After being sick during the night, my stubborn husband Joe consented for me to call 911 the next morning.
Fire department personnel arrived first, then an ambulance soon after. The paramedics placed Joe on a gurney and started him on oxygen. As I was more concerned for him and our 6 year old child [to whom I shall henceforth refer to as T ], I didn’t feel it was safe for me to drive, so the firemen allowed us to ride in their truck and followed the ambulance.
Shortly after arriving, we were ushered into the ER. There we witnessed Joe frantically bellowing, fighting off medical staff, hospital guards, and sheriff ‘s deputies from his gurney, all while I was being questioned about his medications.
After he was successfully sedated, they called us back to the ER to authorize an endoscopic exam, which revealed Joe had suffered a rupture of an occultic ulcer. They surmised that he had lost a large enough volume of blood to account for his erratic behavior.
The wait seemed interminable. The staff paged me while we were in the cafeteria. They told us to go to the waiting room of the cardiac unit. We seemingly floated our way there. After sitting tight for about 2 hours, we were approached by the hospital chaplain. He kept T company while I went down the hall to consult with the surgeons.
It turns out Joe also had a few, but severe, blockages along major vessels leading to & from his heart. He coded on the operating table. Doctors and nurses did everything they could: Working for a solid 30 minutes just to resuscitate him, then installing a temporary pacemaker and an aortic pump.
It was down to me to make The Decision: Joe had already told me that being kept alive by machines was an unacceptable fate, so, I honored his wishes.
In ICU I stayed by Joe’s side, expressing love and appreciation for our 8 years together, telling him that it was okay for him to go; that T and I would make out alright. He shed a tear, took a few final breaths, and was gone.
I alerted the desk that he had flatlined. A couple of doctors and nurses filed in to confirm and record the time of death.
I went to find T and the chaplain. When I said: “Daddy died. His body is all that’s left behind. What made him who he was is not here anymore.”, T turned to the chaplain and earnestly asked: “Are you going to be my new daddy now?”.
The staff did an excellent job, clearing away the equipment and all vestiges of electrodes and tubing; making Joe appear to be peacefully sleeping so that T and I could say our last goodbyes.
Joe’s entire body has been donated through Anatomy Gifts Registry with no cremains to be returned. There will be no formal service, but, please, feel free to remember Joe, the good, the bad, and everything in between, however you wish!
To those who knew him only in cyberspace: Joe deeply enjoyed your exchanges and treasured your friendship!
For those of us who have known Joe in person: We truly realize what has just been unleashed upon an unsuspecting universe… So smile! š
blognawitcheese 