TheBanyanTree: Two long weeks (part three - the last)

[Wolfie]

On 23 Mar 2004 , Wolfie made this statement:

> I drove our car the rest of the way to BG. 

I went straight to my Mom's house, and my husband dropped his sister off 
at his Aunt's house.  By the time he got to my Mom's, we were ready to 
talk and blow off a little steam.  My husband called the hospital a 
couple of times, only to be told that there was "no change" in his Mom's 
condition.  We left our number at Mom's with instructions to call us if 
there was ANY change at all.  And we still got to bed quite early for us.

Both of us were awake before dawn the next morning.  I guess adrenalin 
will do that to you.  He called the hospital again, just to check, and 
was told that the nurses were just getting ready to call us.  They were 
moving my MIL to the PCU.  That is the progressive care unit.  That's 
where they take people from the ICU who are actually getting better.  
However, in our case it was just a place to put her where her family 
could be with her 24 hours a day.  ICU only lets you in two at a time, 
and for only 10 minutes out of an hour.  We were on death watch.

We left Mom's house almost immediately for HV.  We were by her side by 
7:30am.  She was barely responding.  She would move her head toward a 
voice, and if you spoke loudly enough, she might open her eyes and try to 
focus on you.  Several people came to see her during the morning.  Her 
husband and his daughter came.  He held her hand and kissed her, but he 
could not stay by her side.  This is the second wife he's watched die 
from cancer, and he just couldn't stand it.  Her sister and daughter 
came, but only for an hour.  My SIL just mentally could not handle the 
sight of her Mom on her death bed.  My MIL's sister had just gotten out 
of the hospital two days earlier herself, and was weak as a kitten.  They 
had to leave after just a short visit.  A few of my MIL's friends from HV 
came by, and one brave soul came all the way from BG to pray with her.  
We left the room so they could have private time together for their 
prayers.  When we returned, my MIL was totally non-responsive.  Her 
muscles had gone even more flaccid.  Her heart and lungs continued to 
fight the good fight, though.

My husband went to have some lunch, and I stayed by myself with her while 
he was gone.  I held her hand, and spoke to her.  I cried some.  I don't 
cry very easily, I feel it is a private thing.  People find me to be cold 
and uncaring, but that's not the case.  I just prefer to do my emoting in 
private.  I won't wail and rend my clothing in public.  When he returned 
from lunch, I was dry-eyed and calm.

During the afternoon, several more people came in.  Respiratory therapy 
gave her a couple of breathing treatments to help her breathe.  She had 
been in what we in the animal care business would call "agonal breathing" 
for the entire day; gasping and pulling hard for every breath.  We had 
them put a hydrator on her oxygen tube to keep her mouth and throat from 
drying out.  We put ointment on her lips to keep them from cracking.  She 
did not respond.  The doctor came in and told us what we knew already, 
that there was no change in her condition.  The nephrologist came in and 
told us more of what we knew already, that her kidneys had failed, and 
there was no way to revive them.  Nurses came and went, adding this bag 
to her IV, taking that one away.  Late in the afternoon, one of the 
nurses came to do the hourly check, and when she checked her pupils, 
neither pupil responded to the light.  Her eyes were getting that grey 
cast that comes with death.  The respiratory therapist came in again and 
gave her another treatment.  Shortly afterward, I noticed on the monitor 
that her heart was not beating properly, her blood pressure had dropped 
dramatically, and her respirations were getting more rapid and shallow.  
I said to my husband, "Look at the monitors... she's dying."  Shocked, he 
replied, "Right now?!"  "Yes." I said.

Just then, her husband's nephew came in to visit.  My MIL's vital signs 
stabilized at the same time.  Still low, a tenuous hold on life, but 
stable once again.  Nephew only stayed a few minutes.  He caressed her 
hand, and told her he loved her, and he left.  Immediately, her vitals 
began to drop again.  Typical of my MIL.  She didn't want to stress out 
her nephew, so waited until we were alone again to continue her passage 
to the next world.  The nurses came to the door, and asked if they should 
call her husband, who was less than 10 minutes away.  We said yes.  
Before they could make the call, her breathing stopped.  Her heart 
fluttered along valiantly for a couple of minutes, but to no avail.  She 
had passed over.  My husband was standing on one side of her, and I on 
the other, each of us holding a hand.  My husband's greatest fear was 
that he would not be able to be with her when she died.  Her fear was 
that she would be alone when she died.  Those fears were allayed - he was 
there, he comforted her, and she him.

Unfortunately for him, her body did what all newly vacant vessels do, and 
released all of its fluids in its first steps towards "dust to dust".  
How frightening it must have been for him when the fluid came gushing out 
of her mouth!  How insensitive of me not to have remembered, and warned 
him.  I've seen death, albeit animal death, numerous times, and the 
natural reactions of the body released from the grip of the soul no 
longer upset me.  It is different with a human whom you have loved and 
hugged and touched, but not that different.  At his gasp of horror, I 
quickly stepped between him and his mother, and explained what was 
happening.  He calmed quickly, and as the nurses got her cleaned up, he 
was able to return to her side.

Less than 5 minutes later, her husband and his daughter came into the 
room.  Her husband could not stay in the room.  He took one look at her, 
turned and moved out of the room with tears in his eyes.  His daughter 
(an absolutely *wonderful* woman, without whom we would not have survived 
the next week) kissed my MIL's cheek, and said goodbye.  Then she went to 
comfort her Dad.

The nurses called for a doctor to confirm her death.  We watched her die 
at 5:15pm, Wednesday, March 10, 2004.  Her body finally quit fighting at 
the 5:25pm.  The doctor confirmed her death at 5:45pm.  

Finally, after years of fighting, she is at rest.

I was going to write of our trials and tribulation during the next week 
and a half after her death, but I find that I no longer need to.

Thank you for letting me cry on your collective shoulders.

In Memory of Reta Daniels Hicks, the finest mother-in-law a woman could 
ever have dreamed of.
-- 
Wolfie
wolfljsh at insightbb.com
http://home.insightbb.com/~wolfljsh/index.html