It’s Over: Life As I Know It

For those who don’t yet know, Col, my partner, best friend and soul mate passed away in my arms 8 days ago.

My World Has Smashed Into a Trillion Pieces.

Col’s first trip to Germany.

Please do not misinterpret this to mean a suicidal thought, because it is not but, I REALLY wish that death would come and take me in my sleep and I wouldn’t have to face another day of pretending everything is going ok, and that I am “healing” and “staying strong” without my other half.

Nobody can understand what I have been through for the last 7 weeks. What started off as me making a 999 call and was initially diagnosed as back pain, then a heart attack, then a torn aorta requiring emergency surgery, to complications during surgery, to life support being switched off – which by the way doesn’t necessarily mean the patient will pass away instantly or even in a day or so. We had to fill out endless paperwork so Col would be allowed to donate his organs – in the end, he wasn’t able to as there are strict time windows to adhere to. For example, the patient should pass away within 3 hours for the kidneys to be used.

Organ donation people arriving.

It took 12.5 days – Col was young and fit, he could hold his own without a ventilator. 12.5 of the worst fucking days of being at Col’s bedside 24/7 and watching his life drain away. It was my choice to be there, my choice alone. Who would want to be in that situation? Trust me, nobody does. But for Col, I’d do it all again.  I had to make sure he was comfortable and not in any pain. I had to make sure he got the drugs he needed and at the right time. I had to make sure his throat was cleared, and his position was changed.

Col was in intensive care for almost 5 weeks. I know all about the machines, the tubes, the stats, the drugs, the nutrition, the alarms and the beeps. I know what physio he needed, how to turn him, how to remove the secretions from his throat.

I learnt about MRIs, EEGs, ECGs and CTs. I learnt about possible recoveries, and the care he might need. I would’ve taken the best care of him, given him the best life possible. Anything, I would’ve done anything but this.

‘Two Peas In A Pod’ – numerous people said it.

I’d rather be writing about how his sons and I had adapted his house (if needed). How we’d worked out plans for the future. Now there isn’t a future.

I absolutely cannot imagine life now being anything but a lie.  Col passed away on 29th April 2018, and I am already tired. Tired of being the strong one (I am not strong). Tired of trying to make a life without the one person in that life that made it worthwhile. Tired of sitting alone every night trying to convince myself that tomorrow will be better (it never is).

I truly feel that I have done all that I wish to do in this life. Now, it is just existing so that others will not miss me (even though most of them do not include me in their daily lives).

I am tired of everyone trying to convince me that I will come out of this a stronger and better person… Really? Better? I am already a good person. How can anything better come out of this?  Throughout our lives, Col and I have survived many storms – most of them he had my back and I had his (we have been great friends for almost 30 years). He is the best person.

I have had the best that life has to offer: the best friend, the absolute best partner anyone could dream of having, the best times, and 1000’s of the best memories.  What could ever compare to that?

All the plans we had for the future, in the near future and long-term were together.

The plans we had are irrelevant now. I’ve had the best and now he’s gone.

I think people keep asking you to “hold on” and “stay positive” because they need to believe that life has a purpose and even if you think you are done with this life, they would argue that there must be more for you to do and experience. There isn’t. Trust me. Yes, I might continue travelling, I might go to Romania again soon. I will continue to post stuff on this blog and photos on social media, but in all honesty, it seems pointless and mundane. I used to love doing it, the travelling, the planning, taking photos, etc, but that has gone. I might continue teaching ju jitsu, but my uke (training partner) isn’t there anymore. What’s the point? I used to love teaching the kids. Col and I started a club together in 1996, although we both taught at and trained elsewhere now. I haven’t taught for a few weeks because my head ‘isn’t there’, and I’d hate one of the children injure themselves because I wasn’t fully focused.

Cherry Blossom in York. One of the pointless photos I took today.

Why is it so hard to just accept that I know I have accomplished a lot in my life and that is enough for me.  I have shared my love and compassion to as many corners as I can, I have travelled the world and tried to make it a better place.

Trying to make the world a better place. Making regular donations to these girls in an orphanage in India.

I am not religious, I do not need ‘prayers’. There isn’t such thing as god, or any fucking gods. If there were, children wouldn’t starve, innocent people wouldn’t be needlessly killed in wars… the list is endless. If there was a god, Col would still be here, he was the kindest, helpful, genuine and caring person I have ever had the privilege to know. He would do anything for anyone, he has rescued people from fires without a second thought for himself, he’s often gone way above and beyond what other people would do. He had a heart of gold and didn’t deserve any of this.

I will not yet go out seeking the grim reaper, but I sure would welcome him if shows up at my door.