I called this post “dealing with loss” because I didn’t know what els to call it.
I thought that I should let everyone know that I lost my Dad last Tuesday night. It was sudden and very unexpected, but I was there with him, and got to say goodbye even though he didn’t seem to know I was there.
I got a call from my step mother, Ann, on Monday evening. She let me know that Dad was in the hospital. He had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of Leukemia, but that he also had gone into respiratory distress on Sunday night and was intubated. He had been “bucking the vent”, so they had to sedate him. At the time we spoke on Monday, she knew that he was stable, but didn’t know if I should come or not. He had a good day that day, so she wasn’t sure what to tell me to do. However, I had a feeling. 73+ aggressive leukemia + intubation + possible infection or sepsis = bad outcome.
So, I set up coverage for my patients at work, and made arrangements for the kids and husband, and left on Tuesday morning to drive to NC and see him for myself.
I got in at around 6pm and we went to the hospital. Of course we got here during the ICU quiet hours (if anyone can remember the term for this, let me know. It’s been driving me crazy) and had to wait until 830 to see him.
I don’t have the words to express how hard it was to see such a powerful man, who I always knew to be so full of life, obtunded in a hospital bed.
I spoke to him. I told him I loved him, and that we need him, and how sorry I was that he was sick. I held his hand, stroked his forehead, and fussed with he blanket. I reviewed the name and rate of each drip, and I felt so lost.
His pressure started to dip, and continued to slide, and the nurse watched closely until she called the code team. They worked hard on Dad, but I knew in my nursey mind that he was in septic shock, and that they were just going through the motions. I’m not sure what time it was, because this weird fog sort of rolled in on me and hasn’t left yet.
I spent the week in NC with Ann. I helped her with Dad’s service, and the obituary. I wrote and delivered his eulogy. I came home yesterday with his straw hat that he always wore.
Now, I’m at my mom’s house, being mothered. However, that fog is still hanging over my head. I am new to this grief thing, having only lost my grandfather prior to this. I was much younger, and the death wasn’t as close to home. I haven’t figured out how to function yet. I guess it will come eventually, but right now I feel emotionally and physically beaten up. I still feel very raw.
I wanted to share with you, because I was hoping it would make me feel better that hiding it felt.
Those who know me know my religious background. Please do not respond with platitudes about my Dad being with god now. He is not. He is in a box on the mantle and he would have wanted it that way. I got my heathen ways from him.
I DO want to know how you made it through and how long it took to start to feel normal. I also would like to know how you maintained your health, or if the stress triggered flares or anything.