Chantal King
My Mom Died. That's Why I'm Like This.
My name is Chantal King. I am a Vulnerabilitarian. I am the Grief Ambassador. I am the creator of Grieve Me Alone. Let me preface this story by saying: Expect typos. I have a condition called permanent grief brain.
My Mom died in November of 2019. December 2019 began the mostly-everyone-in-the-family-got-sick-as-hell spell. And it continued long into March 2020. I think I had 3-4 rounds of antibiotics or something insane like that, enough to where the doctors wrote me back up prescriptions for me to use in case of emergency.
My Mom was diagnosed with stage4 lung cancer last January 2019. After she died in November, as you would imagine, Facebook posts about her filled my feed and everyone and their mom (except for my siblings because their mom had died too) was sharing about how my Mom lost her battle to cancer. Ummm... NOPE. That's not what happened. But I was too fucking tired to correct anyone. I had other things to do, like grieve, go to the bank in a grief daze to apply for a loan large enough to cover my Mom's funeral, and be with the slew of friends and few family members that showed up at my home with food and hugs and that pitiful look in their eye that there was nothing they could do to console my grief. But, those who really knew the whole story, were the ones that actually truly showed up, and didn't just pop by for a quick hello or take a photo to upload to Facebook that would show the world that they were a supportive-whatever-the-fuck because they visited my Mom in the hospital. So that meant there were just a few of us, myself, my husband, and my aunt. We knew cancer wasn't the reason my Mom died. In fact, what reads on my Mom’s death certificate is a combination of: Acute RespiratoryFailure, Cardiac Arrest, and Septic Shock. However, there remains to be much mystery surrounding her abrupt decline.
You see, I viewed the scans with her oncologist, many times, noting what was the cancer, and then seeing the mysterious haze that perplexed the medical staff. It was thought that she had pneumonia, it was thought that she could have a fungal or bacterial infection in the lungs, it could have been an effect from Keytruda, but the only way to really know would be to have a surgery that few doctors refused because it was too risky and most likely, Mom would arrest.
To me and my father’s suspicion much later, we think it could have been COVID-19, but it was at a time that the American Public thought the virus was isolated to China and it was definitely before testing.
My mom died...Regardless. And there's really no way we can ever know now for certain what the cause truly was. At the service for my Mom, I made a remark to my Dad that I should've made us shirts beforehand that said "Don't Fucking Touch Me" to wear because Mom was a hugger, and everyone would now want to hug us. I had made shirts before for my best friend and her sister after their brother died: one "Don't Fucking Touch Me" and one "Leave Me Alone".
From that remark to a nudge, and then waking up at 3am consistently bombarded by a flood of creative thought that emerged in that shitty month, I started the Grieve Me Alone podcast, Instagram page, and merch line... clothing, totes, mugs, and then masks, and then would later resume writing.
I watched my mom die an excruciatingly painful death. My mom’s last words she spat out to me through labored breathing, and muted by the sound of the BiPap machine were “ I can’t breathe. I don’t know how much more I can do”. Then she was intubated.
I still have the pillow my Mom died on, complete with the fluids that came out of her mouth upon her last breath. My Dad is a widower, 71 years old, with 3 types of cancer (leukemia, skin and prostate) and he has decided against chemotherapy. He is immunocompromised, to say the least, and it is his worst fear to go to the hospital, because he's had several near death experiences, and he has watched too many family members and friends die in those beds, including most recently, his wife.When the pandemic was finally confirmed as being in Texas, schools were about to be let out for Spring Break.
My in-laws planned to come to town to visit, but something inside me knew that whatever was coming was more terrible than anyone else could fathom, but I expected it because my world had quite literally turned to hell. I had suggested they postpone their vacation as my fear was that their traveling would put them at risk.
Ya see, I'm a high school teacher, as is my husband, and at the start of our state taking this virus seriously, our son was a Senior at the time, at the same school we both work at. That Wednesday before spring break, the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo closed, and on our drive home, I made the decision that our family would stay home as well.
Our district did not make that decision that Thursday but came around that Friday. Thursday morning, I waited to hear from the district. No word. I sent an email to our principal and even tweeted that I was disappointed that our district had not yet made the decision to close, to prioritize our health, but I had to, being the caregiver for my father now, and being months out of losing my Mom, I would not risk my family's lives because I have witnessed our district not making the right call before when it came to inclement weather and terrible things happened as a result.
I had anticipated such a disaster coming as several of my students had fallen ill and many said they had the flu. Adjusting the lessons to digital work instead of physical work as a precaution for their health so they were not sharing supplies, as well as just in case Spring Break lasted a little longer, my students could not use that as an excuse not to complete their assignments. I never saw my students in person again from that Wednesday on.
As educators, we were asked to come in, to get our special populations binders, and my husband and I refused. We were asked to come in to clean and prepare our classrooms, and again, we refused. We were invited to greet Seniors as they drove to the school to claim their caps and gowns, and again we refused. However, we were in the line of cars to collect our own Senior's cap and gown, and we were approached by two staff members, who were well aware of our situation, and tried to speak to us through our windows. In that brief time, we witnessed staff members congregating shoulder to shoulder, huddled up, completely refusing to maintain 6 feet of distance. I love my job, and yet at a time like this, what matters more to me is not burying more of my loved ones.
As parents of a Senior, we improvised to try our best to give our son the Senior milestones we had looked forward to since he was little. We coordinated a honk and wave drive by graduation celebration stretched over the weekend, in which only a couple family members attended, and a couple friends, and then later in the evening, I crafted a makeshift living room Prom just for our household in which my son obviously was crowned Prom King. Good thing I'm a creative.
Well into the lockdown, we were invited by family to attend several events, one being the headstone reveal of one of my dear uncles who had passed December 2018. But because we have family members that do not mask up nor socially distance, we decided we would pass on the event and go to the cemetery at a later time.
I saw photos of this event, including several group photos, and no one wore masks. And it was shortly after that, I was invited to a "Pray for Patti" page via Facebook because my uncle's sister who was at that event was hospitalized because she had contracted COVID-19. I don't have knowledge to other variables that could have played a role in her catching the virus. All I know is I made the call not to go and for my Dad's sake, I am so glad I did.
I still have friends that invite me out, and I keep repeating myself, that I can't risk it. I'm pretty sure they think I'm overreacting.
I had sent a text message to several family members stating "Hey y'all, please be sure to get COVID tested and get negative results prior to visiting Dad. Dad asked me to tell everyone he hates hospitals.”
NO REPLIES. NONE.
I'm pretty certain they think I am being dramatic.
I recently received news that one of my beloved high school students passed away from COVID-19 complications. She was younger than my son. Don't tell me this virus doesn't impact children. It does. Not only can they catch it, but they can be robbed of their loved ones so easily. This virus affects EVERYONE.
The Grieve Me Alone store now includes masks, most of which read: "My ____ Died. That's Why I'm Like This."
These masks have played a major role in my coming to meet individuals who lost their loved ones to this virus.
I wear my mask for my Mom, for my Dad, for their Mom and Dad, for your Mom and Dad, for uncles, aunts, grandparents, children, spouses, friends, students, colleagues, essential workers in this country, the vulnerable, those who are immunocompromised, the loved ones of those that pass by me that I most likely will never meet. Every time I wear my mask, it is my way of saying, I don't want for anyone else to feel like I do. I don't want for anyone else to have to go to the grave to see their Mom on a holiday. I don't want for anyone else to witness their loved one suffer even on machines. It feels terrible to not be able to breathe. What a terrible way to go. I don't want that for anyone, even the people I don't really like.
I am willing to lose friends and followers and family members over this virus just like I am willing to lose friends and followers and family members over racism and homophobia and transphobia. History is being written here, and it is a terribly tragic story.
You have a part in this story. You have a part in this pandemic.
Never will I ever look at the numbers of humans lost to this virus and carry that around on my conscience. I will know without a doubt that I had taken every necessary action even albeit overly precautious to ensure I do not leave this planet with blood on my hands.
Wear a mask. The maskless are murderers.
#griefambassador #grievemealone #grieveandletgrieve #griefbewithyou #vulnerabilitarian
Follow Chantal King Grieve Me Alone @grievemealone
Listen to MakeGoodTogether’s interview with Chantal on the Grieve Me Alone podcast.