(Wrote in Sept 2007)
I have two tournaments to write about - but today I am instead going to write about something I didn't ever imagine I'd be writing about on Sept 14, 2007.
My parents have been not doing well since March and my Mom was in the hospital for 20 days in March/April and my Dad was in the hospital for 7 days in August. My Dad was having complications with his diabetes while my Mom was still trying to live with advanced emphysema.
I normally come down on a Friday, driving down with Tony, and then spend the weekend with my parents to help out (I've been visiting roughly every 3 to 4 weeks) but I decided a while ago to fly down a couple of days earlier than usual and then Tony would drive down Friday by himself and we would meet up Sunday at a FE tournament in San Antonio. He would spend the weekend with his family in New Braunfels and play in the tournament.
My Dad picked me up at the San Antonio airport Thursday morning. He drove real slow as he made his way to the curb. I switched seats with him and we zoomed off as we discussed if we should have lunch. I said Pappasittos (he loves it there), but I think he was thinking of something a little quicker and maybe closer to home. He was worried about my Mom because he had tried to call her several times, but she wasn't answering the phone because she was so tired from working around the house getting ready for my visit. He then said, "what about Chillies? I love Chillies." Although I wasn't craving their food, I said yes. Of course, when we get there, I eat almost all the queso and truly enjoyed the fries with honey mustard and ate half my hamburger! He has the chicken crispers which he enjoys. He started off with the corn on the cob and made a mess. We chatted the whole time and he was asking me questions and we were just talking about everything - what was going on with him and my Mom (he was about to get some home health care) and I updated him on my work and pool.
After bringing him home, I worked around the house and also took care of some phone calls I needed to make for my parents. My Dad and I discussed what I had found out - deep stuff, like partial medicaid state recovery program, his life insurance, etc. When I got back from going grocery shopping for them about 7pm, I went to get something to eat. My Dad was sleeping but peeping at him before I picked up some dinner woke him up and he wanted some corn dogs from Dairy Queen, while I got their awesome tacos.
When I brought them back to him, he was back asleep but woke up for dinner. When I checked on him later, he had fallen back asleep and only had eaten half a corndog. About 10pm, he went to the bathroom and was having a difficult time and possibly fell asleep on the pot. Two hours later, after I finished the comments on the Hunter Tour photos, I heard him go to the bathroom again, and after he went pee, he kind of fell across the hall and could barely stand up. He made it to his bed and fell backward, just like he sleeps in his bed and I asked him if he was okay. He said yes, and that sometimes his legs give out on him (he has wounds on both his calves all the way around his legs). Within seconds he was snoring.
The doctors had increased his morphine and he was more confused and possibly so confused he wasn't taking his insulin like he should be. He had quintuple bypass surgery in 1992. 1992! The doctors did great work on him, but that last artery they didn't replace was bad and his diabetes was real bad.
He had a doc appointment Friday morning (this morning as I write this) and I set my phone for 7am so my Mom could get him up and ready. At 7am, the phone alarm goes off and I remain on the couch in her room as she gets out of bed to wake him up in his room so he can shower and get ready for the van that comes and picks him up in his motorized wheelchair. My Mom comes back in almost immediately and says she can't wake him up. I didn't think anything of it - he's very difficult to wake up.
As I open his door, my Mom is standing in the hallway, looking at me walking toward him. As soon as I saw him, sitting on the floor, slouched over a little, against the bed, with the weirdest color to his face, my mind knew something was going on but my heart did not. But, I never said anything to wake him, I just I touched his neck to feel for a pulse and he was cold. I walked to my Mom with wide eyes and said, "I think he's dead." She started crying, I started crying and we were hugging. And then thought, "I better double check - maybe he was just cold because the A/C was blowing on him - people feel cold from that all the time! I walked back to him, again, my Mom stayed back and was watching me from the hall, and I looked at his tummy and for the first time, after so many years of doing that, it wasn't moving. I touched his neck again, but didn't leave it there long enough to feel a pulse, only felt he was cold and could tell his skin wasn't the right "feeling."
We called 911. "What's your emergency?"
"I think my Dad has passed away."
"Do you think he needs CPR?"
"Uh. no..."
"Address... and how old is he?"
"7614 Stagecoach, San Antonio. 56"
Fifty Six.
My Mom was balling, I was holding her, crying. She didn't know what to do, neither did I. I changed clothes, she muffled around not knowing what to do. She wanted to see him, and would open the door and start wailing. I would drag her away as I convinced her to sit down so I could flag down the EMS. Then we remembered we needed to put the dogs up and scurried around.
The 10 minutes it took for them to arrive was eternity. They walked up calmly - which upset me - what if he did need CPR! Why did I say he didn't? "How are you ma'am?" I couldn't even speak or respond. What kind of question is that?
They walked into his room and as they turned the corner they both had this look in their eyes.... "yep, he's dead." I still asked, is he dead. "Yes ma'am." My Mom starts wailing again and I walk to her and hug her. One guy takes his temp and they said it looks like he passed 2 hours earlier. They asked us questions.
Name
SS
Birth date
medication
health problems
my name
my mom's name
my address
They thought immediately it was from complications from diabetes or heart. I asked if it looked like he suffered and they said no.
He sleeps perpendicular on his bed, and props his feet on his wheelchair so they are elevated. He hadn't elevated his feet (when I saw him at midnight he hadn't lifted his legs) and it looked like he passed away and then slipped off the bed and slouched to his left. His glasses were by his left hand on the floor, his nitro pills on his necklace were still inside his shirt, he looked peaceful. I will always appreciate, for the rest of my life, that God allowed him to be in that position. As I write this, I realize now it could be SO much worse. However, I will never, ever forget how he looked. To see a dead body, of someone you love, with those weird colors, is not something I hope anyone reading this ever sees.
What do you do now? We didn't have a funeral home. The EMS doesn't take my Dad. Police guy stays at the house in his car. Who do we call? What do we do? When do I call his brothers and sisters and how will I tell them their brother passed away?
My Mom and I sat there, crying, not knowing what to do once the EMS guys left. The Police guy told us what would happen. Why didn't it make sense to me? I couldn't understand him. ME's office. Doctor release. Funeral home. I didn't understand. What order was what suppose to happen? I didn't know the funeral home's name - the guy that would know hadn't called me back.
About an hour later, the police guy comes in and says the ME does want the body - my Mom starts crying, "he doesn't want an autopsy!" under her tears. He says he can't do anything about it, but the ME wants the body and from there they will decide if an autopsy is necessary. Oh, and they want all my Dad's meds.
"Oh, okay, I'll get them." I open the door to his room and start wailing. I forgot he was in there on the floor like that! The policeman said he would do it and I said no, I'll go in, too. I stepped over him and tried to find everything and we brought it out to the kitchen where my Mom was.
I told one neighbor as we waited for someone to come get my Dad. What was taking them so long? Why do they leave the body in the house for so long? I called Tony - "don't leave the house until you call me back - my Dad died and I need some things." He was shocked. Everyone I spoke to today has been shocked.
I will try and write more tomorrow or Sunday. I'm actually tired. I don't think I can sleep in my Dad's rooms yet, though. Just not ready, not strong enough.
A lot more happened.... roller coasters and unknowns and crying and phone calls....
I am overwhelmed that of all the times I come down to see my parents, I came early and my Dad passes away while I am here, the first night. I know everything happens for a reason and God looks over us, but for this to happen while I am here is truly a MIRACLE. I don't know how my Mom could have done this without me, having to wait 5 hours until I got here. I am SO thankful and blessed that my Mom and I were able to go through this together, from the very beginning of this day - at 7am. It was a hard day; it's not over, but knowing we were together during this rough time, means more to me than I can even write down in words. Thank you, God.
