Personal Narrative: My Husband's Death

When the call came in from the hospital, my heart sank. "Mrs. Burns?" The woman continued without letting me answer. "Your husband is fine, but he's here at the hospital and insists on speaking to you," she said.

"Okay," I answered, wondering what on earth had happened.

"They said I'm fine," my husbands voice quivered. "I wanted you to know where I am in case I die."

Feeling ill for most of the day, my husband had left work early. While driving home, he'd broken out in a sweat. His heart raced, his stomach felt queasy, and he had chest pains. Afraid he'd had a heart attack, he drove himself to the hospital's emergency room where they immediately checked him out.

When the test results came back, my husband's heart

Finally, I understood that my husband's attacks entailed more than "being strong" and handling it. I'd felt the terror, the uncontrollable dread that engulfed him as well as his physical symptoms. Although I still felt helpless when it came to helping him, my dream made me more determined than ever to find safe treatment options, but most of all it helped my irritations and feelings of guilt.

After stumbling in my husband's shoes, my perception of his attacks changed forever reminding me to never judge anyone or what they're going through.

With an understanding heart, our night time events turned into a routine. From then on when my husband called out, I'd calmly awaken, hold my husband and reassure him all would be well, and head upstairs to make him our magical potion--a hot steamy mug of soothing catnip tea.

Eventually, a change in my husband's circumstances removed the source of unbearable stress, which thankfully ended his attacks, but if he ever needs it again, I'm sure our cats won't mind sharing their huge container of homegrown