The Whole World In Our Hands...: November 2013

My Dad passed away on October 20, 2013 around 5pm. It's been over 5 weeks and it still doesn't feel real. The flashes of memories of that last week with him are finally starting to become less and less and I'm starting to remember how he was before he was sick. Barely. I miss him. My conscious reminds me that I will never see him again and I will never hear his voice again - except for in videos and old voicemails - but that still doesn't seem real. My brother and I both are waiting for huge breakdowns. It's like we have this protective shell around us, keeping our emotions at bay, keeping reality from sinking it. When will the shell crack and everything come flooding out?

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The month of October is kind of a blur. Christopher came been down here from San Francisco to help me with Dad on Oct 3rd. He was able to work from here. Thank God because no way could I have done it on my own. My last day at work was Oct 5th. I tried to go in on the 7th but I was too emotional. My coworkers were kind enough to send me home so I could be here. At that point, Dad hadn't eaten since the 2nd. We were thinking it would be any day. But he hung on. He was quickly fading though. Becoming weaker and weaker and thinner and thinner.

Throughout the weeks, people came to visit, bring meals and to say goodbye. That was heart-wrenching. Especially when it was his oldest friends that he was saying goodbye too. We told Dad many times that it was ok to let go. That was heart-wrenching too. He wanted to let go but didn't know how. At 60 I think his body was still trying to hold on.

We thought maybe he was holding on for Addison's 1st birthday. He told Jack, one of his best friends, that he wanted him to buy him some clothes for ladybug's birthday party. We thought that was the sweetest thing. He made it to Addison's birthday and even shared some special moments with her during her party. At one point during the party Christopher, Auntie Rick, Meghan, Jimmy and myself were in Dad's room with him and he wanted to play a song for us. He played and sang along to Blood, Sweat & Tears "When I Die". My Dad didn't care if it was morbid or not, he loved that song. It brought light to the heaviness we were dealing with. We sat there arm in arm in a circle and sang and laughed and cried. One of the many moments I will never forget.

The last week with Dad was exhausting and trying. He became extremely restless and wanted up and down from the couch in the living room to his bed in Addison's room. But he was getting too weak to move on his own. We had to transfer him back and forth in the wheelchair. Each time took about 15 minutes and then 5 minutes after he was settled he'd want to move again. It was part of the normal process though that we were expecting after reading through the hospice pamphlet. Increasing confusion and restlessness. He asked us a couple of times what it was that he had and how long he had had it.

Throughout the week he was very concerned about Addison and wanted to know where she was and if she was ok. "Where's the baby?" "Where's Addie?" "Is Addie ok?" I'm not sure if he was afraid of leaving her at such a young age or what? But I do feel like they'll always have a special connection. [She was born in the same month he was diagnosed and he died right after her first birthday. And he died in her room. He got to see her little personality develop all because he decided to do chemo and got the chance to live longer. I'm thankful for that, everyday.]

Everyday my brother and I thought that it was the last day. On Monday, the 14th, we both, separately and unknowingly, asked Charlie (Dad's best friend that passed away 25 years ago) to come get Dad. We said he was ready. That Wednesday night, after a day of up and down, up and down, Dad got up at around midnight and fell. Hard. Christopher and I ran in there to find poor Dad butt naked on the floor in the bedroom. Oh Dad! We helped him into bed but not before Dad could joke about Christopher's underwear. The fact that he could still make us laugh and crack jokes even in his state was comforting for us.

I called Hospice that Thursday morning to tell them that he fell and that he was extremely restless. They called it terminal agitation. They sent a Hospice nurse that evening to come help sedate Dad. They gave him a pentobarbitol suppository and it knocked him out pretty good. It was the best rest he'd gotten in a couple weeks. He started becoming congested about 5 hours after the medication was administered. That night Mom spent the night and Jack spent the night thinking he might go at any point. But his vitals remained stable.

Friday was a restful day. Finally. He took a few sips of water but not much. I kept his mouth hydrated with the swabs that hospice provided us. I gave Dad some atropine to help with the chest congestion and it cleared him up for the rest of the day. He was sedated and his pain was controlled by two Fentanyl patches. I still gave him Ativan every few hours as the pentobarb wore off.

Saturday was the hardest day. Dad was very restless again even with the pentobarb. He could still communicate but just barely. He lost control of his bowels and Christopher and I had to change him numerous times throughout the day. The 2nd or 3rd time we were changing him he asked for a blanket and I joked and said "yeah, we'll give you another blanket as long as you don't shit it" and I turned around to see Dad flipping me off. LOL. I called Hospice and was given the ok to double the dose of the pentobarb since one was not keeping him sedated. Two of them finally got Dad back to a restful state. Dad's chest congestion set in again. That damn death rattle. That night, Christopher and I sat with Dad and held his hands and played music for him. Some of his favorites - Somewhere Over the Rainbow, What a Wonderful World, When I Die, Forever Young, Son of a Sailor. We cried and told him we would be ok. We would take care of the babies. It was ok to go - there were a lot of people waiting for him on the other side. When we told him his Mom would be there, he cracked a smile. We knew the end was near as Dad was doing the "fish out of water" breathing. Breathing incredibly fast. So fast that anyone breathing that quickly would hyperventilate.

On Sunday, Christopher and I changed him a few more times. I tried to give him Ativan and Haldol to slow his breathing but he couldn't really swallow. I continued to clean his mouth out with swabs as I had been doing since Friday. The last time we changed him and administered his pentobarb, around 2pm, we could tell he was a lot less responsive, didn't make his usual groans as we were rolling him. He felt really warm so we left the blanket off of him. I took his blood pressure sometime after that and it was low. 50 or 60 over 30, maybe? A little before 5pm I went and checked on him and his breathing was still fast. He felt cold so I put the blanket back on him. Right around 5pm, I went and checked on him again and he had passed away. Very peacefully. October 20th, 1 week after Addison's birthday, 18 days after his last meal, on a Sunday, he was born on a Sunday too. At 60 years old, my Dad had gone to see his Mom for the first time in 50 years.

Over the next few hours, our family came over. The hospice nurse came to confirm that he had passed and to dispose of his medications. At around 10pm, the funeral home guy came and we had to sign a few papers. When the second funeral home guy came, he came with the gurney. My brother and I never actually saw him. We had decided to go outside. We had seen enough, we didn't need to see Dad being wheeled out on the gurney under a sheet. Me, Christopher, Katie Muenzer and Cory went in the backyard and cried. Cory told us then that when the second guy came, Bob Dylan's Knockin' on Heaven's Door was playing on Pandora. I guess they kind of looked at each other a little awe struck at what they were hearing. While we were outside, Mom stayed with the funeral guys as they took Dad. She came back after Dad was gone and said it was very dignified and peaceful. She then told us the second guy that came from the funeral home that his name was Charlie. We couldn't believe it! Turns out, Charlie came and got Dad after all. ♥

Rest in peace, Dad. We love you and will miss you everyday. But we know you're here with us.

This year Aaden went as a firefighter and Addison went as a bee. We went trick-or-treating around Aunt Krissie's house. We went with Natalie and Matt and the kids and then met up with the Lovejoy's about half way through. Thankfully the kids are still young that we don't have to do a ton of trick-or-treating at this point! We hung out at the Wallers' afterward for dinner and a movie although I can't remember what the movie was. Honestly it was a somber kind of Halloween for me but the kids had fun and that's all that matters :)