So we finally finished the next chapter in our two year war against the hospital that were negligent with our man. Two gruelling days of re-living that night we lost Trent, two days of anger, tears, frustration at remembering what the hospital did and didn’t do….. and how we all reacted to it, who saw what, where and how it affected them until now… and how we think it will affect us all long term. Woah. They don’t muck around…….. We only had to see our own lawyers handpicked psychiatrists…. I can only imagine how it would have been if the hospitals defence had chosen. Ours were tough enough. The questions come flying at you like they want you to trip up, like they want to prove you’re lying about what has gone on in your life. I only wish I was bullshitting as the words came out of my mouth…….. I have come to realise that what my little family have gone through in this time is astronomical….. and so far, we have survived, although sometimes barely. I had hit an all time low in the last few weeks, particularly in the exhaustion stakes…… but today I feel great. I feel relief, and I think, or perhaps hope that the last few weeks will not need to be re lived. I gave my girls the opportunity not to have to sit through a psychological assessment of how they felt “during that time.” But they insisted….. they hold so much anger for that hospital, that now I’m starting to worry that if we get nowhere in proving their negligence, where will they direct their anger? I have started the process of accepting the reality of it all, and want to prepare myself for such an event should it occur. At some point, although you’ll never ever agree with it, you’ve gotta accept that what has happened cannot be undone, and therefore your life will need to move forward. Without that person you loved so dearly. It’s a very hard concept to swallow to be honest. They were…….. then they weren’t. All in the blink of an eye. And whether you have someone to blame or not, in the end it is almost irrelevant. Going through in detail the events that unravelled in the three weeks from when Trenton broke his ankle to the day that he died was tough. But it reminded me how much we have suffered. A fuck load. From coming home to an empty house with his kids after the twelve hours of hope that he would make it at the Alfred Hospital, but without him in tow… to facing his clothes the next day hanging in the cupboard and strewn around the house, and his book still unfinished by the bedside table. Then realising that the worst possible thing has just occurred and now you’re expected to organise a funeral honouring his entire life…… in three days. Within the week the paperwork starts flowing, and then you discover that the life insurance that you’d always had has lapsed…. a few days of horrendous and sickening terror follows…. until you discover that his super has death insurance and you will at the very least keep the house. Over the next six months you will need to copy and have professionally certified all of his identification many times to try and stop the flow of bills, debts, memberships, junk mail and general paperwork from coming in. Even though they often still come. All these years later. Then proving that your over the counter cheap Will pack was really filled out by Trenton before he died, and that you as his wife really are the benefactor….. damn that was a shockingly difficult thing to prove. You would assume it was a no brainer….. but never assume. All those days would not have been survived if it wasn’t for the constant support from my life long mates, my newest and closest Outer Easties, my family and the local community that embraced and protected me. But I wouldn’t re live it if you gave me ten million dollars. And I wouldn’t wish it on my absolute worst enemy. Not even the surgeons that did not fulfill their job description. Here we are, still standing, although a little aged throughout the process, and it’s now time to leave it in the hands of the Gods (or should I say the Lawyers) and move forward. We have suffered enough, and I want to live now. I know for a fact that’s what I’d want for Trenton, and I know that’s what he wanted for us. I am grateful now that we talked so much that we touched on these topics many times. My second last gift to him will be to try my hardest for this to never happen again to another person at this particular hospital. My last gift will be to raise these beautiful kids that we shared, and keep them safe and hopefully even happy. Damn I will love that big old man for the rest of my life, and he’ll be forever 37 in my head, even if I live to be old and wrinkly……. What he gave us in that short ten years was a new love of the earth around us, and an appreciation for the little things in life, which ultimately are actually the most important. And he shared with me his beautiful family of which I will never lose hold of. So today I am grateful I had him at all….. and I know that everyone that knew him was better for it, and they know it. Until next time. xxxx
