Before Bruce died, I worried all the time about his health. I was aware that his Dad died at an early age. In fact many of his family members died prematurely. Bruce always said that he was not going to live long-when he made it past 50 we were elated and began planning for retirement. Retirement was not something he thought he would ever need to consider. But even though we were a bit relaxed and figured we had made it past 50 and we were home free, I still worried. There was always this underlying anxiety. Any medical event could rattle me and cause me to become very anxious after I dealt with the issue. When Bruce died, although I was devastated, a part of my anxiety died with him.
Yesterday, I realized that it was not gone, just dormant. My 27 year old son ended up in the Emergency Department due to a pinched nerve. I was concerned when he had symptoms radiating down his arm but even more shaken when he fainted in the ED. I realized that my worry was not over. He is fine, thankfully. But I am so traumatized by the event. Perhaps it is the worry in combination with the getting rid of Bruce's things. I am emotionally overwhelmed, tired, sad and yes-worried.