Monday 10:30 AM : I arrived at HCMC and stopped by the coffee shop and headed up to Dad’s room on the 5 th floor. I had just left several hours ago went home for a shave and shower, then slept for an hour. Less than 3 hours later, I have battled rush hour traffic and worked my way back to his room with a hot cup of coffee. I know I am exhausted, but I am the only family member available.
Dad was admitted Thursday afternoon with bleeding on the brain. After a battery of tests, they determine that Dad needs brain surgery to relieve the increasing pressure in the brain. That is the time my Sister goes into a convulsions and collapses in the consulting room. She is admitted to the ER and then transfer to Ridgeview MC, an hour away but closer to her dialysis center. That leaves me alone with the Doctor, the Chaplain and the decision.
The Doctor explained the options. We can chose aggressive treatments which would entail brain surgery to relieve the pressure. There is a fair chance he would survive but because of where the bleed is, he would probably lose memory and the ability to understand. Or we could remove his ventilator and give him drugs to make him comfortable The decision was up to the family and they would give us a few days to decided.
Monday 10:45AM : I enter Dad’s room where his breathing sounds a bit rough but what do you expect with a tube stuck up your nose. 10 minutes later a social worker pays a visit. They would like to move him to a nursing home and ask me if I have any preferences. I express my wish to try and find a place closer to my Sister’s home. She said she would see what could be done and quickly disappears down the hall.
I settle back into a chair at the foot of Dad’s bed and watch him for a few minutes then pull out my computer and sign on to the free wifi .
Sunday 8:30 am : I visit my Sister at Ridgeview MC, but she is filled with drugs and still pretty much out of it. I sit down with my brother-in-law and I explain to him the options I have been given. I have actually made my decision and Gary agrees. He assures me that my Sister will agree. That only leaves my Brother.
Sunday 10:30am : As I head to HCMC I give my brother a call to try and explain the options. He answers the phone and appears to be VERY stoned or drunk. After a few attempts at repeating who I am, a woman names Jackie takes over the phone. She explains to me that Phil’s (my brother) Dad is in the hospital and he is in no condition to talk. I explain to her I am his brother and would like to talk with him about his Dad. Jackie starts to apologize then set the phone down. I then listen to a conversation about ‘How crunchy Cheetos are’ for 5 minutes before I hung up. I tried shortly after I got to HCMC but no one answered.
Sunday 1:30pm : I am sitting in a room full of Doctors as they try and explain to me Dad’s condition. I swear to God, there are 4 Doctors, 1 Chaplain, 1 social worker and 6 interns. There is a x-ray of Dad’s brain on the screen and each Doctor is trying to explain every detail with a small laser pointer. After the first Doctor, my mind begins to shuts down and I start staring at one of the cute interns. She is very cute. Actually, they are all cute and wearing thin scrubs . At this point, I just do not care. Finally the Chaplain ask how my Sister is and the social worker wants to know if any more of my family coming. There is an uncomfortable moment of silence as they wait for an answer.
I glance at the clock. 1:45pm. Stand up and , God help me, start to talk. “Our family has decided on pulling the ventilator and letting nature take its course. My Dad would have wanted it this way.” I choked a sob back and slowly sink back down into the chair. The social worker tells me that the rest of the family should be here for that kind of decision. The Chaplain shuffles her away and returns later to express his sympathies.
Sunday 2:30pm - The ventilator is removed and I stand next to his bed and start to cry like a baby. No family around, just me. GOD, I hope I made the right decision. It is hard to stand in a room by yourself, knowing you just signed your Dad’s life away. I was hoping for some family support.
I expected him to pass on quickly that evening. But Dad wouldn’t leave without demonstrating his stubbornness one more time.
Monday 2pm : I sit there surfing the net on the free wifi . The nurse steps in and tells me she is be going to lunch but will return at 3 pm. I nod and smile. I get up and adjust Dad’s blanket and pointlessly ask him if he is ok. Then return to my corner seat.
Monday 2:30pm : I am getting use to Dad’s labored breathing but suddenly it just stops. I looked at Dad and watch his face quickly turn white. I froze and stared at his chest. It wasn’t moving. I wait a few minutes then slowly got out of the seat and walked over to his right side moved the covers away and took hold of his arm. I could feel the heat leaving. I lean over and kissed his forehead and said “I love you” then burst into tears.
DAD WAS GONE!
After I regain my composure I step out of the room to the nurses’ station and informed the nurse. She followed me back in and expressed her sympathy and left to call the Doctor.
The next half hour was a blur. The nurse, the doctor, the social worker, the chaplain all seemed to move in and out of my vision and the room. I just stood and stared at the body that my Dad once inhabited. I would cried, I would wipe away the tears, I would nod at the condolences, I would stare at the body, I would stare out the window. During that time I called my brother-in-law, my cousin and other relatives. I was numb .
After about 30 minutes every one seem to dissolve away accept for the chaplain. He stood there quietly for a few minutes then ask if I would like to say a pray over Dad’s body. I thought about it for a few moments then said no. I really did appreciate the chaplain’s presence but I didn’t know how to express it. He was the one solid object I had to cling to as I the world I knew had dramatically change. From then on, nothing would ever be the same. Dad was gone. I just wanted to be alone and far away from there.
The chaplain slowly faded away and I was left alone in the room with my Dad’s body. I eased into a chair near the window and started crying. I struggled to regain some composure then just stared at Dad’s body. The thoughts that ran through my head I either do not remember or do not want to explain. All I can tell you that it was painful yet calming.
I had lost track of time, but the real world decided to snap me back when a gurney pushed through the curtain guided by a young intern wearing earphones attached to an ipod . Both of us were surprised. He yanked off the headsets and apologized and ask if I needed more time. I shook my head and told him to continue. He looked at me cautiously and ask if I could step out of the room. I forced a smile and didn’t move. He nodded his understanding, slipped his headsets back on and carefully transferred the body to his gurney. He tighten the straps, aimed the stretcher out the door then paused. He removed the headsets once more to expressed his condolences and asked if I needed anything. I answered with a small smile and shake of the head, he nodded his understanding, threw the privacy curtain aside and moved out of the room. I returned to staring at a now empty hospital bed.
Again time passed without awareness. Eventually the attending nurse entered the room and asked me if I was ok. I wasn’t, but I nodded a positive answer. I got up from the chair and she step to me and gave me a hug. I choked back growing tears and mumbled “Thank You”. Arm in arm, she led me out of the room and we separated in the hallway. She tells me that my Dad must have been a good father to have a son like me. I forced another smile, slipped on my sunglasses to hide my grief and started toward the elevators. It was 6pm.
The old Lion roars no more.
1924 – 2010
R.I.P. (I miss you)
