April 13, 2009: Day 1

I lost my husband Michael on April 13th, 2009. He was 29 years old. He died at 7am on our bedroom floor. We were asleep with an hour left till the alarm was set to go off. He shot up in bed gasping for air holding his chest with a look of terror that I will never forget. I told him to stay put, I was calling 911. He got up and collapsed on our bedroom floor, breaking his nose as he fell. Blood everywhere. There he laid on our bedroom floor, his lifeless blue eyes staring up at me with that same look of sheer terror. I knew he was gone, but started CPR waiting for the paramedics to arrive. I will never forget the taste of his blood in my mouth, the burn of my arms, and the feeling of dread.

Once the paramedics arrived, I ran to the bathroom and became ill. I remember looking in the mirror, my face and mouth covered by his blood. Thinking to myself, this is it. My sweet Michael is gone. The paramedics began working on him and asked me to sit in the other room and write down his information. I knew that this was a distraction technique to keep me from going into full shock. I called his family, no answer. I called my family, no answer. So I called one of his best friends who lives a few minutes away.

About 20 minutes passed and they finally moved him into the ambulance. Still no heartbeat, I was not surprised. They sat in my driveway for another 20 minutes and then began the drive to the hospital. No sirens. There was no doubt in my mind that he was gone. We followed behind the ambulance to the hospital.

His family called me back, as did mine. I told them to meet me at the hospital and that he did not have a heartbeat. But I guess it just did not click, and that they had no idea that he was gone. Mike's friend and I sat in the waiting room for a few short minutes. Finally I was called back and told that they had been working on him for over 45 minutes and that even if they got a heart rate at this point, there would be far too much brain damage. They told me they would continue to work on him for as long as I needed. I told them that they could stop. What was the point? He was gone.

I went out to tell his friend, and saw that my family had arrived. I told them the bad news and we were whisked off to a "family room". Soon his family arrived as well. We went to say our final goodbyes and left the hospital. In less than 2 hours I went from sleeping in bed with my husband to sitting at my family's house a 29 year old widow.

Michael had been diagnosed with a heart condition and had been under doctors' care. However, no one had any inclination that it would take his life let alone this young.