They didn’t take him off life support last week. They said they’d wait a week to see if things got better or worse.
They got worse. He’ll be gone by Friday afternoon.
He’s 60. I always just imagined him working the piñata at Theo’s parties. And rolling him burritos. And carrying him around like he’s done with all the other babies in the family, despite Theo’s gigantorness. And his laugh. He had the best laugh and I always assumed it’d be there in the not to distant future at the next family thing.
I’ll miss him calling me mija. He’d have called Theo mijo.
I don’t know what I’ll say to my little cousins when I see them at the funeral (probably on Monday.). They loved their tata so so much.
I’m so sad.gofundme
Will most likely be pulled off life support today or tomorrow.
He will not survive.
If you see it in your heart to help his 5 children juggle his finances that would be a blessing. http://www.gofundme.com/70bm98
He never held Theo. I’m barely coping.
I don’t talk a lot about Pete on here or really say our story or anything like that.
But I just got the urge.
I’ve known Pete since I was 19. We met on match.com, mainly because I wasn’t paying attention to location. Only height. We were such kids.
The original thing that attracted me to him was his height. Me being 5’10” made me self conscious constantly and him being 6’6” was comforting. I didn’t feel like a giant.
Then I heard him talk. Hubba hubba. It was like this amazing mix of Scottish and English accent, and deep. It sent chills right up my spine (since moving out here his accent has calmed down considerably—unless he’s mad and then hellllo Scottish accent). I love talking to him. It’s soothing. Especially since 90% of our dating life was spent solely talking, it’s our safe place. Comforting.
The third thing was his luck. I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone as lucky as Pete. Passport issues, resolved the day before he’s suppose to leave. Told there might be immigration issues, sails through no problem. Any job he’s ever applied for, he’s gotten. Lost his cat card, found & returned to him. I could go on and on. And I don’t want to jinx anything *knocks on wood* but other than a couple of bullshit things his mother has done, the luck like radiates. I’ve had, well, not bad luck. But not great luck either. So it also drew me to him.
He’s been with me and stuck by my side when 99.99% of men wouldn’t. Weight grain, depression, tough pregnancy. Always there. Always my rock, my strength.
His name is very fitting. Peter: rock.
Well there you have it.
In a nutshell. 7+ years. 5000 miles. One baby boy. True love.
I’ve gotten some questions about Pete. So.
He turns 6 months old tomorrow.
I just wanted to thank everyone and anyone who has donated. It says anonymous on most of them, but I just have a feeling some of my loving fitblrs are behind that grey face (being kind!).
It’s been an exhausting 7 weeks with no end in sight.
We thought he was done for good on Sunday, but he started to get better. Still sedated and in critical condition, but better from being on the precept of death. All this brings up a lot of feels about my aunts death too. Bah
He did move to be with me!
There were more opportunities out here. Plus I was in school still.
But mainly my closeness to my family vs his not with his.
Plus he fell in love with Mexican food lol
75° out in the shade. So much fun splashing!!
Can’t wait for him to start swim lessons!
Anonymous asked: How did you meet your husband/where is from??
I meet my husband on match.com of all places.
I wasn’t paying attention to that silly location description.
He’s from the English/Scottish border. We generally tell people he’s Scottish though because he doesn’t have a traditional English accent and it befuddles people.
On a brighter note. Happy, adorable, sleeping baby.
Just posted a gofundme page for my uncle on Facebook.
He’s on AHCCCS now, but before he got on it his hospital bill reached over 1 million dollars.
I can’t even think about it. None of my family can even think about being able to pay that off. And even though I want to have faith, I don’t think he will ever pull through.
What my cousin wrote:On January 18, 2014, my Dad called my sister and asked if she could bring him to Urgent Care because his “flu” was not getting better. After seeing his condition, she rushed him to the ER, where he was quickly admitted. With oxygen levels of 20%, we were told to prepare for the worst. The team of doctors (by the grace of God) were able to save his life. He was diagnosed with severe pneumonia in both lungs and Influenza, caused by the H1N1 virus. After four and a half weeks, a roller coaster of events and two hospitals later, he remains in critical condition- fighting for his life. He is currently heavily sedated, on a ventilator, using an advanced treatment called ECMO (to help re-oxygenate his blood). He is also on dialysis due to failing kidneys. As we prepare for a long journey, we continue to have hope that this courageous man will pull through, making a full recovery.
If you have never had the pleasure of meeting him, Gilbert is a humble, Godly man that has always been the “rock” to everyone around him. He is the first to show up and the last to leave in times of need. After losing my Mom to a heart attack 20 years ago, he has raised 5 children into adulthood, always putting himself last. His sacrifices truly display the amount of love he has for his family. That love has now captivated his 9 grandchildren, whom absolutely adore him.
Now it is our turn to step up and help. Although he would never ask for it, there are continuing expenses and obligations that need to be paid while my dad is in the hospital. Unable to work for the last few weeks and with months of recovery ahead, we are asking for any donations to help relieve his accumulating financial burdens. Thank you for your prayers, generosity, and for working with us in order to allow Gilbert the time needed to heal.
I don’t expect anyone to help. I know we all help each other raise money for cures etc. but this is weird. And directly effects me.
I’m mostly writing this because it’s how I deal with things. And I’m having an impossible time dealing with this. He’s 60. And he’s getting worse. I’m just.
25 1/2 weeks ago I made (welll, birthed) a thing.
Little did I know I made a thing that would grow so crazy fast it would be the size of a 1 year old at 6 months of age.
Oh. I lost my metaphor. Or whatever I was doing.
Here’s my baby. 2.5 vs. 25.5 weeks.