My husband stepped off this planet and entered
Heaven’s Gates yesterday morning at 8:05 a.m. – Sabbath Rest; how wonderful is
that? He had been struggling with chronic pancreatitis since August after a
series of events led to a flare-up that set in and would not be controlled. St.
John’s Peace Health hospital was in over their heads from day 1, and told us
that he needed to be treated at OHSU but there was no available bed there for
him until November 26th. The 4 medical teams there that were
assigned to Hubs for his specific situation were fantastic from the get-go:
they made us feel like family and treated Hubs very well, and did everything
they could do for him that would not be in serious conflict with what we
believe in Faithwise. And Hubs agreed to everything they wanted to do to help
him when it did not include actual resuscitation actions – towards the end he
did agree to 4 blood infusions to boost his red blood cell count, and he did
agree to allow the breathing machine when he underwent a failed procedure to
drain the pseudocysts on his pancreas.
But …
Despite everything being done, Hubs started
seriously going downhill this past Tuesday when his breathing became very
strained due to the excess water weight from the rampant edema that had spread
from his legs to include his feet, arms, and back, as well as his painfully
extended abdominal area. Hubs and I knew he was dying; it was just a matter of
time – very weak, nauseous, hot to the touch w/no fever, and in severe back
pain. The docs knew it too but they did not state it until Thursday morning.
Wednesday Hubs and I prayed for a peaceful passing and listened to the Teams
trying to be cheerful (their faces and
body language did not match their pep talks; they were very somber). We
knew that Hubs was seriously fighting for his life at that point, but he
adamantly refused the breathing machine 4 times when it was suggested; and I don’t
blame him. It is painful to experience and to watch someone use, so I supported
his decision to refuse it, and that led to Hubs being placed on a “comfort care”
regimen to keep him as comfortable as possible until the end of his life on
this Earth.
Friday was filled with activity that only a death
scene can stir up: everything was removed from his person (feeding tube, heart monitor, IV drips, ect.) leaving only the
nostril oxygenizer. I called every family member and gave them the news as well
as the option to come see him for the last time if they wanted to do that … or could
do that. Those that were local and fairly local came; those who could not leave
their jobs because there was no replacement workers, or those who lived too far
away and could not get an emergency flight – like our granddaughter in Massachusetts, and our daughter in Nevada – did not, but they called.
Doctor Morgan came in periodically and asked me
how I was doing. I had been at OHSU
constantly since he was admitted, staying all day and all night, going home
only once a week for a 4 hour stretch to collect mail, throw in a load of
laundry and take a shower before heading back to Bob so he wasn’t ever alone
(the time span I chose to do home stuff was when he was having x-rays, imaging,
and doctor consultations): the rest of the time I was on the spot 24/7. I
packed and kept a duffle in the room with juices, paperbacks, and clothing; I
was there with him for the long haul. I said I was “doing okay; we are
prepared for what is happening: death does not frighten us.” She asked if there
was anything I needed. I said, “I need this to hurry up.” Looking at my husband
I wished with all my heart that we could go back to August 29th
BEFORE Candy Scott stormed our front porch with neighbor Ron’s ridiculous paranoia
and her egomania accusations and insinuations which led directly to the
nightmare we were painfully experiencing. Docs
think that he had passed a gallstone at some point before that event and the
stress of the encounter with Candy irritated the already inflamed internal area and that things careened out of control making the situation deadly. That
makes sense because nothing else about the insidious illness does. As I watched
my husband struggling to breathe and speak I wanted so badly to have the
ability to rewind our lives and go back to August 29th when life was
good and we were enjoying our life and looked forward to more good times.
Physical death came slowly through those 24 hours. It was
very hard to experience and watch. A few times he would shake off the effects
of the pain killers he was given to look around and try to talk, but the death
rattle and wheezing was so loud I could not hear his voice even with my ear
pressed to his mouth – that upset me because he was trying so hard to speak and
I wanted him to know that I was there for him. But I could not understand what
it was he wanted me to know. He did tell me again and again before he was too
weak to speak that he loved me, so I am assuming that is what he wanted me to
know. His room was packed with family members that came – his son Alex,
youngest brother Kerry, oldest sister Merry and her youngest daughter Tiffany,
me of course, his middle sister Bonnie, his mother, our daughter and her daughter Alyna, and
her fiancé Liam. And the room was also filled with the phone calls that came in
and I put on speaker so everyone, especially Hubs, could hear the speaker – our
granddaughter Krisalee, in Massachusetts, our granddaughter Brianna, who could
not get time off from her local job to visit the room, our daughter Sara, in
Nevada, who could not get an emergency flight. The only family people absent
were Hub’s youngest sister who couldn’t pull herself away from her $$$$
counting tower to come until the next day (too
late as usual; same sister who could not visit him in ICU in September because she
had an upcoming business deal she didn’t want to miss), and our daughter
and grandson … and you all know, if you have been reading my Blog and FB posts,
why they could not be in attendance, a middle brother who for whatever reason
of his own did not want to come, and a beloved Aunt who was on vacation and
would not have time to get back here in time. Everyone who did make it stayed
until 9 p.m. Around 10 p.m., my middle sister called in tears saying she just
heard ‘through the grapevine’ (aka, FB) and was ‘so sorry’ … I hung up on her –
if she wants absolution, she will have to go to whatever god her believes in to
get it; the way she and her husband treated us in October was and is
inexcusable. I can’t deal with her narcissistic BS right now and I refuse to
allow her to use my husband’s death to assuage her guilty conscience; I forgive
her, BUT she will have to carry her selfish burden alone – I don’t want it. My
youngest sister called and I appreciated that; though our chosen lifestyles are
vastly different, Carla did love my husband and they never had cross words.
Still have not heard from my brothers and I don’t expect to.
I felt a LOT of emotions during those long torturous
hours of endless waiting. I felt numb, angry, sad, joyful, jealous, frightened,
bold, and mournful all at once. I felt numb
because this was something I could not control, and it was spiraling out of
control with alarming speed. Of course, Elohei knows best and He had everything
under control; I just did not want to feel the loss so I shifted into ‘numb’
mode. I am angry because Candy Scott
and that bastard neighbor Ron set this situation into action with their petty ridiculousness
and refuse any responsibility at all. I have forgiven Candy because she is
nothing but a tool, but Ron is a selfish and unrepentant murderer (killed his
wife with his continual smoking even though she was suffering severe COPD … and
he killed my husband with a stress-induced illness that stole his life). I am
angry because when I get home there is no way to avoid either of these people
that have killed my husband and ruined my life. Forgiveness for Ron will have
to come from Elohim; I can’t right now; I don’t want to. I felt sad because my life with Hubs is ending
and yet taking too long to end – I wanted his unrelenting pain to end and I
wanted to hang into him as long as I could too. I was sad because he was
suffering and that could not be avoided.
I was sad because our life together was ending and I was powerless to
stop any of it (the illness, the wrapping
up of 44 years together) from happening. I was joyful because soon my longsuffering husband would be freed from a
bloated and pain-wracked body that refused to cooperate with getting healthy
again. I was joyful knowing that my husband would soon be trading his agonized
body for a brand new one specifically designed for him personally that will
never again know pain and decay. I was joyful because shortly he would be in
the presence of Yeshua, walking Heaven’s streets of gold; I was joyful knowing
that! I was jealous because I want
to be freed from my decaying body too, to be with him as he will be with Yeshua.
I want to be with my husband; instead I am being left behind in a decaying
world with an aging body to now go through life alone, bereft of the warm and
friendly companionship and unconditional human love my husband lavished on me. I
was jealous of my husband’s approaching journey which leaves me behind for a
while until I can join up with him again. I was frightened because I will be alone without love or companionship
for the 1st time in 44 years. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t know
how to be alone – ALL of my life was a
life centered around the love of my life. I am frightened of the future. I
am frightened but not fearful. I felt bold
with a boldness to move forward despite feeling sad and frightened. I must move
forward; I cannot stay at Heron Pointe with my husband’s killers on the
premises. I want to honor my husband’s dying request that I stay in the house
he provided me with, but I have got to sell and move, and I will be doing that
alone. The grandkids want me to move to Oregon where they can keep close tabs
on me and be assured that I am doing okay with their periodic visits and
checking up on me – can I trade a country life for a city life? Maybe. I feel
bold enough to do that, but would that be the right thing for me? I will seek
Elohei’s wisdom and guidance and move forward boldly no matter what is decided.
I felt mournful because my husband
presence would soon be leaving me and I love him and I cannot imagine my life
without him in it. But I must let go; it would be selfish to keep him here in
pain and misery. I do not mourn as the world mourns … as those with no hope;
but I did already feel an acute emptiness at the loss of my husband in my life.
Yesterday after Hub’s spirt left his earthen
vessel and entered into a celestial body up yonder, Kerry gave me a ride back
home where Bonnie and I took care of business at the funeral home before I came
home and started getting used to a life of widowhood. It is strange and I feel
kinda aloof from it. I mean, I am still me; and I haven’t fallen apart like
everyone seems to think I should. I figure for 3 decades Hubs and I have talked
about approaching death and how we would face it and deal with it when it
happens, so I was pretty prepared for yesterday’s unfoldings. Plus I have cried
rivers since this whole nightmare started in August: I am cried out right now.
I do have weepy moments like when I was at the checkout line in Wal*Marts
yesterday afternoon digging around in my purse for my wallet and saw Hub’s
wallet next to mine. Or when one of the kids call and we get to talking about
the good times with Hubs/Grandpa. That’s to be expected. But I had my melt-down
moments in the dark and lonely hours of hospitals, so I believe those times are
past me now. Though I am a widow, I refuse to cloak myself in despair or bleakly
mourn. Hubs would not want me to do that, and our Faith forbids it. I refuse to
get lost in the depths of depression and break like a fragile object (like everyone expects) when I would
much rather put all my energies into rejoicing that my husband now has a much
better life in a much better place. I am happy for him, and that makes me happy
;-)
