The last sixteen days seem like a dream of some kind. On September 15th, my daddy had a stroke which left him unable to speak and unable to use his right arm. He could stand sometimes, but sometimes not. On September 17th we took him to the emergency room at the VA in Denver in order to get the hospice process in place. Because he was not able to get up and down out of chair on his own and my mom couldn't help him all by herself, I began staying with them to help however I could.
It was so hard watching my sweet father try so hard to speak, but not be able to get the words to come out of his mouth. He would then just get frustrated and quit trying. He continued to eat fairly well and he did understand what we were saying to him for the most part. On Tuesday the 21st, my mom convinced me to go home and sleep and said she would not get my dad up during the night, that he could just use a urinal. I was going to stop by on my way to Bible study Wednesday morning and help get him out of bed. When I got there he was on the floor. He had tried to get out of bed and my mother could not get him back up. We got him up and dressed and in his chair and my mom insisted I go on to Bible study. I should not have listened because when I got back there he was on the floor again. She had tried to stand him up to use the urinal and he wasn't able to support himself and slumped to the floor.
From then on, I did not leave my mother alone. On Wednesday night, September 22nd, I was pushing daddy to bed. I asked him to lift his feet and he did. He even pushed the bedroom door open more for us to get through then immediately, he slumped over in his chair. He was non responsive and could not hold himself up. My mother thought he had passed and wanted us to get him in his bed. We tried, but he was so very heavy and we couldn't, so we just laid him on the floor and put a pillow underneath his head. We called hospice (which thankfully had started on Tuesday afternoon) and they sent a nurse named Bruce. The thirty minutes we were waiting for Bruce to arrive, Daddy was unresponsive and we thought that he had stopped breathing, but the minute Bruce came in the door, Daddy rolled over on his side on his own accord and began breathing normally. Bruce and Steve were then able to help sit him up and then lift him to the bed. My daddy would not leave the bed after that. Another nurse came and gave him a catheter so he would not have to worry about getting out of bed.
On Thursday his regularly scheduled hospice nurses came and after examining him told us we had hours to days, but definitely not weeks. My sister was coming in a week, and my brother in two weeks, they told us we might want to call them and let them know if they wanted to see him before he passed, they better come soon. Bruce had given us some morphine to keep Daddy comfortable and the nurses added Haladol for the time he got agitated. Right before they arrived he had been vomiting, clear black liquid. They were able to give him something to stop that. He had moments of clarity, but for the most part slept. My sister Caren had come on Thursday night to stay with us as well.
My sister Cathy arrived on Friday, and since she and Caren were both there, I gave myself permission to go home, get a shower, clean clothes and sleep in my own bed.
Daddy continued to need to be sedated with the morphine. He also did not have control of his bowels. I watched my mother loving clean him and change him over and over again with never any hesitation. She wouldn't let anyone else do it. It was here service to him in love. On Saturday, my brother Brent, his wife Anne and daughter Leanne came down and spent some time. Anne is a P.A., and she agreed with the diagnosis of the hospice nurses that Daddy's time was coming to an end. We sang some songs over him, and we read numerous chapters of Psalms to him. We kept telling him it was okay to go home, but he just didn't seem to be willing to release himself. We thought that perhaps he was hanging on until my brother Brad arrived, which he did Saturday night about 11:30 p.m. Daddy knew him, and even reached up and touched Brad's goatee. About 2:30 we all went to bed. I in the bed with mother, Caren and Mel in the guest room. Brad, Annette and Cathy on air mattresses on the floor.
On Sunday, Daddy seemed a little better. He told Brad to get Annette and when she came into the room he said "you're pretty", then he said "take care of my boy". When each child and grandchild told Daddy they loved him, he was able to say "I love you too". I said "thank you for loving me" and he said "thank you for loving me too.
Danette, Steve and Talon came on Sunday afternoon and spent some time as well. Anne thought it best if we didn't engage Daddy anymore, that it would be easier not to stimulate him and then perhaps he would "go home". In the early evening everyone left except Cathy and I. Daddy continued to sleep but his breathing was labored so hospice gave us permission to up his morphine. We went to bed about 11:00. I put an air matress in the floor in Mother and Daddy's room to be close by. Daddy's breathing was even more labored and he was moaning so we gave him 3 doses of morphine every hour. At 3:15 I gave him so haladol as he was very agitated. At 3:45I called hospice because nothing was working and he was still having alot of difficulty and started shivering and not being able to stay still. They told me to give him another dose of morphine and they would send a nurse. I woke Cathy up, as I just sensed (maybe more so hoped) that his end was near.
It was breaking all of our hearts to see Daddy so uncomfortable and having to fight so hard during his end. I didn't know what else to do, we had prayed over and over again for God to give him comfort and peace, so I just felt like he was under a Satanic attack and I demanded Satan to get out of the room, and called on the name of Jesus. Within about 10 minutes Daddy was more calm and his breathing was less labored and then the hospice nurse arrived. She took his vitals, his blood pressure was 60/40 and his pulse was 110. She told us the end was near. Mother held him even closer than she had been (she had not left his side for the past 48 hours and had laid right next to him most of that time). At 5:35 a.m, Daddy took his last breath, but not before telling my mother he loved her. What a gift.
Mother wanted some time with him, so we gave it to her. I called Steve and he came over. We waited till later to call the other family members. Caren arrived before they removed Daddy's body. Brent and Brad did not want to see him. The hospice nurse asked Mother to leave the room for just a few minutes. She removed Daddy's catheter, cleaned him up, combed his hair, covered him with a blanket, opened the windows for fresh air and sprayed something sweet smelling in the room. When we walked back in Daddy just looked so peaceful. Mother then cleaned him some more, shaved him, and put some pajamas on him. About 9:00 a.m. they came to take Daddy's body. Mother and I went into the 2nd bedroom so we would not see him removed.
Steve noted that it was 9:27 a.m. when he left the house....the date was 9/27....and Hebrews 9:27 says "man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment."
Brent and Brad arrived about 10:30 and 11:30. It was just us children and mother and we sat around and shared memories and consoled one another. It was a beautiful end to a very difficult day. I wish I understood why my dad had to suffer so at the end, it was just so hard to see. I am hoping God will show us the bigger picture someday. Right now....I am just glad he is home and not having to suffer any longer.
I am sure I will be posting more about all of this in the days to come. It just helps to write it all down to process it. Hopefully, future posts will have a more positive spirit to them.
