there's never enough time

I had the words all worked out in my head- what I wanted to say, how I wanted to express myself. Now as I sit here. My mind is blank. I've lost it all.


On Thursday, April 9th my Papaw passed away. He seemed to be progressively getting better with each day that he was in the hospital.

He was in ICU for 10 days.

On Wednesday when I went to see him after work he had just finished eating his supper. I could only stay for an hour before the visiting hours were over. It was just me and Papaw. Always the socializer he started right away.

"What is Steve doing to the house?"
"He's fixing some of the cracks in the wall before he repaints"

"Do I get to go home tomorrow?"
"That's up to the nurses, they want to make sure you're good and strong before they decide anything."
"Can you talk to them for me?"
"Of course I will"

We had a few other short conversations in which I tried to do most of the talking because I could tell he was getting winded. After a bit he asked me to get him his oxygen because he couldn't breathe. I told the nurse and she came in to put on his mask. When the visiting hours were over I told him I'd be back on my lunch the next day and mom would be there first thing in the morning. Apparently he had a difficult time that night still struggling to get oxygen. My mom and her 2 brothers were told the next morning that they needed to start making some decisions. They explained the situation to Papaw and asked him if he wanted to continue using the BiPAP machine that he had become more and more dependent on.

"No, pull out all the plugs"

He didn't want the machine anymore, didn't want to have to struggle for air. One of his biggest fears was not being able to catch his breath. Knowing his wish the nurses turned off the oxygen and began to sedate him so that he would be comfortable on his own.

The whole day went by so fast. Mom called me around 12:30 and asked if I was still coming to the hospital on my lunch. I told her that I was and she said that I might want to go ahead and come now because they had made the decision to sedate and Papaw may not be awake much longer. I sat for what seemed like forever- real time was probably only about a minute- and tried to figure out what I needed to do. I laid out everything on my desk that had to be completed that day and told my boss I was leaving. I wasn't sure what to expect once I got to the hospital so my boss said to call if I decided to take the rest of the day off. It was 10-15 minutes later when I got in his room and he was already asleep. I'd missed him. Mom said he could still hear us and we should talk to him like we had been but he just wouldn't be able to answer because of the medicine.

The doctors said there was no way to predict how long he could carry on this way. Could be one day, a week, a month. All they could do was monitor his stats and if it seemed like he was uncomfortable they would increase his dosage. I had been holding his hand for hours, mom had done the same throughout the day so he would know and be able to feel that he wasn't alone. I didn't want him to be scared. That evening as we sat around him telling fishing stories, his heart rate began dropping further and further and then stopped around 9:20pm. To say that I miss him just doesn't feel like enough, it hurts more than that. The only thing that gives me some peace of mind is the story he told his nurse the night before.

Papaw points upward

"What?"
"Heaven. I'm ready to be with my wife."
"Oh, now Bernard, I think you're confused. Your wife was just here the other day."
"No... my first wife."

*sigh* Granny

so much for spring break

All last week mom stayed in the hospital with my Papaw as much as she could. It was supposed to be her spring break at work/school. Papaw went to the ER Monday afternoon, they admitted him into ICU that evening and he is still there as of right now. It's been a heck of a week, for the most part he's getting better but everyday was a series of ups and downs. Tuesday they unhooked the ventilator and he was breathing on his own. Wednesday they took the tube out of his throat. Thursday they found out that what he had was pneumonia. Friday they had narrowed it down further to strep pneumonia. By then he had been on such aggressive medicine for days that he was surprisingly sitting up, leaning forward in bed when I got there. 

'Well hello, how are you feeling today Papaw?' 

'OK... old... did you come to bust me out of here'

That afternoon he talked my ear off telling me all types of stories. But he got winded after a bit and had to go back on the BiPAP machine which has become a routine for him lately. This machine is similar to what people with sleep apnea use at night. It's a mask that forces oxygen into your lungs so it's giving his a much needed rest. He doesn't have much lung capacity to begin with from his emphysema and he's on medicine to slow his heart rate down since his heart is working extra hard to get his lungs going. 

On Sunday he was able to eat his first meal in about 5 days and that consisted of some baby food looking mush. I've been going to see him everyday on my lunch since the hospital is only about five minutes from my work. I go after work too if the visiting hours are still open because sometimes he's asleep the whole time I'm there at lunch. Each day that I go though he tells me 'Thank you for taking care of me' and 'I love you'. It's so hard with his dementia because most of the time when he wakes up he asks where he is. Then mom tells him the whole story of how he came to be in the hospital and that he is doing better each day. He feeds off of our energy so I walk in with a smile every time. It's not the ideal setting but I love every minute I'm getting with him right now. He's 87, has some great stories and I wish he could live forever.