Post Traumatic Stress

I suffer from post-traumatic stress because of the death of my son.  I am certain that my children do as well.  I'm not sure about my husband.  He keeps his grief pretty close to his chest.  He also has a much stronger faith than I which seems to help him.

Finding my son dead without warning is an image that is embedded in my brain.  I still hear the screams of my other children.  I still hear my husband saying, "Nolan, don't be dead!" over and over and over.  It has faded a bit after nearly two years, but it's there.  It:  the memory that I never wanted.

Finding out that Nolan's heart simply stopped because of a condition called Myocarditis which was caused by some random every day virus makes raising my living children filled with this big question mark, this huge stress, this worry.

My twelve-year old often complains of chest pains.  He has been to the doctor, the er, a cardiologist many times since Nolan's death.  Everything appears healthy and normal.  Of course, Nolan's heart probably appeared healthy a month before his death as well.  How can I reconcile this?  How can I try to tell my living son that he has nothing to worry about?  I don't want to turn him into a hypochondriac. 

My eleven year old daughter didn't sleep much for the first year or so after Nolan's death.  At some point, she started asking me at night if her heart was ok.  She said it hurt, it felt funny.  We also took her to the specialist for evaluations.  She seems fine as well. 

My eight-year old doesn't seem to worry at this point.  My three-year old was young enough when it happened that I don't think she was phased by everything.  Oh, she misses Nolan, but she didn't understand what was happening when she saw her mother scream and fall to the snow-covered ground. 

Part of the worry I have gives me this horrible feeling of wishing my children would hurry and grow up and move out of the house.  I will always worry about them, always.  But I get so tired and exhausted from the sight of Liam putting his heart over his chest and Ciara asking if she's going to be ok.  I understand it.  And I love them so much.  And down deep, NO, I am not ready for them to grow up and move out.  It's just the stress on top of the grief. 

This myocarditis stuff isn't as rare as you would think.  I am currently a part of a group of people who have been affected by the condition.  This group has over 800 members.  There are many times this is misdiagnosed.   The numbers are much higher than that.  I hear story after story that is like mine where someone went to check on their loved one and he/she was simply dead in bed with no warning. 

It's not fair.  It's not right.