My brother and I arrive at the hospital.
The emergency room receptionist fails to realize our rush. I have urges to punch her, dash past her into the emergency room, and cry hystericly, all at the same time. After an eternity she gives us his room number.
Kathleen is standing next to my Dad's bed looking as she has just finished crying. Duncan gives her a hug. Dad is writhing in the bed, in obvious pain. I take my place at his side, opposite of Kathleen and Duncan.
For some reason, Dad decides he needs to sit up and get out of the bed. In his drugged and morphined state he tells me to grab his arm. I humor him and take his arm, pulling slightly, hoping he will abandon the idea. He's with it enough to know, I'm makeing a lame ass effort and calls me on it. "Sara, pull harder!" he yells, "harder!"
I look around me for help, not sure what to do. He obviously can't get up, he hasn't walked in over a month, he can't even support his weight. I few days ago I watched as to firefighters made that verry assumption and dropped him on the floor. God that was aweful to watch, that scream still haunts my dreams. I wanted to fucking rip their heads off for doing that.
"HARDER" my dad screams at me, I look at the nurse helplessly, I don't want to help him up, but I don't want to say no to a dieing man.
I start to cry, which makes my Dad more mad. "Sara, why are you crying?!"
A nurse takes mercy on me and leads me from the room. She gives me a big motherly hug outside the door. "He doesn't know whats going on honey" she says, "It's the morphine, it makes them hallucenate, and say things they don't mean. My daddy died a few months ago, I know how it is. The best thing you can do is hold his hand and be there. Its going to be ok"
Friday, June 15, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
my father
It has taken me awhile to return to my post. But here it goes...
As I drove to my brother's high school, I called my sister.
I didn't want her to panic when my son was with her, so I thought about what I was going to tell her. I went into Get Things Done Mode.
"Emily, this is what I need you to do," I laid out my plan of action to her step by step.
"Get dressed, then put Devyn in the car with his backpack. I need you to take him over to mom's house. Don't rush, you have enough time. Then you need to come over to the hospital. Today is the day."
"Will I get there in enough time?" she asked, close to tears but still managing to hold it together.
"I think so, I'm on my way to pick up Duncan right now. We'll be getting to the hospital probably around the same time. Don't forget to drop off the car booster seat with Devyn, so mom can take him to Kindergarten."
Devyn was blissfully ignorant to what was going on. In his 5 year old brain he knew his grandpa was sick, and probably going to die, but didn't know what death was. It was what happened to bad guys on cartoons, and as we all know bad guys don't stay dead on cartoons. He had no idea of the chaos that was swirling around him.
Then I called my father's twin brother, my Uncle Bob.
He answered after the first ring. I remember exactly what I said to him
"Uncle Bob? It's Sara, You need to come up to (the town dad lived) today."
There was a brief silence. "Is everything OK?" he breathed.
"I think today is The Day."
"I'm leaving now."
Next I called the High School. I told the woman who answered the phone that I needed to pull my brother out of class and that I was on my way over. Immediately she was suspicious, as is her nature as a high school official.
"For what reason?" she asked.
"We have a family emergency, his father is about to die and he needs to come to the hospital immediately." I said those words so calmly, but I was shaking. I have a knack of staying calm in all sorts of emergencies, but as soon as that responsibility is off my shoulders and someone else takes over, I pretty much fall apart. I was safe for now. I had things I had to do.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
"What do we tell him when we pull him from class?" she whispered
"You don't need to tell him anything," I said, "he'll know whats going on as soon as you walk into class."
Duncan was a smart kid, really a genius. When he was a toddler, he didn't say much. We all thought he was a bit behind in the talking department. Then one day he just talked. In full sentences. Pretty much from that day on we knew there was something special about them. That and he never shut up from that day on.
I waited in the foyer of the high school.
The assistant principle escorted him from his class, and ass he approached I could see the worry on my brother's face.
"He's not dead", I blurted at him, "but we have to hurry."
The assistant principle looked uncomfortable, "let me know if you need anything Duncan"
We rushed to the hospital, while I filled Duncan in on the mornings events. When I was done, he told me he couldn't stop shaking. My dad and Duncan were like best friends, they did everything together. I'm sure in his mind he never really believed this day could come, that his dad would die.
As I drove to my brother's high school, I called my sister.
I didn't want her to panic when my son was with her, so I thought about what I was going to tell her. I went into Get Things Done Mode.
"Emily, this is what I need you to do," I laid out my plan of action to her step by step.
"Get dressed, then put Devyn in the car with his backpack. I need you to take him over to mom's house. Don't rush, you have enough time. Then you need to come over to the hospital. Today is the day."
"Will I get there in enough time?" she asked, close to tears but still managing to hold it together.
"I think so, I'm on my way to pick up Duncan right now. We'll be getting to the hospital probably around the same time. Don't forget to drop off the car booster seat with Devyn, so mom can take him to Kindergarten."
Devyn was blissfully ignorant to what was going on. In his 5 year old brain he knew his grandpa was sick, and probably going to die, but didn't know what death was. It was what happened to bad guys on cartoons, and as we all know bad guys don't stay dead on cartoons. He had no idea of the chaos that was swirling around him.
Then I called my father's twin brother, my Uncle Bob.
He answered after the first ring. I remember exactly what I said to him
"Uncle Bob? It's Sara, You need to come up to (the town dad lived) today."
There was a brief silence. "Is everything OK?" he breathed.
"I think today is The Day."
"I'm leaving now."
Next I called the High School. I told the woman who answered the phone that I needed to pull my brother out of class and that I was on my way over. Immediately she was suspicious, as is her nature as a high school official.
"For what reason?" she asked.
"We have a family emergency, his father is about to die and he needs to come to the hospital immediately." I said those words so calmly, but I was shaking. I have a knack of staying calm in all sorts of emergencies, but as soon as that responsibility is off my shoulders and someone else takes over, I pretty much fall apart. I was safe for now. I had things I had to do.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
"What do we tell him when we pull him from class?" she whispered
"You don't need to tell him anything," I said, "he'll know whats going on as soon as you walk into class."
Duncan was a smart kid, really a genius. When he was a toddler, he didn't say much. We all thought he was a bit behind in the talking department. Then one day he just talked. In full sentences. Pretty much from that day on we knew there was something special about them. That and he never shut up from that day on.
I waited in the foyer of the high school.
The assistant principle escorted him from his class, and ass he approached I could see the worry on my brother's face.
"He's not dead", I blurted at him, "but we have to hurry."
The assistant principle looked uncomfortable, "let me know if you need anything Duncan"
We rushed to the hospital, while I filled Duncan in on the mornings events. When I was done, he told me he couldn't stop shaking. My dad and Duncan were like best friends, they did everything together. I'm sure in his mind he never really believed this day could come, that his dad would die.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
My Father
Its been awhile.
A ton of things have happened since I last posted. For one, my father passed away. He died in a such a horrible way, something I would not wish on my worst enemy.
Late spring we found out that Dad had Multiple Myeloma, a cancer of the blood & marrow. We were hopeful because there seemed a good chance he could pull through and go into remission. So he started chemo. After some time passed he got a bone marrow test to see if the chemo was having any effect. I don't know if any of you have had, or know someone who had, a bone marrow draw but it is extremely painful. My poor father went through many of these to see how his cancer was progressing, and like most guys didn't complain, but I could tell by the way he looked and sat that it really bothered him. When he got his test back he found that the cancer had spread to 80% of his body. That was bad.
So he started a new round of chemo, but this time it was with a new drug, one with really promising results.
Only Dad got worse.
Sometime around mid October things went downhill quickly. He started bleeding internally from all the anti-clotting drugs he was taking for a previous blood clot in his lung. My 16 year old brother had to call 911 to get him to a hospital. The end result made Dad unable to walk from that point on. He managed to get around for awhile on his rolling desk chair, scooting with his feet or being pushed.
The 4th or so bone marrow test in early November confirmed that not only did he have Leukemia as well as Multiple Myeloma but he had about 2-4 weeks to live. By this time he was completely bed bound, a hospital bed was placed in his living room. I immediately took time off from work to be with him, as did my sister Emily. My little brother Duncan still went to High School everyday, even when he knew that he could have stayed home as well. The twins Annie and Hillary did the same with college. I think that they just wanted some normalcy in their lives and it freaked them out that dad was going to die.
People told me and Em that we were wonderful for helping our Dad out in his time of need, but I can't even imagine not doing it. He was completely reliant on us for feeding him, helping him go the bathroom, massaging him, rolling him, washing him, getting him drinks, and other odd jobs. Including the time I drove an hour away to get clementines, because he was craving them. I couldn't find any peaches though, they weren't in season yet. God, you have no idea how upset I was that I couldn't find peaches for him.
He was in immense pain. More pain than I can ever imagine. They had him on so many pain meds, Oxycontin, Diluden, and so many others. He didn't like taking them because they made him groggy and sometimes hallucinate. But near the end it was so bad, he stopped fighting it and just took him.
He was to start hospice on a Friday, because his last appointment was on a Thursday, and Hospice will not kick in until you stop all treatment. He wanted to be 'topped off' with a blood transfusion and some platelets on his last appointment, which always made him feel better. So this last appointment was very important to him, it meant possibly more time with his family.
That Thursday morning, I drove over to his house with my son to drive him to his appointment. My sister Emily informed me he had a rough night, and was breathing badly. He sounded awful. His friend Carl was also their to help us get him into the car. Carl was a big, strong guy, and I don't know what we would have done without him. Their was no way me, my sister em or my step mom Kathleen could lift him. He was pretty much dead weight at this point.
Carl got him into my car and me, Dad and Kathleen drove to the clinic, while Em stayed with my son and relaxed a little. She had slept on the couch every night next to Dad those two weeks, helping with every little detail. So when I came over, she was relieved for a bit of the 24 hour care that my Dad needed.
When we wheeled Dad into the clinic, the other chemo patients looked a bit frightened of Dad. I look back now and can see what they must of saw: A man struggling to breathe, bare chested because it was too painful for my dads arms to be moved into a shirt, with no mobility whatsoever, in a drugged state, in the last stages of an obviously deadly cancer. It must have scared the bejesus out of them. This could be their future.
The nurses immediately took notice of Dad. They hovered around dad, trying to make him comfortable, as one of them rushed out of the room to get the doctor.
When the doctor showed up, he told my dad that he couldn't get the transfusions, he was too sick. My Dad, as out of it as he was, looked visibly dejected. Then, for reasons unknown to me to this day, the Doctor bent down and looked into my dads eyes and told him that this was probably the day he was going to die. I look back at this, and ask myself why did he have to say that? That was cruel thing to say to my father. At that moment I saw my father loose all hope.
The doctor then turned to me, Kathleen and poor Carl that he needed to go to a Hospital asap. I asked if we could take him back home so he could die there, where he wanted. The Doctor advised us against it, saying he could die on the way home. An ambulance was called.
I rushed over to the High School to get my brother.
A ton of things have happened since I last posted. For one, my father passed away. He died in a such a horrible way, something I would not wish on my worst enemy.
Late spring we found out that Dad had Multiple Myeloma, a cancer of the blood & marrow. We were hopeful because there seemed a good chance he could pull through and go into remission. So he started chemo. After some time passed he got a bone marrow test to see if the chemo was having any effect. I don't know if any of you have had, or know someone who had, a bone marrow draw but it is extremely painful. My poor father went through many of these to see how his cancer was progressing, and like most guys didn't complain, but I could tell by the way he looked and sat that it really bothered him. When he got his test back he found that the cancer had spread to 80% of his body. That was bad.
So he started a new round of chemo, but this time it was with a new drug, one with really promising results.
Only Dad got worse.
Sometime around mid October things went downhill quickly. He started bleeding internally from all the anti-clotting drugs he was taking for a previous blood clot in his lung. My 16 year old brother had to call 911 to get him to a hospital. The end result made Dad unable to walk from that point on. He managed to get around for awhile on his rolling desk chair, scooting with his feet or being pushed.
The 4th or so bone marrow test in early November confirmed that not only did he have Leukemia as well as Multiple Myeloma but he had about 2-4 weeks to live. By this time he was completely bed bound, a hospital bed was placed in his living room. I immediately took time off from work to be with him, as did my sister Emily. My little brother Duncan still went to High School everyday, even when he knew that he could have stayed home as well. The twins Annie and Hillary did the same with college. I think that they just wanted some normalcy in their lives and it freaked them out that dad was going to die.
People told me and Em that we were wonderful for helping our Dad out in his time of need, but I can't even imagine not doing it. He was completely reliant on us for feeding him, helping him go the bathroom, massaging him, rolling him, washing him, getting him drinks, and other odd jobs. Including the time I drove an hour away to get clementines, because he was craving them. I couldn't find any peaches though, they weren't in season yet. God, you have no idea how upset I was that I couldn't find peaches for him.
He was in immense pain. More pain than I can ever imagine. They had him on so many pain meds, Oxycontin, Diluden, and so many others. He didn't like taking them because they made him groggy and sometimes hallucinate. But near the end it was so bad, he stopped fighting it and just took him.
He was to start hospice on a Friday, because his last appointment was on a Thursday, and Hospice will not kick in until you stop all treatment. He wanted to be 'topped off' with a blood transfusion and some platelets on his last appointment, which always made him feel better. So this last appointment was very important to him, it meant possibly more time with his family.
That Thursday morning, I drove over to his house with my son to drive him to his appointment. My sister Emily informed me he had a rough night, and was breathing badly. He sounded awful. His friend Carl was also their to help us get him into the car. Carl was a big, strong guy, and I don't know what we would have done without him. Their was no way me, my sister em or my step mom Kathleen could lift him. He was pretty much dead weight at this point.
Carl got him into my car and me, Dad and Kathleen drove to the clinic, while Em stayed with my son and relaxed a little. She had slept on the couch every night next to Dad those two weeks, helping with every little detail. So when I came over, she was relieved for a bit of the 24 hour care that my Dad needed.
When we wheeled Dad into the clinic, the other chemo patients looked a bit frightened of Dad. I look back now and can see what they must of saw: A man struggling to breathe, bare chested because it was too painful for my dads arms to be moved into a shirt, with no mobility whatsoever, in a drugged state, in the last stages of an obviously deadly cancer. It must have scared the bejesus out of them. This could be their future.
The nurses immediately took notice of Dad. They hovered around dad, trying to make him comfortable, as one of them rushed out of the room to get the doctor.
When the doctor showed up, he told my dad that he couldn't get the transfusions, he was too sick. My Dad, as out of it as he was, looked visibly dejected. Then, for reasons unknown to me to this day, the Doctor bent down and looked into my dads eyes and told him that this was probably the day he was going to die. I look back at this, and ask myself why did he have to say that? That was cruel thing to say to my father. At that moment I saw my father loose all hope.
The doctor then turned to me, Kathleen and poor Carl that he needed to go to a Hospital asap. I asked if we could take him back home so he could die there, where he wanted. The Doctor advised us against it, saying he could die on the way home. An ambulance was called.
I rushed over to the High School to get my brother.
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