water is everywhere...
Originally posted by badly_broken2 at water is everywhere...
So I wake up because I still have this freaking toothache...I walk through my house, go to my kitchen. I turn on the water, get pills, take them and trod back to the other room to hibernate. I am half asleep half awake can't decide how I feel. Probably a good half hour later (possibly longer) I hear the dog doing something in the kitchen. It's really annoying so I go to investigate, I had left the water running that entire time now my entire kitchen is under a good two inches of water. I threw some towels on it, walked in the living room and sat down to cry! Seriously who the hell does these things other then myself? NO ONE!
Roll the clock back to the week of Dec 2nd to the 8th. I hate that time of year that is the week of one of my best friends birthday Dec 5, and also my Son Dec 7. I dread it like the plague..both are deceased. So their birthdays still hurt even after a few years for my loving friend Ralph, and my Son who has now been gone 20 years. Whoever said time heals all wounds obviously never buried a child. Now as if that week wasn't hard enough for me for the reasons I just stated...my Dad had been feeling sick. They had sent him for a chest xray looked like a pneumonia, but to be safe the next thing was a cat scan... then after the cat scan a PET scan.. he had his doctor appointment to follow up with the PET scan Dec 3-- I knew he had the appointment and I waited anxiously to hear from my mother all day. As I was driving home from the store with my two daughters my cell rang, it was Mom. Her words echoed in my head as she said with a wrenched voice "Dad has cancer again, I can't really talk right now I will talk to you later." My mind screamed ..."WHAT--Wait where at and whats the prognosis?" I was to find out later.. stage 4 lung, liver, lymph nodes, and spine. But that day all I knew was my Dad wasn't well and it didn't sound good if Mom couldn't even talk about it. I hung up and burst into tears screaming as I got out of the truck and I beat the hood repeatedly for a few mins with my fist. Life is so freaking unfair!!
Dad visited an oncologist.. and was optimistic even though I knew in my heart and mind stage 4 cancer in that many areas was not a good thing. He clung to the fact he had beat cancer once before, almost 20 years prior. That's right he cheated death and cancer the first time around, he told me and my sisters he was not giving up and he was going to do it again. Yet he had an urgency. My sisters and I all live in Ohio-- Mom and Dad live in Florida, they were scheduled to come visit us all.. my oldest sister had bought them round trip plane tickets on their 50th wedding anniversary which had just passed in Oct. Dad asked my sister to see if she could speed up the date he was to come, he really felt he needed to be here, she did and they arrived ahead of the normal visit time. They visited and Dad while looking a bit weary seemed to be optimistic and cheery most the time. He visited with everyone, grand kids, kids, whoever he could while he was here and made sure we took lots of pictures.He knew deep inside.. though he put on a good front for us, he held my mothers hand as often as possible something I was not used to seeing, and gave hugs and kisses to everyone. He went out with my sister and got a flu shot.He made sure we knew he loved us all. He told us all one evening as we were sitting around visiting.. that he had decided he didn't want to die in Florida he was born here and wanted to die here. He also let us know he didn't want to be cremated as he had said he did previously and that he wanted to be buried with military honors in the national cemetery here. Those were his wishes should something not go right.. but we weren't to be concerned he assured us all he wasn't giving up. He told me he needed us all to be strong for him so he could remain positive. What a crock of shit.. I know you meant it Daddy and I don't say that to you but to cancer! I hate you cancer!! Dad and Mom returned to Florida right before xmas and told us all they had things to tend to there and would be back here soon as possible. He went there and sold a lot of his precious processions cleaned out his 401K and deposited it where my mother could also get to it. The oncologist told him there wasn't much they could do with the advanced stage of his cancer.. that took the wind from his sails and I hate that damned doctor for doing that to him. at the end of January my parents returned here.. in that short period of absence my father had declined rapidly I was not prepared for the man who got off the airplane and met me at my sisters house. He could no longer walk, I got a wheelchair and we transported him into the house, he was so weak. Once inside he was exhausted from the traveling.. he wanted to lay on the couch and so we lifted him and made him comfortable as we could and he slept. I kissed him and he kissed me back his eyes said the words his lips couldn't seem to form. "Oh Daddy-- my mind was screaming--" I love you so much please don't go." For the first three or four days he was here he made attempts to eat but only when we pushed him to do so. I watched my Dad-- superman-chuck norris and every other super hero you can possibly think of rapidly weaken and wither before my very eyes. He began to complain of pain but refused to take more then a half of a vicodan a day or so because " he didn't want to get addicted to them" How crazy is that? Apparently insanity runs in the family. I know I'm insane guess he was too! The doctor had prescribed him ativan for his anxiety, he wouldn't hardly take that either, Mom would sneak them in with his other medications. He needed them! The four of us, My mother, my two sisters and myself tended to him lovingly as well as his grand kids when they were there. The oncologist in Florida said he had about 6 mos to a year.. f**king liar. He arrived in Ohio on a Saturday and by the following Thursday I knew his days , minutes and hours were numbered. ( The disadvantages of having worked in the healthcare field..I know what it looks like when someone is dying) That Thursday night Daddy was hurting so bad he would lay down then grab my arm and struggle to sit up.. Id sit him up and he would struggle to breath.. his back he said hurt badly. (Dad had a mechanical voice box from his first bout with cancer which was in the larynx he had a permanent tracheotomy.) He felt as if there was something inside his trach.. but in reality we had found out when they took him in the second time in a month (while still in Florida) to drain the fluids off his lungs from the cancer that his left lung was collapsed. The fluid couldn't be drained because it was to thick. A huge set back for him. As the fluid continued to build in his chest it put pressure on his stomach which made it really hard for him to eat without being in pain. My sister would take hemostats and remove dried up chunks of blood and mucous from his trach. We finally got a suction machine, but again we would only be able to suck out so much. It was mostly blood. We all took turns trying to coax him into drinking a ensure drink, water, food or broth. his intake was very little. That Thursday night we all agreed we needed to get him some more pain relief. He was miserable and it was killing us all to watch him suffer with the pain. That night before I left he was laying on the couch as he had been. The futon had been placed against it in order that my Mom could lay beside him at night and make sure he didn't try to get up and fall. Mom and my sisters were doing various things so I laid on the futon and held my Daddy's hands. He lay there staring at me saying nothing his beautiful blue eyes looked glassy and mirrored my own. We lay there just staring at each other quietly.. My heart was screaming out in pain but I tried to hide it from him. I tried so hard to convey my thoughts and feelings without speaking least that moment.. that spell be broken. I wonder now what he was thinking as we lay there that night? My girls were beginning to whine and had school the next morning so I finally told him I needed to get them home and in bed he acknowledged and mouthed weakly he loved me. I wish I had talked more, I wish I had told him all those things I am now holding inside. The next day I got there hospice was there. They had been called to the house to help with pain management and put him on their crisis list and immediately sprung into action. They brought a hospital bed and a shit load of supplies. Morophine, ativan and anything else they thought might make him more comfortable. He sat up on the couch with my help and was concerned to see a hospital bed in the room, wanted to know where the hell he was. We explained he was still in my sisters house and that the bed was for him so he could rest better then being on that darned couch. We asked him if he wanted to lay in it he agreed, we walked him to the bed and laid him in it. He was so restless that night and he mouthed to me that his trach needed cleaned I told the nurse who was busy trying to get all his orders from the doctor. she said she would do it in a few mins.. he banged his hand on the bar and mouthed NOW, HURRY! I checked his oxygen saturation and it was not good it had dropped into the 60s I told his nurse. At this point he was agitated and confused from lack of oxygen to his brain. He looked me square in the eye and said with his lips. "WHO ARE YOU?" I burst into tears and my mother jumped up and asked what was wrong I told her what he said and she said "Honey that's Robin you know who she is, Do you know who I am babe?" He didn't say anything. But he seemed calm.. I was hurt but understood why he asked. They cranked up his oxygen to a full 5 liters. That seemed to help raise his level to a safe limit. They gave him good doses of morophine and of ativan but that night he was restless. They put a cath in him to collect urine, he was very upset by that and kept trying to rip it out, he also kept pulling off his oxygen. Finally they removed the cath before he could hurt himself. I kept asking as we all did what he needed and if something was hurting but he would just flail around his bed and mouth things I was unsure of most the time. The night nurse told me not to be upset that he didn't even really know what he himself wanted at that point, but it was hard not to be. I went home late that night and returned the next morning. Dad was resting finally they had managed to get his pain under control and keep it that way by medicating him before it got its grip on him again. I hated knowing he was medicated so heavily yet it was better then watching him be in so much pain. This was the 2nd of Feb and I decided to stay that night there was no school the next day and I just felt I needed to be there. Always listen to that tiny voice in your head, it knows more then you might think it does. I was so scared Dad was going to pass that day as he didn't look good at all. Although I wasn't ready to give up on him I could not stand the thought of him suffering either the 2nd was my nieces birthday though and I just kept thinking how horrible it would be for her if he passed on her day. That night as he slept we all camped around him, I was on his right Mom on his left in a recliner holding his hand and dozing on and off My sisters were on a foot and a head. We had him surrounded. I slept late that night with my head on the hospital bed beside him holding his hand. Sometime early morning I moved to the couch for a couple hours which was beside the bed and slept for a while. That day my fathers 3 half sisters came to see him, they all sat quietly as we had Dad surrounded just like the night before. I was as I had been holding his hand with my right hand and had my left hand propped up on top of his wrist, secretly I was keeping watch over his pulse rates and reassuring myself he was ok. I panicked when I realized I could no longer feel his pulse yet I knew he was still alive as I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, I checked his feet and saw the telltale signs of impending death he was beginning to mottle and I couldn't find pulses on either wrist or feet. I walked quietly to the dining area where the nurse sat taking notes. I squatted beside her and whispered my observations. I asked that she look and make sure it was not just me being paranoid. She couldn't find his pulse either. So she used her stethoscope and listened to his heart, it was racing at 115 beats she told me. I walked over and squatted beside my Mom I told her that Daddy's body was beginning to shut down, explained the significance of the loss of pulse in the extremities and the mottling. My sister was busy on the phone so I went and told her too, I then crossed the room where my three aunts sat and told them he was dying I gave them the chance to be at my side of his bed for a few moments, and they did. I sat beside him and watched his breathing.. in and out.. and knew it wouldn't be long now.The nurse checked his heart rate again it was racing at 150 beats. she gave him more morophine and ativan.I asked the nurse to reassure my mother that Daddy was not in pain, she bent and quietly talked to Mom, and then Mom stood and talked quietly in Dads ears I could only hear half of what she said.. but she told him she loved him how we all had loved him and that we were all there beside him and as she said our names she placed our hands on his head and I think she told him it was okay to go then. The heart can only race like that for so long before it just stops and that's how it happened. His breathing slowed and he then took a few more breaths and just stopped, he coughed once and then nothing. She checked his heart, and then removed his oxygen.
My Dads last coherent moment was on the day before his death, he opened his eyes looked into my mothers eyes puckered his lips kissed the woman he had been married to for 50 years and closed his eyes again. Daddy Died Feb 3 at 418 pm. My heart is broken.,, as if it wasnt bad enough I lost my Dad that day, the 7th of Feb is my ex husbands death anniversary and the 10th of Feb is my sons. Three men in my life.. all died within that week but different years. I felt as if I had been hit by a train and I still do. I can not make it through a day without tears. I feel lost confused and drowning in sorrow.. sorta like my kitchen at the moment.
I need to wake my children for school.. another sleepless night for me..
Write more later.
Me
So I wake up because I still have this freaking toothache...I walk through my house, go to my kitchen. I turn on the water, get pills, take them and trod back to the other room to hibernate. I am half asleep half awake can't decide how I feel. Probably a good half hour later (possibly longer) I hear the dog doing something in the kitchen. It's really annoying so I go to investigate, I had left the water running that entire time now my entire kitchen is under a good two inches of water. I threw some towels on it, walked in the living room and sat down to cry! Seriously who the hell does these things other then myself? NO ONE!
Roll the clock back to the week of Dec 2nd to the 8th. I hate that time of year that is the week of one of my best friends birthday Dec 5, and also my Son Dec 7. I dread it like the plague..both are deceased. So their birthdays still hurt even after a few years for my loving friend Ralph, and my Son who has now been gone 20 years. Whoever said time heals all wounds obviously never buried a child. Now as if that week wasn't hard enough for me for the reasons I just stated...my Dad had been feeling sick. They had sent him for a chest xray looked like a pneumonia, but to be safe the next thing was a cat scan... then after the cat scan a PET scan.. he had his doctor appointment to follow up with the PET scan Dec 3-- I knew he had the appointment and I waited anxiously to hear from my mother all day. As I was driving home from the store with my two daughters my cell rang, it was Mom. Her words echoed in my head as she said with a wrenched voice "Dad has cancer again, I can't really talk right now I will talk to you later." My mind screamed ..."WHAT--Wait where at and whats the prognosis?" I was to find out later.. stage 4 lung, liver, lymph nodes, and spine. But that day all I knew was my Dad wasn't well and it didn't sound good if Mom couldn't even talk about it. I hung up and burst into tears screaming as I got out of the truck and I beat the hood repeatedly for a few mins with my fist. Life is so freaking unfair!!
Dad visited an oncologist.. and was optimistic even though I knew in my heart and mind stage 4 cancer in that many areas was not a good thing. He clung to the fact he had beat cancer once before, almost 20 years prior. That's right he cheated death and cancer the first time around, he told me and my sisters he was not giving up and he was going to do it again. Yet he had an urgency. My sisters and I all live in Ohio-- Mom and Dad live in Florida, they were scheduled to come visit us all.. my oldest sister had bought them round trip plane tickets on their 50th wedding anniversary which had just passed in Oct. Dad asked my sister to see if she could speed up the date he was to come, he really felt he needed to be here, she did and they arrived ahead of the normal visit time. They visited and Dad while looking a bit weary seemed to be optimistic and cheery most the time. He visited with everyone, grand kids, kids, whoever he could while he was here and made sure we took lots of pictures.He knew deep inside.. though he put on a good front for us, he held my mothers hand as often as possible something I was not used to seeing, and gave hugs and kisses to everyone. He went out with my sister and got a flu shot.He made sure we knew he loved us all. He told us all one evening as we were sitting around visiting.. that he had decided he didn't want to die in Florida he was born here and wanted to die here. He also let us know he didn't want to be cremated as he had said he did previously and that he wanted to be buried with military honors in the national cemetery here. Those were his wishes should something not go right.. but we weren't to be concerned he assured us all he wasn't giving up. He told me he needed us all to be strong for him so he could remain positive. What a crock of shit.. I know you meant it Daddy and I don't say that to you but to cancer! I hate you cancer!! Dad and Mom returned to Florida right before xmas and told us all they had things to tend to there and would be back here soon as possible. He went there and sold a lot of his precious processions cleaned out his 401K and deposited it where my mother could also get to it. The oncologist told him there wasn't much they could do with the advanced stage of his cancer.. that took the wind from his sails and I hate that damned doctor for doing that to him. at the end of January my parents returned here.. in that short period of absence my father had declined rapidly I was not prepared for the man who got off the airplane and met me at my sisters house. He could no longer walk, I got a wheelchair and we transported him into the house, he was so weak. Once inside he was exhausted from the traveling.. he wanted to lay on the couch and so we lifted him and made him comfortable as we could and he slept. I kissed him and he kissed me back his eyes said the words his lips couldn't seem to form. "Oh Daddy-- my mind was screaming--" I love you so much please don't go." For the first three or four days he was here he made attempts to eat but only when we pushed him to do so. I watched my Dad-- superman-chuck norris and every other super hero you can possibly think of rapidly weaken and wither before my very eyes. He began to complain of pain but refused to take more then a half of a vicodan a day or so because " he didn't want to get addicted to them" How crazy is that? Apparently insanity runs in the family. I know I'm insane guess he was too! The doctor had prescribed him ativan for his anxiety, he wouldn't hardly take that either, Mom would sneak them in with his other medications. He needed them! The four of us, My mother, my two sisters and myself tended to him lovingly as well as his grand kids when they were there. The oncologist in Florida said he had about 6 mos to a year.. f**king liar. He arrived in Ohio on a Saturday and by the following Thursday I knew his days , minutes and hours were numbered. ( The disadvantages of having worked in the healthcare field..I know what it looks like when someone is dying) That Thursday night Daddy was hurting so bad he would lay down then grab my arm and struggle to sit up.. Id sit him up and he would struggle to breath.. his back he said hurt badly. (Dad had a mechanical voice box from his first bout with cancer which was in the larynx he had a permanent tracheotomy.) He felt as if there was something inside his trach.. but in reality we had found out when they took him in the second time in a month (while still in Florida) to drain the fluids off his lungs from the cancer that his left lung was collapsed. The fluid couldn't be drained because it was to thick. A huge set back for him. As the fluid continued to build in his chest it put pressure on his stomach which made it really hard for him to eat without being in pain. My sister would take hemostats and remove dried up chunks of blood and mucous from his trach. We finally got a suction machine, but again we would only be able to suck out so much. It was mostly blood. We all took turns trying to coax him into drinking a ensure drink, water, food or broth. his intake was very little. That Thursday night we all agreed we needed to get him some more pain relief. He was miserable and it was killing us all to watch him suffer with the pain. That night before I left he was laying on the couch as he had been. The futon had been placed against it in order that my Mom could lay beside him at night and make sure he didn't try to get up and fall. Mom and my sisters were doing various things so I laid on the futon and held my Daddy's hands. He lay there staring at me saying nothing his beautiful blue eyes looked glassy and mirrored my own. We lay there just staring at each other quietly.. My heart was screaming out in pain but I tried to hide it from him. I tried so hard to convey my thoughts and feelings without speaking least that moment.. that spell be broken. I wonder now what he was thinking as we lay there that night? My girls were beginning to whine and had school the next morning so I finally told him I needed to get them home and in bed he acknowledged and mouthed weakly he loved me. I wish I had talked more, I wish I had told him all those things I am now holding inside. The next day I got there hospice was there. They had been called to the house to help with pain management and put him on their crisis list and immediately sprung into action. They brought a hospital bed and a shit load of supplies. Morophine, ativan and anything else they thought might make him more comfortable. He sat up on the couch with my help and was concerned to see a hospital bed in the room, wanted to know where the hell he was. We explained he was still in my sisters house and that the bed was for him so he could rest better then being on that darned couch. We asked him if he wanted to lay in it he agreed, we walked him to the bed and laid him in it. He was so restless that night and he mouthed to me that his trach needed cleaned I told the nurse who was busy trying to get all his orders from the doctor. she said she would do it in a few mins.. he banged his hand on the bar and mouthed NOW, HURRY! I checked his oxygen saturation and it was not good it had dropped into the 60s I told his nurse. At this point he was agitated and confused from lack of oxygen to his brain. He looked me square in the eye and said with his lips. "WHO ARE YOU?" I burst into tears and my mother jumped up and asked what was wrong I told her what he said and she said "Honey that's Robin you know who she is, Do you know who I am babe?" He didn't say anything. But he seemed calm.. I was hurt but understood why he asked. They cranked up his oxygen to a full 5 liters. That seemed to help raise his level to a safe limit. They gave him good doses of morophine and of ativan but that night he was restless. They put a cath in him to collect urine, he was very upset by that and kept trying to rip it out, he also kept pulling off his oxygen. Finally they removed the cath before he could hurt himself. I kept asking as we all did what he needed and if something was hurting but he would just flail around his bed and mouth things I was unsure of most the time. The night nurse told me not to be upset that he didn't even really know what he himself wanted at that point, but it was hard not to be. I went home late that night and returned the next morning. Dad was resting finally they had managed to get his pain under control and keep it that way by medicating him before it got its grip on him again. I hated knowing he was medicated so heavily yet it was better then watching him be in so much pain. This was the 2nd of Feb and I decided to stay that night there was no school the next day and I just felt I needed to be there. Always listen to that tiny voice in your head, it knows more then you might think it does. I was so scared Dad was going to pass that day as he didn't look good at all. Although I wasn't ready to give up on him I could not stand the thought of him suffering either the 2nd was my nieces birthday though and I just kept thinking how horrible it would be for her if he passed on her day. That night as he slept we all camped around him, I was on his right Mom on his left in a recliner holding his hand and dozing on and off My sisters were on a foot and a head. We had him surrounded. I slept late that night with my head on the hospital bed beside him holding his hand. Sometime early morning I moved to the couch for a couple hours which was beside the bed and slept for a while. That day my fathers 3 half sisters came to see him, they all sat quietly as we had Dad surrounded just like the night before. I was as I had been holding his hand with my right hand and had my left hand propped up on top of his wrist, secretly I was keeping watch over his pulse rates and reassuring myself he was ok. I panicked when I realized I could no longer feel his pulse yet I knew he was still alive as I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, I checked his feet and saw the telltale signs of impending death he was beginning to mottle and I couldn't find pulses on either wrist or feet. I walked quietly to the dining area where the nurse sat taking notes. I squatted beside her and whispered my observations. I asked that she look and make sure it was not just me being paranoid. She couldn't find his pulse either. So she used her stethoscope and listened to his heart, it was racing at 115 beats she told me. I walked over and squatted beside my Mom I told her that Daddy's body was beginning to shut down, explained the significance of the loss of pulse in the extremities and the mottling. My sister was busy on the phone so I went and told her too, I then crossed the room where my three aunts sat and told them he was dying I gave them the chance to be at my side of his bed for a few moments, and they did. I sat beside him and watched his breathing.. in and out.. and knew it wouldn't be long now.The nurse checked his heart rate again it was racing at 150 beats. she gave him more morophine and ativan.I asked the nurse to reassure my mother that Daddy was not in pain, she bent and quietly talked to Mom, and then Mom stood and talked quietly in Dads ears I could only hear half of what she said.. but she told him she loved him how we all had loved him and that we were all there beside him and as she said our names she placed our hands on his head and I think she told him it was okay to go then. The heart can only race like that for so long before it just stops and that's how it happened. His breathing slowed and he then took a few more breaths and just stopped, he coughed once and then nothing. She checked his heart, and then removed his oxygen.
My Dads last coherent moment was on the day before his death, he opened his eyes looked into my mothers eyes puckered his lips kissed the woman he had been married to for 50 years and closed his eyes again. Daddy Died Feb 3 at 418 pm. My heart is broken.,, as if it wasnt bad enough I lost my Dad that day, the 7th of Feb is my ex husbands death anniversary and the 10th of Feb is my sons. Three men in my life.. all died within that week but different years. I felt as if I had been hit by a train and I still do. I can not make it through a day without tears. I feel lost confused and drowning in sorrow.. sorta like my kitchen at the moment.
I need to wake my children for school.. another sleepless night for me..
Write more later.
Me