Restored and Made Strong

This past Monday, February 23, is the kind of day that you never want to endure. Before Mom arrived at the hospital a new team of doctors with fresh perspectives, following old clues and conferring with the previous Critical Care Team were in checking and evaluating Dad. The ICU has a rotating team of medical professionals each week. Dad was scheduled for a new dialysis port for the morning, with dialysis in the afternoon. With doctors continually reviewing the charts you would think they would have been able to fine tune the trouble spot for Dad's mysterious infection and fluid retention that made his belly so distended. The doctors had an answer and a probable cause but the outlook did not look favorable for a full recovery for Dad. They suspected a rupture or leak of the chyle duct. I had never heard of this anatomical term. I guess it would be left to Google. http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/190025-overview.
Their explanation made sense, that's all that mattered. They would continue to do everything they could to try and turn around Dad's condition for as long as we desired. They were on morning rounds and I felt Mom needed to be present before any further treatment plans were engaged. As she arrived Dr. Cox and his team were prepping to put the new temporary port into Dad's neck area.

As they performed the port procedure, we took a walk to the lobby to mail some greeting cards Mom had prepared, one for Dr. Pates who delivered me 46 years ago. He is the oldest practicing doctor in Idaho! No, I wasn't born in Idaho. He used to live in Belding. His daughter was celebrating his 85th birthday with a surprise. We wandered back to the family lounge where Mom read her book and I wrote a little bit into the blog. Nurse Jenn came and said they were all set and we could come back anytime. Mom headed back as I packed up the laptop. She was gone a couple of minutes then peeked over my shoulder and said the doctors were done for their morning procedures and could talk with us in the consultation room.

They explained in greater detail of the possible chyle leak, which in healthy patients can be controlled. In order to confirm the diagnosis more tests, ultra sounds, and ex-rays of specific detailed areas would need to be done. Surgery would be required, which Dad was not a sound candidate for, considering all of the recent set-backs. The doctor explained in certain pro-active(politically correct?) terms that he was pro-life and respected the patient and the family's desire for protecting the quality of life. It makes one wonder what kind of college and humanity courses on compassion these professionals need to acquire in order to maintain their composure in such conversations with a patient's family. They needed to know if we had any previous conversations with Dad prior to surgery regarding long term, life sustaining measures. Any that knew Dad would question that we had already pushed the limits on heroic measures with all that had already been done. Dad had already been going to dialysis 3 times/week for a few weeks prior to surgery so was already in gear for that plan. With all of Dad's recent complications, at best, if treatment was in the Lord's favor, we would be looking at a long term stay in a Nursing Home. Prior to this last infection Mom and I were prepared to inlist the services of Spectrum Health's LTACH
http://www.spectrum-health.org/cs/Satellite?c=eHA_Content_C&cid=1218817408142&ehapubname=Cont_Care&pagename=Cont_Care%2FCont_Care_Central_Template
for rehabilitation to get Dad back on his feet and in his OWN bed. Nursing Home? Ventilator Dependent? With Dad no longer responding to us, the doctors or physical therapists how much more could we make him endure? We had already felt we overstepped heroic measures with the respirator following his seizure on January 28. With a tearful, prayer of petition to God, we felt his answer had been in front of us already. Dad had been breathing on his own, yet needed the extra pressure support of the ventilator to complete his breaths. As the infection increased so did the dependency on the ventilator. Mom and I agreed that if God was calling, Dad should have the dignity to heed his call. We tearfully called my family together. Pastor Curtis from Spectrum's Pastoral Care brought us a Comfort Quilt, hand stitched by the Quilters Guild at Emmanual Lutheran, and prayed with us as we laid it over Dad's feet. Dave's sister Mary and daughter Christine arrived to join us in our time of prayer and grief. We are one in body as a family. We surrounded Dad with clinched hands, hugs, prayers, tears and laughter from 3:00-4:45pm, at which time God peacefully called him home.

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 1 Peter 5:10

The hospital staff was generous with their compassion with regards to Comfort Care, making sure Dad and his family were comfortable and allowing privacy in our time of grief. His nurses Jenn and Bridgett monitored him quietly from their station, periodically coming in to make sure he was in a restful position.

Mary and Christine offered to drive our second car home, but Courtney said she was able. Dave and Courtney had picked Kelsey up at school so her friend Christopher had driven her car to his house, then later shuttled it home when the girls arrived. I drove Mom home in her Tahoe and Dave followed in our Expedition. She insisted that I stay at home with our girls. I didn't give her the option, I called my cousin Jim to come over. She said he didn't have to stay. We had already made a private decision that he would! He told her to get some sleep and he and Murphy would do their thing.

I felt sick to my stomach and had a horrible headache all the way home. Dave stopped at Walgreen's to get cold meds for him. I got out of the truck just to get air. Dave had made several phone calls to people while at Mom's. I wanted to make a couple more when I got home and spend some quiet time with my family, but all I could do was grab a bucket and curl up in my bed. With every twinge of pain from my pounding headache and the chill that overtook me, I was awash with grief and emotion. I could not help but think what kind of pain or the feeling of being cold my dad must have had at times while he lay in that bed unable to talk. My only comfort was knowing that Dad was no longer in pain. I realized I was about 10 hours past due in taking my blood pressure and anti-anxiety meds. I don't carry them with me. Courtney brought me water and Dave garnered my pillow, which I had left in the living room on Sunday afternoon, and another comforter because I was so cold. I finally fell asleep. I awoke at 12:04am feeling much better. I checked on my sleeping girls, let the dogs out briefly and went back to bed. I don't even remember if Dave snored ;) I did wake up every couple of hours though.