what happened on feb 18th this year
Jul. 8th, 2023 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyankoframeIt was 9 am. You texted me that you were going to the ER. I replied "OK honey ❤️" because I thought you would be texting me soon or I'd hear from the hospital that you were in a room and I could visit.
I took a nap.
3 pm, I wake up and my phone is ringing and there's a missed call and voicemail. It's the hospital.
Your heart stopped before you got to the ER and they were able to resuscitate you, but it took a long time and you were unconscious. They ask me to come as soon as I can as things are not looking good.
I drive to the hospital as quickly as I can, but don't bring my phone charger. Why, I don't know.
I get to the hospital and get checked in. You've just been transferred from the ER to a room in the ICU. I go in and meet the admitting doctor and hospitalist. They don't sugarcoat the news: you are very, very sick with "dead bowel" and need emergency surgery. But there's a high chance that you wouldn't survive the surgery.
They have a catheter, warming pads to prevent you from going into shock, and several vasopressors and other medications to keep your heart going.
They ask me what I want to do.
I go to my phone and call Sara to try and ask her for advice. She tells me that I have to make the decision whether I want to do everything to keep you alive. She also tells me that sometimes, people can hear even when they're unconscious.
I go back in and the hospitalist wants to know what I've decided. He's told me that he wouldn't do CPR if your heart stopped again because it would only cause further trauma but not bring you back to consciousness.
I hesitate. I want to keep you here, but without the surgery you would definitely die, and there's no guarantee that they would be able to remove all the dead tissue, or that you would regain consciousness.
I tell them that I want them to keep you comfortable and not to attempt CPR again if your heart stops.
They come and go over the next few hours. I try to play some Steely Dan and Bruce Springsteen using my phone but have to stop when I run low on my phone's battery. At first I didn't want to stay past visiting hours, but I called my sister to let her know what was happening and she chided me and told me to ask them. So I asked for permission to stay the night and asked Lisa to bring my phone charger from home. I stay by your bedside, and hear the news: your glucose and other levels are increasing, your kidneys are doing poorly and they'll have to do dialysis, everything is slowly shutting down.
Lisa comes and I go to meet her outside the ER. While I'm talking to her, I get a missed call from the hospital. I can't call back because my phone is too low on battery, so I tell her I need to go back in. Just as I get back, the nurses and doctor tell me that your heart is stopping. They ask me to wait in the corridor, but there's nothing they can do.
They disconnect all the tubes and let me come in to say goodbye.
I'm broken. I feel more empty and sad than I've ever been. I take off your earring, the bracelet around your ankle, your scarf which had fallen off and was lying next to your ankle. How beautiful you looked with that scarf and your beret, how alive!
I stay a while, and then go home. I'm too numb to cry or even to talk about it much.
Should I have done things differently? I'm not sure. I could have told them to go ahead with the surgery and attempt CPR again. But if you died on the table, I would feel even more broken. At least this way I was able to be with you and hopefully provide some comfort. I could've sounded the alarm sooner at the SNF - but I'm not sure if that would have helped.
You are free from pain now; back with your mom and Franny and Camoo and Steve and Stephanie and all your other friends who've gone before. It was fortuitous that Lisa and I chose the same funeral home where you had made your arrangements all those years ago. You'll be able to be back with nature at the Sierra Nevada, with a little bit for us to remember you by.
I don't know where I'm going to go from here in terms of relationships. No relationship will ever be the same as the time I had with you. Even though it wasn't as long as we would have liked and it was not smooth sailing, I cherish every moment I had with you, and I will always love you.
Until we meet again.
I took a nap.
3 pm, I wake up and my phone is ringing and there's a missed call and voicemail. It's the hospital.
Your heart stopped before you got to the ER and they were able to resuscitate you, but it took a long time and you were unconscious. They ask me to come as soon as I can as things are not looking good.
I drive to the hospital as quickly as I can, but don't bring my phone charger. Why, I don't know.
I get to the hospital and get checked in. You've just been transferred from the ER to a room in the ICU. I go in and meet the admitting doctor and hospitalist. They don't sugarcoat the news: you are very, very sick with "dead bowel" and need emergency surgery. But there's a high chance that you wouldn't survive the surgery.
They have a catheter, warming pads to prevent you from going into shock, and several vasopressors and other medications to keep your heart going.
They ask me what I want to do.
I go to my phone and call Sara to try and ask her for advice. She tells me that I have to make the decision whether I want to do everything to keep you alive. She also tells me that sometimes, people can hear even when they're unconscious.
I go back in and the hospitalist wants to know what I've decided. He's told me that he wouldn't do CPR if your heart stopped again because it would only cause further trauma but not bring you back to consciousness.
I hesitate. I want to keep you here, but without the surgery you would definitely die, and there's no guarantee that they would be able to remove all the dead tissue, or that you would regain consciousness.
I tell them that I want them to keep you comfortable and not to attempt CPR again if your heart stops.
They come and go over the next few hours. I try to play some Steely Dan and Bruce Springsteen using my phone but have to stop when I run low on my phone's battery. At first I didn't want to stay past visiting hours, but I called my sister to let her know what was happening and she chided me and told me to ask them. So I asked for permission to stay the night and asked Lisa to bring my phone charger from home. I stay by your bedside, and hear the news: your glucose and other levels are increasing, your kidneys are doing poorly and they'll have to do dialysis, everything is slowly shutting down.
Lisa comes and I go to meet her outside the ER. While I'm talking to her, I get a missed call from the hospital. I can't call back because my phone is too low on battery, so I tell her I need to go back in. Just as I get back, the nurses and doctor tell me that your heart is stopping. They ask me to wait in the corridor, but there's nothing they can do.
They disconnect all the tubes and let me come in to say goodbye.
I'm broken. I feel more empty and sad than I've ever been. I take off your earring, the bracelet around your ankle, your scarf which had fallen off and was lying next to your ankle. How beautiful you looked with that scarf and your beret, how alive!
I stay a while, and then go home. I'm too numb to cry or even to talk about it much.
Should I have done things differently? I'm not sure. I could have told them to go ahead with the surgery and attempt CPR again. But if you died on the table, I would feel even more broken. At least this way I was able to be with you and hopefully provide some comfort. I could've sounded the alarm sooner at the SNF - but I'm not sure if that would have helped.
You are free from pain now; back with your mom and Franny and Camoo and Steve and Stephanie and all your other friends who've gone before. It was fortuitous that Lisa and I chose the same funeral home where you had made your arrangements all those years ago. You'll be able to be back with nature at the Sierra Nevada, with a little bit for us to remember you by.
I don't know where I'm going to go from here in terms of relationships. No relationship will ever be the same as the time I had with you. Even though it wasn't as long as we would have liked and it was not smooth sailing, I cherish every moment I had with you, and I will always love you.
Until we meet again.
