It started when I woke up to find my significant other and fiance dead in our bed. Very dead, as in Rigor Mortis had set in. Calling 911, then turning him over, I saw a sight that I will never forget. He had bled out through his mouth, nose, eyes and ears. He was stiff, his lip permanently in a scowl, his arm stuck above his head. His face swollen and bruised. It is a picture that I do not wish on even my worst enemy.
Opening the door for the emergency crews, I couldn't think of anything except...He's dead. How come I didn't know he was dying laying there next to me? How could this be happening? My brain went in so many directions at once, I didn't even hear the police when they arrived. Not the sirens, not the car doors, but they were suddenly at the door.
Removing me from the room, they did a cursory look when the ambulance arrived. The EMT went into the room to check him. I was sitting on the curb outside the door, when he came back out, shook his head and drew a line across his neck...all in full view of me.
I did not realize until the police told me that it was Saturday, not Friday, the day I thought it was. I remember talking to him after I came home from Bingo Thursday. We watched Robot Chicken at midnight, then I went to sleep. He seemed his normal self. I woke up around 2or 3 in morning (don't know which day now) and going to the bathroom. It sounded like Rick was snoring as he did. Laying with his head on his arms, he always slept with his face into the pillow to give relief to his neck. I woke up again about 7 am because I was cold. Rick always kept the temperature in the room between 50-65 degrees. I covered us both with a blanket, turned down the A/C, and went back to sleep. Waking up at noon, I reach over to wake him up. He was stiff.
I don't remember much of that day. I know the detectives asked me some questions. The police are involved in any sudden, traumatic or unattended death. I couldn't tell you what they asked me. I remember calling his mom, I remember calling one couple who were our friends. I couldn't tell you much about the rest of the day, or the days prior. Everything was jumbled in my head.
I was so in shock, so hysterical, that the police insisted on making me go to the hospital to be checked out. I remember crying, shaking, getting a shot and a pill, a prescription. I don't remember how I got back to our room, but I did. I remember talking to my therapist who came and got me and took me to Sonic's to get a drink. I remember calling his doctor to let him know that my love was dead.
See, I waited until later to call his doctor. Rick had been seen at his doctor just three days prior, and the doctor accused him of abusing his medications then gave him the following: 120 Hydrocodone/acetaminophen 10/325mg, 120 Xanax, 1mg, 120 Neurontin 600 mg, and 90 Elavil..I don't know the milligrams on that one. Rick was a prescription drug addict. He took pain pills and anti-anxieties to get high. Other wise, he was healthy.
He had some seizures in the past, but those were because he combined his medications with other substances like alcohol and marijuana. He never had a seizure when he did one or the other, but when he did them together, yes he had seizures. His heart was healthy, and generally, he was in good physical shape. So, to me, the only logical thing was an overdose.
I stayed in the room that night. There was nothing indicating that I couldn't. Not from the police, not from the management. There was no written thing that said do not enter. I needed to stay there. I was still trying to wrap my mind around what had happened and what I had seen.
We were living in New Mexico, 1400 miles away from our families in Washington state. The next day, I decided to get a refund on the room (we had paid for the month), and go to where I knew his body would be going. I grabbed most of our stuff, loaded the jeep and headed home with less than $200 in my pocket. Filling our Jeep with gas, I hit the road. It was lonely, I couldn't listen to music and I cried most of the time anyway.
I stopped a couple of places to beg for money to get gas to make it all the way home. Went to an ER because I was having chest pains. Surprise, Surprise, I was suffering from anxiety. So back on the road I went. ON the way to Roswell, I had driven over the Wasatch mountains in Utah. I hate cars and heights, and I especially hate them at night. But back over them I went. Suddenly, my headlights went out. All the sudden all I could think was, crap. I hit the high beams, the head lights came on...for about 1 minute, then they too went out. Crap, hit the low beams, they came one. 1 minute later they went out again. I did this for about 10 or so minutes. I finally said Rick, If you are trying to tell me something then spit it out. Suddenly the headlights came on, and there was a sign for a rest area, 1 mile down the road. So I pulled in about 4 or so in the morning. I had been driving about 12 hours, not including the gas stops, the pee breaks or the ER visit.
I started out the next morning. Realizing I did not have enough cash to make it home, I begged again. I looked for some community resources in Salt Lake, but I kept getting lost. Finally, going to the Walmart parking lot, I made a sign and begged. A kind woman filled my tank, and gave me enough cash ($100) to make it home.
The whole time I had been traveling, when I topped for gas, I let his family know where I was and how long until I would get back there. Playing nicey nice, the kept making me feel that they were expecting me to help with planning his funeral. I had been with him the last year, with little contact with his family. Yes he called his mom that last month to help pay rent, but I was with him the whole time.
Finally making it close to where my sister lives, I called Rick's sister and let her know I was stopping there for the night. She asked me "you have a sister there? Well I have an appointment in Richland that I forgot about, so I will just meet you there." Being tired, grief struck, in shock, I didn't any attention to the fact that she was going to travel 100 miles down to where I was staying, even though she had told me she was helping her mom, who was understandably taking it hard.She also said we will meet to discuss his obituary. Little did I know their true intentions.
I talked to the detective in charge of Rick's death the next morning. She asked me why I left New Mexico. I explained that I wanted to be where Rick's body was, that I needed to be with people who could support me emotionally and have a place to live. She said she understood.
I had a warrant for my arrest because I had missed a fine payment. I had been planning on coming back to Washington that very week that he died. But now he was dead, and I was back. I was trying to get through his funeral before turning myself in. That is not how it worked out.
I had brought a bag in to my sister's house in the morning. I did this to get some of my bathroom stuff. I then went and was looking through the things I had brought back. I realized I was supposed to meet his sister, so I called and made arrangements. I did not drive the Jeep, but walked to the meeting place. I met with his sister, one of his brothers and his sister in law.
They began by telling me that they needed the title to the jeep so that they could get a loan to get Rick's body back home. Knowing that you have to prepay transportation costs, I agreed, but didn't have the title on me (or so they thought). WE made some talk of his death and I told them how sorry I was, that I was so shocked.The next thing I know, I have two police officers asking me my name, then arresting me on my warrant. They only people who knew where I was at that moment was his family. I didn't realize it at the time but they had to have called the police and had me arrested. His sister was sitting their going what is going on, like she was shocked to see them. I was too shocked from being arrested, still in shock from the sight I had seen 3 days prior, and lost in grief to realize this. It didn't even dawn on me that the name on the screen in the police car was his sister's. We never did talk about the obituary.
I gave them permission to get the jeep, told the officers it was okay. Then I went to jail. I was released the next day after seeing the judge. I got back to find they had taken everything. My tooth brush, my clothes, Rick's things, everything that was in the jeep or in the driveway, where I had left it to go meet them. My whole life with Rick, save for the one bag I had brought inside, was gone All the the memorabilia, our music, our games, our movies, gone in a flash.
When I got out the next day, and I discovered everything gone, I tried to call his sister, but just kept getting her voice mail. I still did not put two and two together. I left her messages. She finally called me back and asked me what happened and I explained to her bout the warrant. I let her know that I would be able to go to the funeral...she said okay. She asked me about how he was wearing his hair, and I told her like a Ranger (US Army). She said great she picked a good picture of him for the obituary.
I saw the obituary the next day. Yes, they picked a great picture. But as I am reading this, I discover there is no mention of me or our life together other than he was in New Mexico following his dream. Nothing. Our time together was erased from everyone's eye but mine. Hurt, I try to call her. Again just voice mail. She finally did call back, because they knew I had two disposable camera's that hadn't been developed. She demanded them back, I told her no, I was going to develop them because there were a few pictures they didn't need to see (one's that Rick took while I was sleeping, or doing my facial routine). She asked me if there was any other pictures I said no.
I had to call my prepaid card issuer because my card had been in Rick's wallet, and it had been taken by the police the day I found him. I had unemployment being deposited on it. When I went to log into my account, found it had been closed. I had direct deposit of mine and Rick's disability checks on it. I had the card first and added Rick later. His family had closed the account. I had to open a new one, and lost the money that was on the card (only $17.00, but still not the point).
Later that night, I was logging into an email account that Rick and I shared. I discovered a picture there that showed him playing guitar. I called his sister and gave her the information to be able to retrieve it. Good thing I downloaded it to my computer, because I went to log in and his family had blocked me from that too. I was starting to realize that they were not grieving with me, but were in fact trying to cut me out of everything. I still did not have my clothes, and had to borrow some from my sister. They kept saying they would get them too me. It took a week to get them back, and that is all I got back. None of personal care things, none of our movies, our video games, just my clothes and personal pictures of my family.
After that, his sister refused to take my calls. She blocked me. His brother Dave, called me to deliver my clothes, and wanted to meet and talk about Roswell. I met with him, still not telling them the condition I found his body. I still refused to give them that nightmarish sight and hurt them further. Rick and I had a cat name Ares that we left with our friends in Roswell for a while. His family informed me it was their cat now and they would go and get him. Dave asked me questions about our time, and said they would visit Roswell, and see the place we went.
I asked the funeral director to let me know when the funeral was. They never did. I was forbidden to go by the family. I found out about it after the fact. That was the ultimate hurt. I didn't get to say goodbye or be with others who loved Rick too. I was alone in my grief. Barely eating, not sleeping, I was bereft. Thoughts of wanting to join him were never far from my mind. I was not functioning at all. I kept myself busy by doing everything..yard work, house work, laundry, everything that I could to keep from thinking about it. I gave myself blisters on both hands, and feet. Anything to keep from feeling the enormous pain in my heart, the hole that was there from Rick's death.
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