once dad was extubated, he was able to croak out his misery and deep hatred of being in the hospital. he was improving, though, and they even moved him to intermediate care.
but yesterday morning, was it just yesterday? at 7:20 a.m. i got my 4th call in the past two weeks that he was about to die.
since this is the 4th time, i thought about my driving while driving. it wouldn’t do anybody any good if i sailed through a red light without noticing.
he had some kind of fluid in his lungs, they didn’t know what. they moved him back to ICU, and a very aggressive doctor wanted to put the fucking tube down his throat again, but dad refused, and mom refused, and we all refused. later, this very same ass doctor said that “if he had free rein,” the tube would be shoved down his throat again. now i think, i would like to say to the cocky bastard, have you ever had anything like that shoved down your throat? not to mention all the prodding and poking and getting blood and doing scans and turning and everything, constantly, all the time…
a very nice and good doctor told us he was going to stick a needle below dad’s ribs to get a sample of the fluid. there was something like less than a 1% chance that it would poke a hole in his lung.
they poked a hole in his lung.
the doctor re-inflated it and said it could heal in three to five days, but meanwhile they still didn’t know what was wrong anyway, and once again, the constant stream of people coming in and doing stuff, and so many of them were so loud…
meanwhile, instead of the tube, he had the BIPAP thing, the horrible sucking thing that dad also detested, to help him breathe. like having a shop vac attached to your face.
when i finally drove home last night, i thought about all the horrors poor dad has had to endure in the past two weeks. tubes shoved up many orifices, never any sleep, constant poking of needles, procedures, no peace, no rest.
i thought, i just don’t want him to have to deal with any of this any more.
so we all talked and agreed that we were gonna have them take off the damn bipap thing this morning. i felt better that we’d reached this conclusion.
they took it off about 8:30 this morning, and we’re with him 24/7 still. with just his little regular oxygen thing that he had at home, he’s breathing great, his blood pressure is good, his heart rate is good, he has sedatives so he sleeps, and nobody is bothering him anymore.
so now we just wait til he goes.
when i was napping just a minute ago for a few minutes i thought, “maybe they could take him home in an ambulance and let him die in his own bed instead of this awful place.” but i know that’s impossible at this point.
not the best week of my life.
ok then,
thursday grace.
I follow your blog and enjoy your cat and dog stories. I have also been following your dad’s tribulations and so sorry he and your family are going through this. Have you spoken to hospice about taking him home? Hope things get straightened out.
thank you so much, patty! tonight they are moving him to a better room, at least…tomorrow I will ask more questions about hospice; a palliative care nurse talked to us, and acted like hospice is the next step after moving from icu to a regular room. i actually didn’t think they’d move him to a different room this quickly.
Thoughts and Prayers to your Dad and the whole family. I know the decision was one of the hardest you have or will ever have to make but trust it was the one your Dad would want. He will be able to pass with dignaty.
sage
thank you, sage, that’s so sweet of you. well, it’s the hardest decision right now, but i guess at this point i know that there’s always the chance of other devastating things happening. one day at a time.
So glad that you and your family had the courage to say no to the Never Ending Medical Machine. You won’t regret it. (I’m not anti-medical, I just believe that death is not always an enemy requiring combat efforts.)
Enjoy these last times with him as much as you can. I know he loves you so very much. He deserves to have as much peace as possible.
Much love to you all.