So it's been a while since my last post, (I say that every post). A lot has happened since then- my life has been forever changed and turned upside down. I feel like this post and possibly other future posts will actually be more like therapy for me, as opposed to entertainment for readers. So, read at your own risk -I'm not feeling like spreading the sunshine these days, and this post may be completely inapproriate for a blog, but I don't 'journal' so here goes. That is my disclaimer...
If you are still reading, let me just start by saying that I hope you never have to go through what I am going through/been through. I know that we will all eventually have to deal with a parent(s) passing away, I just hope it's a long way off- and they go peacefully in their sleep.
Something changes inside you when you watch someone die. Like, literally take the last breath they will ever take on earth. It is the single most painful thing that I have ever experienced. I used to feel fortunate that I had never had my heart broken, by a guy, or friend, or whatever the case may have been- I believe God was saving up for this one instead. I remember getting 'the call' from my mom- it was the call I had been dreading for 3 1/2 years- she said "Your dad is not doing well at all, you need to come here as soon as you can." I remember going into a state of shock - I left the pool, drove home and started looking into flights- there was no way I could have driven 7 hours. At this point in the game, we were still hoping for another surgery- and that just maybe he could still go to rehab. As the afternoon went on, we found out that was not going to be a possibility. He maybe had a couple of days. I just remember pacing around my apartment over and over. I couldn't focus on anything, I couldn't pack; thinking, what if he doesn't make it through the night? Do I jump in my car and drive now? I ended up taking the first flight out that next day- I remember thinking, "Wow- I am getting on a plane because my dad is about to die." It was such a hard thing to wrap my brain around. There is always that tiny glimmer of hope in the back of your mind...maybe i'll get there and he'll really be fine! Then this nightmare will be over. I guess that is why they call it hope.
As soon as I landed, my mom picked me up and we headed to the hospital. He had been at Winston-Salem Baptist Hosptial for about 2 weeks now. They moved him into ICU that same morning- he was in a back room because there was nowhere else to put him. I hate hospitals. I hate the smell, all the white, the feeling they give you. Horrible. My mom had been there everyday so she knew what to expect. I wish she would have given me a heads up. We went up to the 4th floor and entered ICU, it was a big, open area with about 8 beds, all full. I could see through to the room in the back- and that was the first time I saw him. I almost threw up. We had to put on nurse robes and gloves before we could go in and see him. There he was- in his little gown, IV's in both arms, a respirator hooked up to his mouth, brusies all over, and his wrists tied to the bed with restraints. I wanted to rip everything out and carry him away with me.
We eventually had to make the decision of when we were going to take him off life support, his wish was to not keep him alive with a machine. We knew his family would be there the next day, so we decided to wait. Once in hospice, they did everything they could to just make sure he was comfortable. The seizures had subsided so he looked a lot more peaceful and calm. His family finally arrived late afternoon (his brother, mom, and sister-in-law), we gave them some time to be with him alone. The next day we were going to take him off the ventilator, so I wanted to spend the night with him. It was just me, dad and Mr. Bear- all snuggled up. I talked to him the whole night- I don't know if he could hear me, but I like to think he could :)
The next morning we were prepared to say our final good-byes, (as prepared as one can be anyway). We said a prayer, gave him a hug and kiss and then prepared to play the waiting game. At that moment, my mom was by his bed and he opened his eyes- for the first time in almost 4 days. It was a sign- like he knew was was about to happen, and that was his final goodbye. I was sure to shove my face in his line of vision :) He survived about 6 hours on his own. I remember I got up to freshen up, wash my face, brush my teeth and when I got done my uncle had come in the room and my mom had just woken up. The three of us sat down around his bed and just watched. I knew it was time. Everything slowed down, and then just stopped. Wow. It can happen that quickly. I still can't wrap my brain around it. The phrase "Life is precious" had never been so real to me until that moment.
It's been almost 2 months now. Coping is a part of my daily life that I am trying to get accustomed to. I had no idea it would be this hard. I have found some comfort in talking about it, maybe that is why I am writing and putting all of this out there. If anyone is still reading...I hope you haven't cut your wrists yet. More fun posts to come...I promise.
Kids say the darndest things...
8 years ago
