These things change us

[just pet]

I never agreed with the perspective of this thread because I do not fear death.
There are others who could use a good read.

This thread was never about fearing death. It is about the changes we go through as we experience life. Hospice is about relieving suffering and is healing for those who fear death, those who accept it and those who welcome it.

If nothing has affected you deeply in life, if nothing has changed you, that is sad indeed.

 

[just pet]

Always loved this thread.



It hit closer to home because for over 1 1/2 years I've been dealing with an ailing parent. He was subsequently put into hospice care (through the home) and I wound up doing the majority of caretaking. It's very emotional and difficult.

A most trying situation indeed. I do hope you are doing well.

 

[DaddysAngel23]

Different/ the Same

I see where this is going, though my story takes me another direction.
I have watched the death, fast and slow, of those I love. In this moment I choose life.

My brother was born with SEVERE mental and physical disabilities, not the least of which is Scoliosis so severe it forced his ribs through his lung. His mind, the mind of my only, older, brother, never developed past the mentality of a toddler. You cannot imagine much worse than the reality. It tore apart my family it was so hard to deal with, so hard to watch.

they were told he would not live at day, then a week, then a year. Every few months they would push it back. Two years, four, he will not make it to five years old. He is Twenty Nine years old. He lives still in a children's home for those who are 'mortally disabled', a long term hospice, and he can speak only ten words, though he has learned some sign language.

All my life, all of HIS life we have had only one question, not when, but WHY??
What happened, why did this happen to us, to him? We have ideas, we have theories, we have every best guess, from every specialist on the west coast, and many on the east.

So here I am, not mourning, always hurting, but happy. Because he is happy. This thirty year long moment changed us all. He is the happiest person you will ever meet, no kidding, and he is in more pain than most of us will ever know.

John taught me strength, and taught me to love what I have while I have it. He showed me that really, my life is not so bad as I sometimes think.
So not the same as your OP but the same if you have been there, I think you have.
My prayers for you, and those with the strength to hold up my family, all our families, until you can grieve in private for what you see. Thank you.

 

[just pet]

Very powerful, DaddysAngel. Thank you for sharing this.
It is exactly what this thread is about.

There is no why is there...

 

[DaddysAngel23]

Very powerful, DaddysAngel. Thank you for sharing this.
It is exactly what this thread is about.

There is no why is there...

No why, but other answers, un-looked for perhaps. You know what I mean.

Once again, thank you, and all those I can not thank personally.

 

[Byron In Exile]

I see where this is going, though my story takes me another direction.
I have watched the death, fast and slow, of those I love. In this moment I choose life.

My brother was born with SEVERE mental and physical disabilities, not the least of which is Scoliosis so severe it forced his ribs through his lung. His mind, the mind of my only, older, brother, never developed past the mentality of a toddler. You cannot imagine much worse than the reality. It tore apart my family it was so hard to deal with, so hard to watch.

they were told he would not live at day, then a week, then a year. Every few months they would push it back. Two years, four, he will not make it to five years old. He is Twenty Nine years old. He lives still in a children's home for those who are 'mortally disabled', a long term hospice, and he can speak only ten words, though he has learned some sign language.

All my life, all of HIS life we have had only one question, not when, but WHY??
What happened, why did this happen to us, to him? We have ideas, we have theories, we have every best guess, from every specialist on the west coast, and many on the east.

So here I am, not mourning, always hurting, but happy. Because he is happy. This thirty year long moment changed us all. He is the happiest person you will ever meet, no kidding, and he is in more pain than most of us will ever know.

John taught me strength, and taught me to love what I have while I have it. He showed me that really, my life is not so bad as I sometimes think.
So not the same as your OP but the same if you have been there, I think you have.
My prayers for you, and those with the strength to hold up my family, all our families, until you can grieve in private for what you see. Thank you.

 

[richard_daily]

My dog is currently on his death bed. He's elderly and has been in poor health for the past few months.

I got him about 3 or 4 years ago as a rescue. He peed on a floor a few times, but he made up for it by getting me laid a few times (he is a lady magnet).

He's got short little legs and is loved by just about anyone who's ever met him. He's mild mannered and loves food, so when he started to lose his appetite, I grew a little worried.

I took him to do things like get his anal glands cleaned... something that I would have never thought I would ever be participating in (although to be fair, I just helped hold him, so I didn't exactly "participate", thankfully).

He's got a bullet in his leg, which I discovered when I took him to the vet one time when he was having trouble peeing. We discovered kidney stones, and a what looks like a .22 stuck in his flank.

Whoever would shoot a little creature like this is a sick fuck, and I hope that there is karma or something in the world to repay them.

It's going to be the hardest thing to start referring to him in the past tense, and I'm making my peace with the process.

It's not the first time I've helped care for someone through death, and I'm sure it won't be the last, but he's been my responsibility and my responsibility alone for the last few years... and I've enjoyed his company immensely.

 

[just pet]

Richard, I just found this
I am so sorry
Those little loving spirits are so amazing

 

[just pet]

John was 61, in excellent health. A vibrant, brilliant high power attorney. Two and a half weeks ago, he was having balance problems, and at times, seeing double or vision was blurred. He went to see his MD. His history showed removal of a melanoma (skin cancer) 7 years ago with no recurrence. There were no other outward signs.

His doctor immediately put him in the hospital, and as John was going into surgery he was still on the phone with his law partner tying up loose ends.

The craniotomy showed massive metastases through the brain. No treatments available.

His doctor called me to offer hospice to the patient and family. The first time I meet John he is sleepy and extremely weak but is able to interact. A day later he has slipped into a coma. I spent a couple of hours with his wife and daughter and he was placed on General Inpatient level of care in the hospital for respiratory distress out of control. He is breathing only 8 times a minute, each breath followed by a grunt as his body attempts to blow off the CO2 building in his failing lungs.

His wife tells me that John knew he was dying. Just the day before he had said to her "I will never see the dogs again." She started to cry.

I suggested we try to bring the dogs in to see him and say good bye. Two big Labs.

"Could we do that?"
"We can at least ask. The worst they can say is 'Are you out of your mind??'"

I spoke with the PM supervisor and came to the family with the answer within 15 minutes.

"It's all set. As long as they are brought straight to his room and don't visit any other patients they are welcome to come in."

The family was so thrilled, hugs all around. The dogs did come in that evening. And by morning, John had died. Peacefully. Comfortably. Surrounded by his family and beloved Labs.

 

[Aggressive One]

John was 61, in excellent health. A vibrant, brilliant high power attorney. Two and a half weeks ago, he was having balance problems, and at times, seeing double or vision was blurred. He went to see his MD. His history showed removal of a melanoma (skin cancer) 7 years ago with no recurrence. There were no other outward signs.

His doctor immediately put him in the hospital, and as John was going into surgery he was still on the phone with his law partner tying up loose ends.

The craniotomy showed massive metastases through the brain. No treatments available.

His doctor called me to offer hospice to the patient and family. The first time I meet John he is sleepy and extremely weak but is able to interact. A day later he has slipped into a coma. I spent a couple of hours with his wife and daughter and he was placed on General Inpatient level of care in the hospital for respiratory distress out of control. He is breathing only 8 times a minute, each breath followed by a grunt as his body attempts to blow off the CO2 building in his failing lungs.

His wife tells me that John knew he was dying. Just the day before he had said to her "I will never see the dogs again." She started to cry.

I suggested we try to bring the dogs in to see him and say good bye. Two big Labs.

"Could we do that?"
"We can at least ask. The worst they can say is 'Are you out of your mind??'"

I spoke with the PM supervisor and came to the family with the answer within 15 minutes.

"It's all set. As long as they are brought straight to his room and don't visit any other patients they are welcome to come in."

The family was so thrilled, hugs all around. The dogs did come in that evening. And by morning, John had died. Peacefully. Comfortably. Surrounded by his family and beloved Labs.

Something like this can give us hope for genuine people still existing in this world.

 

[Debbie]

John was 61, in excellent health. A vibrant, brilliant high power attorney. Two and a half weeks ago, he was having balance problems, and at times, seeing double or vision was blurred. He went to see his MD. His history showed removal of a melanoma (skin cancer) 7 years ago with no recurrence. There were no other outward signs.

His doctor immediately put him in the hospital, and as John was going into surgery he was still on the phone with his law partner tying up loose ends.

The craniotomy showed massive metastases through the brain. No treatments available. (snip)

The family was so thrilled, hugs all around. The dogs did come in that evening. And by morning, John had died. Peacefully. Comfortably. Surrounded by his family and beloved Labs.

People should pass in dignity with their loved ones and caring people like you.

It's lovely to see you back.

 

[vrosej10]

John was 61, in excellent health. A vibrant, brilliant high power attorney. Two and a half weeks ago, he was having balance problems, and at times, seeing double or vision was blurred. He went to see his MD. His history showed removal of a melanoma (skin cancer) 7 years ago with no recurrence. There were no other outward signs.

His doctor immediately put him in the hospital, and as John was going into surgery he was still on the phone with his law partner tying up loose ends.

The craniotomy showed massive metastases through the brain. No treatments available.

His doctor called me to offer hospice to the patient and family. The first time I meet John he is sleepy and extremely weak but is able to interact. A day later he has slipped into a coma. I spent a couple of hours with his wife and daughter and he was placed on General Inpatient level of care in the hospital for respiratory distress out of control. He is breathing only 8 times a minute, each breath followed by a grunt as his body attempts to blow off the CO2 building in his failing lungs.

His wife tells me that John knew he was dying. Just the day before he had said to her "I will never see the dogs again." She started to cry.

I suggested we try to bring the dogs in to see him and say good bye. Two big Labs.

"Could we do that?"
"We can at least ask. The worst they can say is 'Are you out of your mind??'"

I spoke with the PM supervisor and came to the family with the answer within 15 minutes.

"It's all set. As long as they are brought straight to his room and don't visit any other patients they are welcome to come in."

The family was so thrilled, hugs all around. The dogs did come in that evening. And by morning, John had died. Peacefully. Comfortably. Surrounded by his family and beloved Labs.

Decent palliative care makes a huge difference to the experience of deaht for the dying and for the living. My stepfather got absolutely lousy care and I hope no one ever gets care as bad as he did. He was dying of cancer and my mother had to argue with the nurses just to get pain meds. It was terrible.

 

[ruminator]

And our consciousness

Denial is a seductive beast

People laugh when I say I come here for serenity and wisdom but it is true. Quotes like this feed my soul.

I've seen more death in the past few years than previously in my life up to this point. Some reach the point where they are simply tired of and/or exhausted from living.

 

[just pet]

 

[just pet]

It takes a team...
Thursday:
Ben is in the ICU, his blood pressure maintained at a barely sustainable level with vasopressors
He has cared for his bedridden wife with MS for years
His grown children stand at his bedside, weeping, confused, not knowing what to do
He has often said he wants to die in his own bed and on more than one occasion signed himself out of the hospital AMA (against medical advice)
When he was still able to speak clearly this admission, he threatened to do so again

Hospice arrives
An order to stop the pressors, take him home on hospice, comfort until he passes on

Calling the ambulance company, the situation explained "as soon as the dopamine is Dc'd, we need to speed him home"
His bedside RN was cited by the family as "the best nurse he has had here"
Her level of expertise and compassion, a perfect blend for the most critically ill people and their families

The ambulance arrived in 10 minutes
The daughter is allowed to ride with her father, and the driver offered to drive her back to her car
She is crying with relief and joy
"You were all dropped from Heaven"

I sent another hospice RN to check on him when he arrived home that night
"He was able to lie next to his wife and hold her. The family was so happy."

Friday:
The next day, when calling re another patient transport need, the dispatch operator asked me how it went
I was happy to tell him how brilliantly the team had performed
I see the ambulance team that transported him home
"We brought him into the house and the look on his face when he was able to see his wife in the hospital bed next to hers was amazing."
I received a call from the son
"Thank you so much. My father just died. You helped us to fulfill his last dying wish, to die at home."

This man and his family touched so many of us, giving us that validation of why we do the work we do

 

[redheadedtxn]

The call came in at 9pm. A 34 year old patient with pain out of control. She is on a CADD pump, with Dilaudid, but her pain is escalating. As the on call RN, I had to go and titrate her meds up.

The hour drive made me cranky, muttering under my breath, "why didn't the nurse that was out earlier fix this..."

The road was dark, the 2 flights of stairs up to the house even darker. The entry was well lit, and the 10 pairs of shoes lined up neatly on the front porch began a story. I was suddenly glad I had just painted my toenails.

I was welcomed in and ushered quickly and quietly into a small room, dominated by a hospital bed, a small jaundiced-bronzed woman in obvious, severe distress and 6 Afghani women.

For the next 4-1/2 hours, I sat vigil with these women, as I increased the Dilaudid from 4mg/hour to 64mg/hr, giving Ativan to calm, began oxygen, held hands.

The patient is 34, her sister died from the very same cancer recently. Her mother and I spoke only the language of the love for our children. She is suffering, just as her dying daughter is. The older woman pulled a chair next to her for me to sit, holding my hand, kissing first one cheek, then the other. We watched and prayed together as her baby's breathing became less labored and her moans became softer and less frequent.

And the young women talked of politics and how they had no interest until just recently, as they are hated, despised for their religious beliefs. As we sat together, sharing a glass of hot tea and sweet dates, we talked of all those fighting, being killed, some Mother's child.

The suffering I saw tonight was not any less nor any more deserved for this young Moslem woman and her family. They welcomed me, never asked about my religion. The dying woman's mother said she loved me, loved me for easing the suffering of her child.

I am different tonight

And now have no tolerance for blind and ignorant hatred


What experiences have changed you in a heartbeat?

This made me choked up.
People forget...we are all human.

 

[just pet]

This made me choked up.
People forget...we are all human.

yes indeed

 

[HoHoBomb]

http://youtu.be/utu7UqbStGY

 

[Debbie]

Right back at you.

A wee while back a family saw me and they smiled, hugged me and said;

"You cared for my Mum with dignity and love. Thank you."

We are all going to die. Eventually.
Caring for someone in their last days is a biggie.
It's about caring for someone who is terminally ill and hoping that their last few days is as pain free and as comfortable as possible.

It is heart warming when someone tells you that they appreciate what you do for their dying loved one.

Some times just having someone to talk to through a tough time can make a big difference.

for those who are dying and for the family, the Drs, hospice. nurses and for caregivers who care for the person who is dying.
Thank you.


When I needed the Hospice, Drs, hospice nurses and caregivers for my Mum in law their care was and still is invaluable.

 

[Debbie]

I will never forget how wonderful just pet is and how she was there for me when I really needed someone to share with.



In the middle of the night my time and things weren't going so well and I didn't want to wake or worry the family I sometimes came here just to vent or pass a little time. It was a blessing and so were the posters who helped me deal with things emotionally even when I was exhausted.

 

[Laurel]

She's amazing. And this thread deserves a bump. Thanks Debbie.

 

[PaganBull]

Waking up..

...in hospital to find bits missing changed my outlook on life. I believe it changed for the better.

 

[Bidin~Time]

I walk into his bedroom. "Hi Daddy, how's it goin today?" "Oh not bad, Sis", he replies, adding, "I'm glad to finally get home, took me forever to get anybody at the plant to let me in and tell me where that load was to go. but, finally got ahold of someone on the CB." Then he asks, "Do we know who's paying for this haul? I don't know if i have to go back tonight..." I kinda smile and hope my memory serves me today. "Dad i'm sorry gettin that load off was such a pain, I'll make some calls. I haven't asked who is paying the haul bill, but it's all loadin over at the prep plant and they called us, so I'm assuming they are payin, but I'll double check." "that'd be good, honey, maybe they could speed things up a bit on unloading." We talk for a bit about how those "big companies" never seem to let the right people know what's going on and
laugh a time or two, then I ask, "Dad, have you had anything to eat?" No, he hasn't but assures me he'll get something later. I ask him if he wants me too go find him some dinner, he looks across the room, and asks, "is that a truck stop over there?" "Yes, Dad, it is, why don't you let me go see what they have?" "Ok, you do that, I'll just wait here, but nothin too much, just an ole cheap sandwich will do." i kiss his cheek and tell him I'll be back in a few minutes, leave his bedroom and head for the kitchen. Daddy has always been a lover of peanut butter and it's always safe bet to get him eat, so i make him a sandwich, fix him a drink, and head back to his room. "They had peanut butter, Dad, I hope that's ok," I say presenting the sandwich and drink for his approval. he says it is fine, and take the sandwich, eating it slowly. I comment it doesn't seem like very much and ask if he wants me to go back for another. He tells me no, that's enough, and we sit and talk about his "day" until he gets sleepy and decides to talk a nap. He tells me to wake him when they call with his load schedule, i promise to do so, tuck his covers up so he doesn't get chilled, kiss his forehead, and walk out of the room.

 

[CaptainKirk]

My wife Jazz was diagnosed with Stage 4 liver cancer last March.

The day we found out, she cried with me holding her and crying with her for what seemed like hours. After that day, she never cried, not once. I did, though I would never let her see me, but I would pull myself together. I had to be strong for her sake.

Throughout the treatments, we were planning a trip out west next (this) year. She always wanted to go to Las Vegas and do what she loved doing best: gambling at the casino and losing my money. Then to the west coast. She wanted to see the Pacific Ocean. I told her I wasn't sure if we had enough time to do all of this, with her appointments and therapy. She just said, "Sure there is; we have time. We have all the time we need."

Mid-December, our grandchildren came to the house and decorated it for the holidays. Jazz was so happy to see them one more time, and loved them for putting up the tree and decorations for her favorite holiday.

That was her last good day before she started deteriorating.

I lost her four days later, nine days before Christmas. At the end, I and our daughters (along with most of our families) were there beside her bed. She opened her eyes and looked at us, smiled a little, faded back to sleep... and slowly stopped breathing, with me holding her hand the whole time.

Thanks to people like Pet, the nurses who chemo treated her, her doctors who monitored her progress, the hospice caregivers who made sure she wasn't suffering or in pain in the end... they gave her nine months she never would have had. I brought the staff roses and chocolates, and thanked them for doing all they could for her.

I won't waste anymore time. Life is too short to worry about petty things. Just live life and keep going, no matter what it throws at you.

Today is Jazz's birthday. For her... I'll keep going.

Happy Birthday, my beloved. I love you, and I miss you.

 

[BlueEyedGent]

My wife Jazz was diagnosed with Stage 4 liver cancer last March.

The day we found out, she cried with me holding her and crying with her for what seemed like hours. After that day, she never cried, not once. I did, though I would never let her see me, but I would pull myself together. I had to be strong for her sake.

Throughout the treatments, we were planning a trip out west next (this) year. She always wanted to go to Las Vegas and do what she loved doing best: gambling at the casino and losing my money. Then to the west coast. She wanted to see the Pacific Ocean. I told her I wasn't sure if we had enough time to do all of this, with her appointments and therapy. She just said, "Sure there is; we have time. We have all the time we need."

Mid-December, our grandchildren came to the house and decorated it for the holidays. Jazz was so happy to see them one more time, and loved them for putting up the tree and decorations for her favorite holiday.

That was her last good day before she started deteriorating.

I lost her four days later, nine days before Christmas. At the end, I and our daughters (along with most of our families) were there beside her bed. She opened her eyes and looked at us, smiled a little, faded back to sleep... and slowly stopped breathing, with me holding her hand the whole time.

Thanks to people like Pet, the nurses who chemo treated her, her doctors who monitored her progress, the hospice caregivers who made sure she wasn't suffering or in pain in the end... they gave her nine months she never would have had. I brought the staff roses and chocolates, and thanked them for doing all they could for her.

I won't waste anymore time. Life is too short to worry about petty things. Just live life and keep going, no matter what it throws at you.

Today is Jazz's birthday. For her... I'll keep going.

Happy Birthday, my beloved. I love you, and I miss you.

I haven't been on Lit much due to the daily grind of work ...your post was the first one I read today , and I have to tell you it made me tear up, and also smile...you , Captain Kirk wrote a most beautiful tribute to your wife, and there is no doubt that she knew how much you loved her and will always love her.

I am smiling because you present yourself as a man who is strong , courageous,and truly appreciates the meaning of life.

I pray that you will live a very long, healthy and happy life, enjoying your children and grandchildren , and always remembering your wife , and the love the two of you shared with one another.

Happy Birthday to your beloved Jazz....