My dearest husband passed away on Thursday, December 15th. As I write this, I still can't believe it. It's funny that this whole time I have been writing about his illness, yet, did not expect his passing.
There were many signs along the way and myself, as his caregiver, who had been there with him nearly every moment of every day -was still taken off guard by his leaving. As a couple, we spoke openly about the inevitable day that would come. He was never scared about what would become of his spirit, only scared about the process itself. I, too, wondered how it would be. Sometimes, while he was sleeping, I would watch him. Staring at his face, my heart swelled with so much love and the questions of how I would handle it if he began to pass away. Of course, my first thoughts were of reviving him with CPR and knowing me, in that moment, I would forget his advanced directives, not to be resuscitated. So, I would remind myself that if anything occurred, my job in those moments would only be to be there for him.
For about 3 days prior to his passing, many signs were given to us that the end was on its way. There were physical signs. Many of these things are personal in nature, but I know he would want anyone who reads this to be informed. So here goes.
His urination became less frequent. He had the desire to go, but often, nothing would happen. When it did occur it was a very dark amber color. Three days prior to passing, there were black flecks in his urine, which apparently is a sign of kidney failure.
Of course, there is also the obvious need for high-levels of oxygen. We had two concentrators, Y'd together to support 20 liters of oxygen that went through a nose cannula. Then, we also had a liquid tank that supported 15 liters of O2 that also went through a nose cannula. So, basically, he had two cannula's in his nose supporting 35 liters of air and that was barely enough for his needs.
This made his throat very raw and sore. I swabbed his throat with honey and glycerin and he felt that helped, although due to the sore throat, he barely wanted anything to eat. At this point, his primary diet was yogurt or soup broth.
A couple days before, I notices that his feet seemed puffy. They were swelling. I believe it is because his heart had become enlarged from working too hard. But, I also thought that it could also be due to lack of circulation, so I had them lifted a bit higher with several pillows.
Emotionally, there were plenty of signs as well. One day, he asked his best friends daughter to visit him. He did not want me in the room. Later, after he called me in, he asked me if he could borrow some money.
"Only if you pay me back." I said with a wink.
He then gave the money to her and I knew that he was sending her out for my Christmas presents.
He also became more dependant upon me, never wanting me to leave. Two days prior, his nights were very restless. I would wake up to him fidgeting with hoses and doing all sorts of stuff. When he did these things, they caused his SAT's to drop and at times, I had to become very firm and let him know to not do that. I was here and what did he need? During these moments, I am not sure if he knew what he needed and sometimes he needed many things all at once.
He always prided himself on getting ready for the day. A shave, shampoo, a bit of cologne and a change of clothes. This we performed together like a ritual. Closer to his time of passing, he would ask if it was really necessary. That he just wanted to stay in bed.
Even our time in bed was different. Usually, we would watch movies or shows on the television. As the time got closer, he primarily kept his eyes closed, but amazingly would know exactly what part of the movie we were at. On his last day, he slept quite a bit. Over the normal periods of sleeping. At one point we had a visitor and although he was sitting up, he still kept his eyes closed and the sound of speaking too loud seemed to cause him pain. He did not speak much.
After she left, it was early evening. He was propped up with eyes closed, he looked very comfortable. The Christmas tree in our room glowed and Miracle on 34th street was starting. I called my youngest son in and asked him if he would like to watch it with my hubby. I also let my son know that even though his eyes are closed he still hears every word that we say, so feel free to talk to him as well. I stepped out of the room and took care of the house. When the movie had ended, my son left the room and I came back in. My husband opened his eyes and asked for something. I noticed that his right eye looked different than his left. The pupil appeared to be dilated. While I was in the process of grabbing what he had asked for, he essentially told me it was too late. As I sat next to him, both of his eyes opened very wide. They had a far off look. I began to call his name. I don't know why, I grabbed a picture of his daughters from behind him and held it in front of his eyes. I kept calling his name, asking him to look at the picture and begging him not to go. A moment later, he closed his eyes and he was gone.
There were so many signs. But I really did not want to see what they meant. I wanted to only acknowledge each one with a remedy of some form. I told him that morning that I thought he had a flu bug and that we will get him better from it and even though I can't cure his disease, he would feel much better when this flu goes away. In a way, I feel my actions deminished what was truly going on -his dying process.
I wish I had faced what the signs meant so that I would have known the right words to say in the very moment that he was leaving me. I would have professed my undying love and gratitude for all of the beauty that he brought into my life.
