Oral Morphine....

Today I am packing - bedding, towels, clearing the chests of drawers, clearing cupboards. I need to get the majority of it done this weekend, ahead of my move in just over a week’s time.

I was motoring along quite well - doing it alone, of course. The house, quiet. Then I nipped up to do a clear of Tom’s cabinet in the bathroom - one I had left pretty much untouched since he died. Loads of stuff in there, most of which is good to come with me. Scored some lovely shower gel - so thought I was onto a winner there…

Then, on the top shelf, at the side, pushed/hidden behind a shampoo bottle, there it was - a small, dark glass bottle and purple syringe. I pulled it out and squinted at the label. Oral Morphine - a very strong painkiller - a prescription for Tom, dated, August 6th, 2021. I froze. He had been given this to bring home from the hospital that last time he came back - and I hadn’t known about it. He was a brave, stoic and private man - so would have taken this without sharing the depth of his pain and discomfort.

I went downstairs, to take a moment. The process of leaving this house we rented and shared has been far harder than I anticipated. But it is these little windows, like the morphine, these windows back into that terrible year, that make it so much harder.

I must dispose of the bottle, its contents and the syringe today. Another trip to the charity shop with clothes, and then, to the chemist to dispose of the drug.

What a gloomy day, too, rain, wind - the perfect setting for all this sorrow.

Hold tight, everyone xxx


Hello, yes we can be getting on & then find something that knocks us back, i too looked at the morphine & felt a stab, I went into a robotic state disposing of his clothes & personal possessions but for some reason I couldn’t get rid of the morphine, no idea why it didn’t hold good memories, so I emptied it & kept the bottle, which is madness but they do say grief is a form of madness :slightly_smiling_face:

I’ve sort of hidden it so visitors can’t see it, they wouldn’t understand as neither do I !


I know these days are hard but it’s a process we must do to step into better days. Every step we take leads us to another door to open.

As we step through each door, I’m hoping there’s more good than difficult. I’m hoping we can embrace our loved ones along the way and hold on to all that was good and shake off and leave behind the worst bits of their last days.

Keep going @Vancouver you’re doing an amazing job.


As soon as my husband went onto the syringe driver and I knew he wouldn’t be coming home, I got all his drugs together; bags and bags of fentanyl, morphine, oxycodone, end of life drugs and took them to the pharmacy. I just had to get it all out. I still have one bottle of morphine incase I get kidney stones again. For me, I didn’t want to keep anything to remind me of the pain he was in for the last 17 months, I now want to start looking at the pictures of our life before the cancer. I’ve forgotten what that was like to a certain extent.

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I know exactly what you are talking about. When my wife died, in the days immediately after I could hardly stand but I just had to get all of the medical paraphernalia out of the house.

It’s very very hard.

Best wishes.


@JerryH @Nori - I understand completely. Immediately after Tom died, I cleared all the drugs that I knew were in the house - all of them - down to the pharmacy. Later, I found a bottle of his steroid tablets that were hidden in a corner of his bedside table - out they went, too. I think the process of clearing the pills, potions and aids out of the house is a way of reasserting control over our home environment - a way of rejecting, or almost vomiting out, all the pain, horror, adaptations, suffering that swamped our lives with our loved ones and ultimately, took them from us anyway. I got rid of the morphine to a very sympathetic pharmacist.
Today - more packing, more sorting out, more clearing. Every shelf, every cupboard done is one step closer to going to my new home, and starting again, with Tom with me in my heart. Take care, my friends and many thanks always, @Ali29 x


Subconsciously that must be what I’m doing. I’ve had the abundance of equipment picked up (hospital bed etc) and just have the riser recliner chair going tomorrow. I just felt a huge urge that it all must go.


It’s kind of strange reading this thread as I lost my Jim instantly from heart attack, so there were no left behind signs, no signs he was ill, no medicine, no symptoms just nothing. He was just here and then gone so I guess I am fortunate that I only have good memories to look back over. The only memories of the day he passed away was the paramedics arriving and taking him away. However the shock even 8 mths later still exists as no pre warnings of what was about to happen. My world was normal and then it just wasn’t. There was no time to absorb anything but I am thankful that he didn’t suffer, he wouldn’t have known anything.
@vancover good luck with your move and hope there is some joy and happiness when you open and go through those new doors


I honestly don’t think there’s an easier way; I have to admit there were times on here I’d see posts from people saying it was a quick death or a short illness, and I’d feel jealous. 17 months was so hard watching someone get more ill and we rarely had moments where we could “make memories”. However, I now look back and I don’t think I would change it. It was hard but in some crazy way was special. Don’t get me wrong, I never want to go through that ever again but it’s taught me so much.


My dear @Nori - I will be thinking about you tomorrow. I know exactly about that need and found the doing of it, the evacuation of it from my home, really helpful, too x

Thank you, @Sarlyn - I need all the love and luck I can get as I winch myself out from here! I am so sorry Jim died - and without warning - what a shock. Such a change, such a rapid and wholesale change for you, with zero time to prepare. Thank goodness he didn’t suffer, my friend - although those of left behind go through it because we love them so dearly and always will. Have a good week, my friend and thank you again x