Beyond words, and yet words are what I have...
On Friday, October 23 at 11:30 am, my father, Galen Smith, passed away. He was complaining of weakness, dizziness and nausea the previous morning, so I called emergency services and they took him to the hospital. He'd experienced similar symptoms two months before and turned out to be experiencing atrial fibrillation and tachycardia. In that instance, they were able to stabilize him quickly and let him go home the next day.
This time, when we arrived at the emergency room, the doctor who met us said it was indeed the same issue and they were just starting the process of shocking his heart back into rhythm, for which he was sedated. The next thing I knew, there was a staff member astride him on the bed performing CPR. The got his heart beating again, but there was a lot of damage done from loss of blood to his vital organs and his brain. He was admitted to the ICU and they kept his body going through the night but by morning he was in multiple organ failure and he'd suffered several seizures. There was no possibility of him regaining consciousness. I was there with my mother and brother Damon, who lives here in town, and a dear family friend when we made the decision to make him comfortable and withdraw the life support. We held his hands and talked to him while his breaths grew shallower and then he was gone. It had been 16 hours since he had been admitted. He was 89 years old and he and my mother had been married for 65 years.
We are all in shock. My brother Peter flew down from Alaska and we've been dealing with all the stuff one needs to when something like this happens. At least, I've been dealing with all the bureaucratic stuff and making arrangements and all that, and the guys have been cleaning out the garage and going through his emails and spending time with Mom while I am busy. Mom's short-term memory has been getting more and more flaky and her version of Dad's passing bears almost no resemblance to the actual event. I am not correcting her. If she wants to believe he was sitting up and talking to her before he lay down and closed his eyes and just stopped breathing, I for one am not going to take that memory away from her.
My coping strategy is to keep busy every minute of the day taking care of business and caring for Mom. Peter's has been in taking long walks and making dinner. Damon has been doing what needs to be done including his own work, and then spending time here. Mom appreciates having them around, and I like that she gets to talk to them about the past while I take care of the messy details.
Tomorrow I talk to the funeral home and the bank and call the lawyer and financial adviser. And have lunch. One breath after another, one tick mark off the list at a time.
Memories later.
This time, when we arrived at the emergency room, the doctor who met us said it was indeed the same issue and they were just starting the process of shocking his heart back into rhythm, for which he was sedated. The next thing I knew, there was a staff member astride him on the bed performing CPR. The got his heart beating again, but there was a lot of damage done from loss of blood to his vital organs and his brain. He was admitted to the ICU and they kept his body going through the night but by morning he was in multiple organ failure and he'd suffered several seizures. There was no possibility of him regaining consciousness. I was there with my mother and brother Damon, who lives here in town, and a dear family friend when we made the decision to make him comfortable and withdraw the life support. We held his hands and talked to him while his breaths grew shallower and then he was gone. It had been 16 hours since he had been admitted. He was 89 years old and he and my mother had been married for 65 years.
We are all in shock. My brother Peter flew down from Alaska and we've been dealing with all the stuff one needs to when something like this happens. At least, I've been dealing with all the bureaucratic stuff and making arrangements and all that, and the guys have been cleaning out the garage and going through his emails and spending time with Mom while I am busy. Mom's short-term memory has been getting more and more flaky and her version of Dad's passing bears almost no resemblance to the actual event. I am not correcting her. If she wants to believe he was sitting up and talking to her before he lay down and closed his eyes and just stopped breathing, I for one am not going to take that memory away from her.
My coping strategy is to keep busy every minute of the day taking care of business and caring for Mom. Peter's has been in taking long walks and making dinner. Damon has been doing what needs to be done including his own work, and then spending time here. Mom appreciates having them around, and I like that she gets to talk to them about the past while I take care of the messy details.
Tomorrow I talk to the funeral home and the bank and call the lawyer and financial adviser. And have lunch. One breath after another, one tick mark off the list at a time.
Memories later.