kanld (kanld) wrote,
kanld
kanld

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The saddest Valentine's Day ever

My beloved husband Paul died last night.

He had several falls at home in the last months and was taken to Villeneuve-Saint-Georges departement hospital for stitches each time. Last time the surgeon found he had a weak heart and had him transferred at Dupuytren hospital in Draveil, geriatrics service. First thing they put him to bed with bars which he couldn't stand, so he tried to get out of bed and had another fall, far more serious than the ones at home, his poor face was all black and blue. Then the service physician decided our family's doctor treatment was "unadapted"- it kept him alive and well enough for years -and decided to change it. The new treatment killed him in one week.

I visited him each day since he was transferred and stayed with him the whole afternoons. The day before (Monday) he looked a little better but yesterday he was totally absent and with some difficulties to breath. To my call they put him to bed (they insisted in keeping him bound in an armchair, while at home he was usually sleeping in his bed or coming to sit from his own will in his armchair). His blood pressure was dangerously low but still I had some hope, and was determined to ask them to send him back home in the coming days. Why didn't I ask that from the first day? Those damn hospital physicians are so sure of themselves and convincing. I know they save thousands of people, but old ones are just an annoyance, aren't they? All their exams just confirmed our family doctor's evaluation.

Paul was 95. He even couldn't watch at the Valentine's card I had made for him.

NB- thanks to LJ friends who sent me virtual gifts for Valentine's Day, I love all of you sweeties.
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