My dad, Michael, was the oldest of six brothers. In this picture they go youngest to oldest from left to right. Dennis, Ed, Donald, Jim, Richard, Mike. This picture was taken at a family reunion circa 1975.
My eyes never saw this picture until a few days after his death on Tuesday May 16, 2006. My aunt from Wisconsin came in town for the funeral and brought any pictures she could find of him. This is the only picture I have of him with all his brothers. I absolutely cherish it now.
So what happenned? Basic rundown is this: He had a prexisiting heart condition where he had to get some vavles replaced. We knew about five years ago that he would one day need open heart surgery. He was in good health and the only side effect from this birth deffect was that he would get tired easily. But because he felt good he never felt the urgency of the surgery. Plus open heart surgery is pretty dang intimidating and scary anyways. He always went in for his yearly check-up at the cardiologist and things were going fine. Unknown to us his heart deteriorated quite significantly over the past year.
He was the hardest working man I know. Never missed a day of work even when he was dog sick but he prided himself in that. He was the maintanence manager at an apartment complex and did super heavy labor. This man was strong. I remember that last week of work that he was alive. We knew he wasn't feeling good and said he would go to the doctor after work on Thursday. That he did and the doctor said he had bronchitis. He gave him some anti-biotics and told him to stay home and take it easy till next Tuesday. He stayed home Friday and slept most of the day. Saturday morning comes and he can hardly breath and was having pains in his left shoulder. His energry was completely gone. My mom and him got ready and she took him to the emergency. I knew it must have been pretty bad if he requested himself to go to the hospital but still he didn't think he needed an ambulance.
I was getting ready that day for a friend's wedding. I was spending a lot of time in my room while they were getting ready just because it was scary to see my dad in that condition. I didn't know how to handle it. So when he was walking out the door all I said was, "Bye! I hope they fix you." They were off and I was off to do some shopping.
While out shopping my mom called and told me they thought he had a bad case of pneumonia. Because of his heart condition they were taking him to the heart center because they thought they could better care for him there. I told her I'd come home right away and knew that my friend would be understanding of why I wasn't at her wedding. When I pulled in the driveway she just pulled in to. I remember her getting out of the car and having the most worried look on her face and on the verge of tears. "He doesn't look good, babe." This was a moment of shock to me. I knew he was sick but didn't know it was this serious. We woke up my brother, Tyler, and all headed downtown to the hospital.
We find his room and all head in together. There were a ton of doctors and nurses around and so much hustle and bustle going on. He had a mask over his face to help him with his breathing. I remember my mom coming up to him and saying how we were all here now and that she loved him. I then came up and said, "I love you, Dad" and he lifted his hand and grabbed mine and said "I love you" with short breaths of air inbetween each word. I know just lifting his hand must have taken every ounce of energry. My brother then came behind me and said "I love you" and my dad responded the same and took his hand. While we were standing there a doctor was explaning everything they were doing and explaining tests they were about to do. After they were done with those tests we could come back in the room. That was the last time I ever talked to my dad.
By the time we came back in the room he was on a ventilator and sedated. I'm so thankful that I got to hear those few important words from him but I would have killed to be able to talk to him. My dad was a talker. He was non-stop and you had to pry him away from people. My mom, brother and I would all be ready to go home and maybe even sitting in the car waiting for him to finish up conversations. It killed us all that we never got to talk to him the whole time in the hospital. We didn't know what was coming. We didn't know this was it. I just have to hold on that I did hear those few words. I didn't say it everyday to him and he didn't say it in everyday life to me so it was a present from God for those to be the last words to grace my ears from him.
Over the course of four days he just kept getting worse. His heart rate was so high [140s-160s bpm] and his blood pressure so low. Can you imagine your heart beating at 160bpm for four days straight? I don't know how his body took that. He is the strongest man I ever knew. I don't know how he worked the whole last week. I don't know how he took so long to go to the doctor.
I was really thankful for the doctors and the nurses at the heart center. They were so straight up with us. By 11am on Saturday he was at the heart center and by about 1pm we had a doctor come out to us and tell us he might not make it through this. Yeah, those are tough words to hear but it started preparing our hearts for the decision we would have to make. Sunday the same cardiologist told us that we should maybe start thinking about the decision to take him off life support. Whoa. Everyday was a reality check as to how serious this was. Monday the same doctor told us we should make a decision by that night or Tuesday morning. I remember that conversation he was having with me and my mom. I walked out of the room in complete shock as to how real and close this was. It was shocking just because of how fast it all happenned. As we were walking out of there arm and arm a different group of about three doctors and one nurse chased us down the hallway. They said despite of what the cardiologist just told us they thought there was a lot more they could do and not to give up hope yet. They said if it was their loved one they wouldn't feel comfortable with making a decision at this point in time because they knew there was more that could be done. They gave us a glimmer of hope and we ran for it.
During that day it seemed as though things were looking up. His blood pressure raised some and was more stable. His heart rate came down to the 120s. We were hopeful. They started him on a continual dialysis machine and that was bring his temperature down. We were heading home for the night and talking to the nurse. She laid it all down. She told us how the numbers were looking good but he wasn't really making any change for the good. The numbers were decieving. After that conversation I think we all knew this was it. My mom had given them her cell phone number but I gave them mine for the first time that Monday night.
By 5am Tuesday morning I heart my mom's phone ring. She must not have heard it and slept through. Then right by my ear my phone rang. I was so scared to answer it and didn't. My mom awoke and called the room and they told her he took a turn for the worse and we should come down there. We all jumped out of bed and got down there as fast as we could. We called my aunt and uncle [who were there with us all day everyday in the hospital], the pastor, and cousins and they all came down.
Things were real bad. There was just no way he was going to make it unless God came down from heaven and breathed on him. We prayed with our pastor as family at his bedside. We prayed out in the waiting room altogether. We called his five other brothers to get their input. The decision came easy. It wasn't a hard one to make and we knew it was right because of the peace God gave us in making it. He lived in pain everyday [fibromyalgia] and was so tired and worked so hard his whole life. Even if he did make it through his quality of life would have been much lower. He was so active and strong and I couldn't imagine him any other way. His mouth was never shut and I couldn't imagine him not being able to talk. He wouldn't want to live if that was the case. His heart was so bad he would need a heart transplant eventually and I don't think he would want to go through all of that. He would never want a machine keeping him alive. We all knew that for sure.
So around 9:30am they took him off the ventilator. He was gone instantly. I do believe his spirit was gone way before we knew it in the hospital. His time on this earth was done and the machines were just keeping his body alive. We were so at peace with it all.
Those four days in the hospital were the most hellish days I've ever experienced on this earth. It was so hard to see your dad, the strongest man you know, having tubes down his throat and a machine pumping his chest with air. He had so many tubes and contraptions hooked up to him and his body was fighting so hard. It was hard for my brother and I to go into his room at first. The hardest thing to see his body fighting so hard. Then by the end of Sunday and Monday all we wanted to do was be in that room with him. We talked to him continually on Monday. They said he can probably hear us but he just might not remember. One of the medicines he was on those had an amnesia type effect so he wouldn't remember all the trauma he was going through. So we were always whispering in his ear that we were here at all times and just down the hallway. We whispered in his ear that if it was his time to go just to let go. He had raised us well and we knew we would be fine and able to take care of ourselves.
Before I said I would have killed to talk to him in the hospital. To make that a bit more clear we talked to him so much in the hospital just never heard back from him. It helped us though in the whole process to be able to voice what we were feeling to him even though he couldn't communicate back. Once in a while his sedation would start to wear off and that was scary. He would wake up and not know what was going on and starting to pull and yank on the tubes in his mouth and all the things in his arms. In the middle of one night he woke up and the nurse asked him if he knew where he was and that he was in the hospital and he shook his head no. I'm glad he didn't have to be aware of all that was going on. He was also on Ativan which is an anxiety medicine.
I really haven't asked many questions through all of this. The only question I ask is, "Why did his body have to go through all of this?" I hated seeing that rough fight. A fight for life. Him gasping for air. I'm so much more aware of my breathing after this whole situation. I praise God for every single breath I take. Its so precious and my source of life. He was gasping for life.
Other than that I don't ask questions. Whatever will be, will be. He is gone. I miss him but I don't wish him back or wish for things differently. Things happen the way they do for a reason. He was taken fast but I'm thankful for those four days in the hospital, no matter how hellish they were, to prepare our hearts for his death.
For a while I had a really hard time dealing with what death looked like. Once we walked into the room after they had taken him off the ventilator he was already turning a darkish pupleish color and his eyes were slightly open. Its morbid but something I need to personally face to get over it. Death is nasty and ugly. Its nothing to be glorified. Its sad and tragic beause its a result of sin in this life. Sin is nasty and ugly. The wages of sin is death. But we have the hope of Jesus Christ. Jesus went through an awful death and died for us and saved us. But still as earthly, sinful, human beings we need to go through this part of life. Death is a part of life hence the name of this blog.
I don't know how people handle death without God. I can't imagine what a mind trip it is to bury a loved one and think they still reside in that body that is now under the ground. How tragic! Thank you God for your hope.
Life is fragile and quick. My dad was 58 when he died. I don't think his life was cut short or taken too early. This is in God's plan and God's plan is perfect. My dad lived a very full life. He touched so many people. I'm thankful for the twenty two years I got to spend with him. Yeah, I wish it was more. Yes, I wish he could have walked me down the aisle. Yes, I wish he could see his grandkids. His death has turned our lives upside down. I can only speak for myself but mine has been turned upside down for the good. I know I can't live without my Lord. I've grasped onto him in all of this and I'm never letting go. He called us to take care of the earth and his people and I know thats what I have to do now. Its time to step up and work my fingers to the bone for the short time I'm on this earth. Thank you Lord for drawing me close when I so could have easily turned the other way and become bitter and hateful towards you. Thank you for your love and letting me be aware of it. I'm ready to show it to others.
