miles away.

I got back into the van, held Tina's hands, and began to assess her condition. Her pupils were completely dilated, and her breathing was erratic at best. Her heart rate was over 160 beats per minute. I asked her if she understood that I had the calvary coming to help her, and she muttered a quiet "yes." I asked her if she understood that I was with her, and that I loved her, and she muttered a quieter "yes." Within 60 seconds, she simply faded out before my eyes and then stopped breathing. Her heart was still beating, so I began mouth-to-mouth to keep her oxygen going until the ambulance arrived, but in my heart, I knew she was gone. With my background, I knew I had just witnessed either a major stroke or a major brain aneurysm. For the first time since I was a teenager, I prayed with all my heart.

The ambulance team finally arrived, transferred her to a stretcher, and immediately intubated her. Off they went, with me in my van sliding all over the road right on their bumper. Momentarily, we arrived at the York Community Hospital... to whom I cannot issue enough praise. While Tina was rushed into the emergency room, a security guard made me park my van in the parking garage. As I raced into the main hospital entrance, the hospital already had a nurse assigned to me personally for the duration. She got me relatively calmed down and explained that Tina was already undergoing an emergency brain CT scan, and that I would be allowed to see her in the emergency suite set aside for her momentarily. (Frankly, I was very amazed at this... I wasn't Tina's relative, husband, fiancee, or even lover, yet I was afforded every courtesy imaginable by the Hospital personnel....) By the time I finished providing all the necessary personal information and paperwork, I was taken back to see Tina. A neurologist was already waiting for me with the CT scan up on the light box. Although he started explaining things to me, I can read films just fine- and what I was looking at can only be explained as horror in its purest form.

Tina had been living with a HUGE undiagnosed brain aneurysm where the right carotid artery connects with the Circle of William... the huge artery that circles the entire brain. Tina had suffered what is termed as an "explosive brain aneurysm," with a force that is rarely seen. The aneurysm exploded with such a force that, as the CT scan films clearly showed, her entire brain was simply turned to mush. I knew even before the Neurosurgeon explained it to me that even if he did rush her to surgery right that second, there was simply nothing left to operate on.... although her heart was still beating on its own, she was gone. She was brain dead, and there was simply nothing that could be done.

It's hard to explain, and you won't understand unless you have been in a similar situation: It was like I was running on autopilot and 2 different people at the same time. On the inside, I was simply coming unglued. On the outside, my military training had taken over and I was the consummate professional... decisions had to be made, and I had to be the one to make them. I knew that I had to be the one to inform Tina's 80+ year old parents, and her brother and sister. The hospital provided me with a private room, and placed a conference call to her parents first. As best I could, I explained everything to Tina's Father. He took the news with amazing grace, and then we had to take care of one critical piece of business: The hospital needed a Power of Attorney from Tina's family in order for me to make the required final decisions. 2 different nurses were on the lines with me, and asked Tina's Father if I should be the one to make her final decisions and arrangements. He said: "I've known Bruce for his entire life, and I know how good a friend he has been to my daughter. Even though I haven't seen him for many years, he has my complete trust, and you follow whatever decisions and instructions he gives you on behalf of my daughter." While I was thinking "Wow," the 2 nurses documented the conversation on 2 separate notepads, and this fulfilled their own legal requirements.

From our late night talks while living together, I knew that Tina and her family had no religious affiliations or particular beliefs. I knew that when the day we all face came to her, she wanted her organs donated and her remains cremated. She wanted her ashes scattered about a particularly lovely spot near her family home in the mountains of Vermont. Fortunately for me, Tina had had the notation "Organ Donor" on her driver's license which made things a LOT easier for the Hospital. (I've had my own license changed with the same notation, and I urge every one of you reading this to do the same....) Tina was kept on life support, and the Organ Donation people swooped into action. Tissue samples were taken and cross-matched, and 7 critically-ill people across the USA had their beepers go off to report to their own Doctors. While a this was going on, the Hospital put me up in a nice hotel nearby, gave me 20 mgs of Valium, and told me to get some sleep. The "harvest" wouldn't occur until the following morning, and I would be able to see Tina one last time beforehand. I walked to the hotel, and frankly, drank myself into a stupor.

At 9AM on March 17th, I arrived in Tina's room in ICU. I was given an extended period of privacy with her to say my last good-byes, and I talked to her with all my heart. When I was finished and they took her to surgery, the Hospital helped me make arrangements to have her remains cremated locally. Despite the fact that I knew better, I couldn't shake the feeling that I should have been able to do more to save her. The Navy's youngest Chief Deep Sea Diver, extensively trained in human physiology and emergency medicine, and all I could do was hold her hands and watch her die before my eyes. My only solace was (and is) that I KNOW she understood I was with her at the end and that I had help on the way. While Tina was in surgery, the Hospital provided me with a steady stream of different councillors to help me through my initial grief. (I'll be forever grateful to the York Community Hospital for doing this for me...) While talking with the last councillor, the head transplant surgeon came into the room to talk with me. He told me everything had gone well during the "harvest" and that 6 dying people would be getting a new chance at life over the next few hours. When I reminded him that he had originally told me that 7 people would be receiving organs, he gave me my last piece of horrible news: During the course of the surgery, he had discovered that Tina had terminal cancer of the liver. Whether she knew it or not, Tina had had only a few months to live herself. He questioned me extensively, but there was simply nothing I could tell him: if she knew, she had never mentioned it to me and I hadn't detected anything wrong that I could tell him about. Unfortunately, the person beeped and prepped to receive a new liver had to be told and suffer their own major-league disappointment. And, you know? York Community Hospital never asked me for a penny for everything they did for ME...

I could have left for Florida and have had Tina's ashes shipped to her parents in Vermont. However, I felt the need to bring her home to her family myself. Hard to explain, but I simply felt that I had to be the one to do it after the trust her family had put in me. The Hospital paid for another night in the hotel for me, and frankly, I drank myself into another stupor again. First thing the next morning, I picked up Tina's remains and drove another 10 hours up to Vermont. I cried the entire trip, and when I finally got there, her entire family was waiting for me. I related the entire horrible story to them all, and told them everything I could remember about all the good things she had done for me when she was living with my. To say they were grateful to me is the biggest understatement I've ever made. We cried together until we couldn't cry any more. I hadn't eaten for days by now, but after they forced me to eat a wonderful, old fashioned Yankee dinner with them, my body just sort of shut itself off... They put me in a recliner next to the fire, covered me up, and there I found myself when I awoke 2 days later.

I spent another day with Tina's parents before heading back to Florida, discussing this and that and what I should do with all of Tina's belongings awaiting my arrival back in Florida. March is still Winter in Vermont, so we placed Tina's ashes in her old room to await Spring. Once the snow had melted and the flowers had bloomed, Tina's final wishes were carried out and she is finally at rest in that beautiful little spot she loved so much.

When I arrived back in Florida, I began the task of consolidating and packing Tina's last possessions for shipment back to her family. One task was to go thru a Banker's Box of paperwork- just stuffed with everything from old car repair receipts and ancient pay stubs to birth certificates and college degrees. I sorted out the crud from the important stuff, but in the process, found a folder from a liver specialty medical firm. Tina knew she had terminal cancer, and I think she chose me to spend her last days with... I'll just never know for sure unless there IS a Heaven and I can ask her when my own time comes. As horrible as the aneurysm event was for me AND for her, it had saved her from a slow horrible death of a different kind.

I wish I could say that's the end of the story, but for me, I don't think there will ever be an end. To this day, I often awake at night to see her standing at the foot of my bed... It scared the living shit out of me when it first started happening, but I'm slowly getting used to it. I always get the feeling that there is something that she wants me to do, but I still haven't figured it out yet. Maybe one of these nights, I WILL figure it out... It's the nightmares that I wish would go away. Slow motion replays of the entire event from start to finish, always with the feeling that I should have done something differently that could have saved her... even though I know better, 'specially with MY IQ. I did the big sleeping pill routine, but that didn't work so I gave it up. Maybe one of these days, we'll both find peace.

17 July 2004
WebMaster Bruce