On Death and Dying - Part 2
At the age of 91 Dad was still living independently. Aunt Beth, lived close by and would keep an eye on him, pick him up when he fell, and take him to his medical appointments. She had become the assist in assisted living but my Dad was able to continue to live in his own apartment and he seemed happy. He spent a lot of time getting ready in the morning and was always fastidious about his appearance. He spent many of his daily hours napping or watching TV but he was happy to be doing what he wanted in his own home. We all agreed we needed to help him live on his own for as long as possible.
One Sunday morning we were all called to Florida by Beth because Dad had pneumonia and had taken a turn for the worst. He was on a CPAP machine to help him breathe. When I entered the room I knew when I saw him that he was not going to make it. I had seen enough in my nursing career to know when it was time to let someone go. My siblings and I spent the next couple of days trying to make the right decision for Dad. Three of us were ready to take the CPAP off feeling that it was what he would have wanted. Aunt Beth, however, had a harder time coming to that conclusion. She still held out hope that after a stint in a skilled nursing facility to get stronger he would return to his apartment. It was a difficult decision since my Dad could not talk or write to express his desires.
Together we made the decision to take him off the CPAP, put him in hospice and let him die in peace. It felt like the right thing to do and as soon as we did we all felt that he looked more relaxed. I love my Dad. He was a brilliant man with a great sense of humor. But I wasn’t sad about this turn of events. I had no tears to shed because to me this was a gift. I actually felt relief and joy. One of my biggest concerns about my Dad was not that he was going to die but that he was going to die in a nursing home alone after many months or years of lying in a bed inactive. That would have killed my Dad’s spirit long before his body died. I felt good about this turn of events. We could orchestrate this. We could be certain that someone was always with him, that he would not die alone, that he would die on his terms, peacefully, pain free, well cared for, with his family close by. Inside I was rejoicing. Being in the healthcare industry I have seen so much suffering and sometimes the person’s suffering is caused by the very people who love them the most. Currently at the skilled nursing facility where I work I have a lovely 93 year old woman named Edie who is still walking on her own, feeding herself and is relatively coherent. Edie’s daughters are encouraging her to go to the activities we provide and are upset that she isn’t eating more. She does what they say but when they are away Edie comes to my office and we chat. Edie tells me how she has had a good life, a happy life, good memories and she is ready to go. She wonders why she is living so long and she tells me she just wants to sleep. She doesn’t want to go to activities, she doesn’t want to eat as she doesn’t have an appetite, she is just tired and wants to sleep. “Is this such a bad thing?” she asks me.
Over the next three days and nights the four of us took turns being with Dad. Uncle Dave, Aunt Ann and Aunt Beth and Uncle Mark split up the days and I spent the nights with him. We talked a lot - well I talked and he listened. This time I was prepared for the waiting. Having gone through this with Mary K I knew this could be a few days or a few weeks and I settled in for the wait. I didn’t have the same angst and frustration with Dad because I knew he had to die in his time, not mine.
The last night I was on night duty Dad and I watched Star Wars, then I kissed him good night and went to bed. I had been up and down most of the night checking on him, doing mouth care, repositioning him and was dozing on and off when one of the med techs came in and said she thought he wasn’t breathing. Sure enough he had passed in the night some time between my ministrations. I kissed him and told him I loved him. I pray every day that I pass so peacefully.