My dad went into the hospital on April 4, with such severe kidney failure that they had to do dialysis on an emergency basis. His fistula had been put in three days prior, but it takes a couple of months for a fistula in the arm to be mature enough to use.
Eight days later, he had extreme abdominal pain overnight, and it was discovered he had a perforated ulcer. The surgery they had to do on April 11 was complicated, and they basically had to reroute the way his stomach fed into the small intestine. I can tell you from personal experience that when they have to remodel your intestinal tract, it is NOT easy on the patient and the recovery is intense.
A week after that, he was found to have a partially collapsed right lung, and they had to go in with a tube to clear out a big amount of mucus that was clogging things up, so the air could flow properly.
He looked so much better after that procedure, with better color and even an appetite for the first time in forever. His appetite had gone down to nearly zero, and I think part of the problem there was the stomach had to retrain itself to its new method of sending food through to the intestines. It had worked one way for 82 years, so telling it, "Surprise! Now you have to do things THIS way instead" is not an instant process.
Fast-forward to this week. He had improved to the point where medically, his labs and vitals were great. Even without oxygen, his pulse ox was showing as 90 and 92 the last time I was there, which is outstanding for a person with COPD. I think he still he one drain left in, but the other ones were gone. (Drains are a pain in the keister, BTW. Can confirm, bigtime.) He needed a lot of PT because he had gotten so weak, that he couldn't possibly have gone home. He had to get his stamina back, since he could hardly walk, and there is no way he could have handled going up and down stairs at home. So that would have to be handled in PT sessions, as well.
It was not meant to be. He was transferred to a rehab place on Thursday night, one that has a great reputation, as far as I can tell. I have heard nothing but good things about them. But yesterday morning, he was found unresponsive in his room, and efforts to revive him were not successful. It appears that he passed away in his sleep.
Needless to say, we were all shocked. He had been on a really good track toward recovery, and had even been turned down by three different rehabs because they said he was not acute patient. Hey, if three different places tell you that you are too healthy for them to take you on as a patient, that sounds like a good thing, right?
The first full day of walking this earth without my dad on it seems surreal. It is always a hard thing to lose a genuinely good person. We got some of the preliminary plans made last night, with the funeral director. I am glad that process has begun, because my mom was worrying about what it would entail. The more concrete things we can take care of, the less she will need to worry.
My heart breaks for my mom even more than it breaks for me. I know I can battle through my own internal turmoil, but I can't battle through someone else's pain for them. If I could, I would. I hate the fact that she has to do that herself, without her lifelong partner and best friend.
Bereavement is a part of life, I know, but it's one of the parts that suck. I try to count myself lucky that I had such a wonderful dad that I, and everyone who knew him, will miss him dearly. A lot of folks are not so fortunate. But even so, pain is pain and we can't really avoid it. We can only process it and integrate ourselves into the new reality facing us.
