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My Story -

My name is Cindy Stehr and I lost my precious dad, Ludwig Stehr on December 6, 2006. My dad was born in Lithuania on August 15, 1937 and he was the baby in a family of 7 children.  He leaves behind his wife, son, grandson, daughter-in-law, 2 sisters, 3 brothers and many nieces and nephews.  My dad was a kind, friendly, helpful gentle soul. He was liked and loved by so many people.  He was always willing to help people out.  My nephew Ethan was so incredibly loved by his "Poppa".  My dad thought he was perfect and so smart.  I loved how my dad loved him so much, the passion he had for him.  I believe my dad held on longer because of Ethan.   My dad was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma in 1999.  My dad had some odd symptoms prior to being diagnosed.  He was sent for tests upon tests and I will never forget the day I found out he had cancer.  I was on my way to work when my parents returned from the appointment.  We were under the impression that my father did not have cancer as my mother had called the office prior to the scheduled appointment and the girl that answered the phone told us the results came back negative for cancer.  However, my parents still attended the scheduled appointment which they found out the girl had given them the wrong information and in fact, he did have cancer.  That day I found out, I cried all the way to work. While I was at work I kept thinking ...this couldn't be happening, it's not true, there must be some mistake.  I kept repeating this in my head.  Not my dad, my hero.  It took a very long time for the thought of "my dad has cancer" to not be a constant in my head.  The feelings I experienced were awful, and I knew they were even worse for him.  During the next several years, my father had to receive chemo therapy and visit the hospital regularly for treatment.  He experienced nausea and fatigue and it wasn't until March 2006 that his symptoms worsened.  I went to New York City for a couple of days with a friend and upon my return; I found out that my father had to receive a blood transfusion because of the extreme weakness he was feeling. This became a regular occurrence until the September long weekend 2006, when he was brought to the Emergency room at W.O.H.C with a severe nosebleed that would not stop.  Nosebleeds are a rare symptom of multiple Myeloma.

We were told he would be there overnight for observation, which turned out to be 7 weeks.  During those 7 weeks they tried many different procedures to stop the bleeding. He lost weight, gained some confusion and memory loss.  He was released from the hospital for one week.  During this week he was happy to be home, but still suffered from extreme fatigue, weakness and nosebleeds.  He was admitted back in the hospital for 8 weeks.  During this time he received a "Plasma Exchange", which seemed to help the nosebleeds.  My poor father, how he suffered from the pain of the nosebleeds, having to be in the hospital and the severe depression, which included his mentioning how he wanted to die.  He was released on November 28th, the same day his brother in Montreal was being released after having surgery for colon cancer. The family was ecstatic.  My dad called me at work to ask me to get a hold of my mom at work and let her know.  I was so happy that day.  During the week he was at home, one of his sisters stayed at home with him during the day.  She cooked him whatever he wanted, talked to him, sat with him.  We were all beginning to think things were looking up, until the weekend when he experienced some labored breathing and a bad cough.  He was brought to W.O.H.C on Tuesday December 5th for a scheduled Oncology appointment where it was discovered that the chemo treatment was not working for him and that there was some fluid on the lungs.   The evening of December 5 we suggested to my father several times that we wanted to bring him back to the hospital, he refused and said …wait until tomorrow when he would be attending another scheduled appointment.  My mother woke me up at 5:30am the next morning to say that dad had died.  I asked her about 7-8 times, what do you mean.  She asked if I was in shock?  I ran down the stairs and saw my father and I knew he really was gone.  He looked different.  I knew it was him, but I really thought I could see that his soul had left his body.  My mom had slept in the room with him during the night as he could not make it up the stairs.  She said he woke up around 2:30 am to use the bathroom.  My brother, sister in law, nephew, cousin John, cousin Diana came over right away. We had police officers, detectives and the coroner in the house for several hours.  From that day on my life has not, nor will it ever be the same.  Family and friends came from Vancouver and Montreal to give us their support and love.  I miss him like crazy and would do anything to have him back here.  To wake up and this be just a dream, would be the greatest lottery I could ever win.

What I felt at first:

Shock, denial, sadness, scared, empty, lonely, knots in my stomach, feeling as though I couldn't breathe.

What helped:

Family, friends, counseling, journaling, talking, crying, books on grief, internet, my work being so understanding, taking one month off work, surrounding yourself with people who are in a similar situation.  I also attended Dr. Bill’s 6 week course on grief.

What I learned:

Feeling as though I couldn’t express my feelings as I didn't want to make anyone else feel uncomfortable.  People who would say they were there for me and didn't call or show up.  I understand the reasons behind some of the people but it's the so called friend who started a fight with me the day after she attended the "gathering" at my house.  Another friend, who didn't show up for the gathering and gave me a lame excuse about her son getting in a fight with her mother over a remote control.  Knowing even more so to appreciate and be grateful for the people in your life.  

What I suggest:

Talk about it, cry, journal, remember, counseling, photos, creating a memorial.  I created a website for my father.