This time, last year, was not a very happy time for us – Bob had been moved from our local hospital in our home State to OHSU across the river; he has been shifted there November 24th in hopes that the medical Team there could get a handle on his dire circumstances.
All hope had been pulled the previous evening when the surgery was halted – and any further plans were shelved. Bob was moved from ICU/ER back upstairs to a private room.
Drs. Morgan and Gilbert conferred and tried to convince us that Bob would be better off in a “rehab facility back home” since they could do nothing more for him there, at OHSU, “for at least 3 weeks”: I KNEW what THAT would mean and said, “NO. I am not putting my husband in a Nursing Home.” Dr. Morgan said that it was not possible that Bob could come home, but “in a rehab facility”, Bob could continue the tube feeding and physical exercises in Longview; and seemed to think that would be a good idea.
But I wasn’t biting at the bait – I do not have fancy college degrees, certificates, or BA’s … BUT I DO KNOW what it means when doctors start shifting patients from hospitals to nursing home facilities. Patients in Bob’s fragile condition, who can’t keep even simple bland liquidated food stuffs down, and who couldn’t walk (edema was real bad at this point). NO! I wasn’t biting at the bait. I really was not liking how the situation was going down. So, I got very adamant that Bob was not going to go to any nursing home facility: EVER. I did call Bob’s niece, who works in a nursing home facility back home, and asked about the best facilities in Longview, if the Drs. started flexing their muscle and overruled me. Tiffany told me of 2 that were possible candidates … but, my mind was made up – as long as the option was ours, Bob would be staying at OHSU.
If he was dying – and he was; he would die with dignity.
Where he was.
Not in a facility that stinks of urine and feces, and has demented people roaming the hallways.
This night, last year, I determined to bring some festivity into our dismal circumstances: I played a LOT of music for my Babe; Southern gospel, regular hymns, the Messianic music he enjoyed, traditional and standard Christmas music … and some fun holiday songs too, like ‘Leroy the Redneck Reindeer’, ‘I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas’, ‘Percy the Puny Poinsettia’, ‘Merry Christmas from The Family’ – to name a few. I wanted to take the edge off, and lighten the mood.
Tonight, this year, I am feeling a little guilty over staking our ground and standing over it like a warrior princess while my gentle giant bravely battled for his life.
Perhaps another couple, or a family, was waiting for the bed I demanded my husband remain in.
Perhaps another life depended on my being compliant with Drs. Morgan & Gilbert.
I didn’t care then; and I can push past the prodding guilt tonight.
Tonight, this year, reliving those memories of tonight, last year, all I can say is that we had been thrust into a nightmare scenario that had kept us between a rock and a hard place since October of 2018; and by December 6th, 2018, when all hope had run out for us; I was determined to make it as easy as possible for the love of my life to end his remaining time on this Earth as comfortable and as carefree as possible.
I am not going to apologize for that …
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