Hi, it's me again. I'm going to pretend that it hasn't been a year since I was last here. But it has and I'm ready to talk. I've journaled some but this feels like a better way to work through my thoughts.
How we lost Dad...
It all started on Thursday, February 17th. My mom called to say that she'd taken dad to the ER with stroke like symptoms. They wouldn't allow her to go back with him so she sat in the car in the parking lot just waiting to hear something. I called Patrick to come home so I could go sit with her. While I was waiting on him I called my brothers and sister and let them know what was going on. I wasn't overly nervous or upset. I was sure whatever it was would be treated and he'd be on his merry way. I got to the ER and Dad facetimed us from inside. He said the tests showed he didn't have a stroke but they thought the tumor on his brain might be bleeding (we'd known about the tumor since 2020, we were told it was nothing to worry about) they were sending him to the hospital downtown overnight for observation. We were told one of us at a time would be able to be with him there. We waited at the ER and watched them load him in the ambulance and followed it downtown.
We got parked and headed in. He texted us and told us what room he was in. Mom went up to see him. I sat in the lobby. There was severe weather. I just remember friends and family texting me asking if we were in our safe place. I remembered being scared but also thinking there were worse places to be in a tornado. Mom came down to swap with me so I could go see him. She was so upset. He'd fallen before the nurse realized he was in the room. It was shift change and the nurse was ready to be done. She said he looked worse than when he'd facetimed us earlier. I went up, he did look worse. Much worse. One of his eyes was weird. But everything he was saying made complete sense. He was asking about Barrett and his baseball team. (They had just been picked that week.) He was having trouble using the left side of his body so he had be text some clients he had showings scheduled with the next day. "tell them I'm in the hospital but I'm ok, I should be out by morning so we shouldn't have to reschedule but I'll touch base with them in the morning". Mom came back up. We've never been a family that followed occupancy rules. We were all hungry but they wanted dad to wait to eat until after the dr saw him to make sure they didn't want to run any tests. We ordered McCallisters. We came back in and they said he could eat. All he wanted was the pickle. The doctor came in and thought that the tissue around the tumor was irritated and said they'd start him on some antibiotics and that should clear everything up. That sounded easy enough. Dad got increasingly more agitated as the night went on but the nurses and doctors all agreed it was anxiety and that he just needed some rest. Mom and I went back and forth on if one of us should stay, which one should stay. I didn't want him to stay alone, she didn't want to stay because she felt like he would do better without her there. She didn't want me to stay (I was 32 weeks pregnant, I really had no business staying). The nurse was so sweet. She said they were going to give him something to calm him down and that it would be fine if neither of us stayed with him. So around midnight I kissed him on the forehead and told him I loved him and that I'd see him tomorrow.
The kids were out of school the next day so we'd made plans to go to a trampoline park with some friends. I was getting ready and my mom called. It was not good news. Around 3:30am something happened (I'm still unsure what happened) and they had to intubate him and move him to the Neuro ICU. They were draining blood off his brain and things didn't look good. My mom wasn't panicked at first. She called and said she was headed to the hospital and would update when she got there. When she called back she just said "they said I need to call my kids to be here". So I called Patrick and told him what was going on and for him to call his parents to come stay with the kids. I called one of my best friends and said can you come right now and stay until the in-laws get here. As soon as she pulled up I jumped in the car and left. My hair was wet. I'd called my little brother and sister before I left and told them they needed to come. On the way to the hospital I called my older brother and let him know what was going on. He was out of town with his wife for her birthday. I told them I didn't know what they needed to do, I would call him back when I got to the hospital and laid eyes on him. My sister was the first to get there. I didn't even stop at the desk to argue with the people about how many visitors were going to be there. I was practically running.
I got to the 8th floor and turned to go down the hall. He was in the very last room and I saw my mom, sister and the doctor standing in the hall. The doctor was so kind he said we had a lot of decisions to make. At that moment they didn't have a lot of answers. It was going to be a wait and see game. We had options but we didn't have to decide right then. He would go over everything when the boys got there. There was another doctor that rounded that morning and we gave her the nickname "Dr Doom" because she never had good news, no one really did but she didn't sugar coat anything. I don't even remember what she said but I asked her a question like "what is the outcome if that happens" and she was just like "he will die". Well alrighty then. I went out to the waiting room to call my older brother and I just broke down. I think I said something like I don't know what to tell you. They'd already decided they were going to come back home. Family started getting word and showing up. They opened a little consultation room for us to talk with the doctor. Every time I looked up someone new was there with the same shocked, saddened look on their face. It was comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. I had dads phone and was trying to text the same clients we were talking to the night before. We talked to dads broker and he stepped in and handled everything.
There were so many people. The people at the desk downstairs hated us. The doctor sat down with my mom, my siblings, my dads brother and me and laid it all out. Honestly, none of it was great. He had a brain bleed, they did a procedure where they went in to try to find where it was bleeding and stop it. It was unsuccessful. We decided to leave him on the machines and monitor him and we'd take it a day at a time. We knew that a 100% recovery was not likely. IF he regained consciousness, he'd likely be left without use of his left side. We knew he'd never want to be taken care of day in and day out. But we all agreed if he could still be around in any way he would want to. But I think we all kind of hoped it would be an all or nothing situation. I think the hardest part was not having complete clarity of what should/could/would happen. I had already decided I wasn't leaving that day. I was staying with him that night. They took him for a CT scan. It was worse. Although no one would tell me that, they waited until my sister was there the next day, I don't know if they were scared to tell me or if she looked more responsible but either way after that scan they knew he was not going to get better. The rest of the weekend they held us to the two visitor rule. So I didn't go back to the hospital until Monday morning.
Saturday night my friends had all gone in together and stocked our fridge and pantry with groceries. I had a card on the table from someone at UAB and Barrett saw it and asked if it was a ticket to go see Granddaddy. I was so devastated in my own saddened state that it was kind of the first time that I considered what this was going to do to my kids. My mom stayed at the hospital Saturday night and Sunday night. My cousin came up Sunday to see him. His wife was like you gotta play "Proud Mary" for him and when they played it he started moving his foot. For a moment we were hopeful. But we quickly realized it didn't mean anything really. There was an explanation but I can't remember what it was. We all agreed we would meet with the palliative care team on Monday and make a plan.
Monday morning I left home early, the kids were out of school for presidents day. I had an appointment to check on the baby scheduled that morning but I ended up just going in early and telling them my situation asking if they could see me earlier and they kindly worked me in. I was back with my family by 9:00am. One of my sister in laws good friends was on the palliative care team. It was so nice to have a familiar face with us. We agreed to free him from the vent in the ICU and if he was stable enough move him to the palliative care unit. It was as awful as you'd imagine. Our nurse that day was precious. My mom, my siblings myself and our spouses were able to be there with him. When we got back there he was snoring. It was oddly comforting. But also made us laugh. It was a long day. Most of our family was downstairs and they all took turns coming up to see us/him. At one point my little brother looked at me and said "what if he doesn't die". Everyone assured us that we didn't need to worry about that. Around 5:00 someone from the palliative care team came by to check on things. He said we could move him if we wanted but didn't think it was necessary. We were laughing and joking and I apologized to him saying something like "I promise we're all really sad we just cope with humor". He kinda got choked up and said something like "I can see so much love in this room. You are all very lucky to have each other." Now, maybe he says that to everyone, but that didn't bother me. It started getting late, family from downstairs slowly came up to tell us bye. He passed away around 9:15 at night on February 21st, 2022. We said goodbye again and just left him. I had no idea when I left on Thursday night that it would be the last time I heard him tell me he loved me. I wonder all the time if he knew it was worse than we did. I think he did.
Grief is hard and weird. It will hit you out of nowhere. Navigating your own grief while also trying to lead your children through their grief is one of the hardest things about all of it. Everything feels wrong, all the time. There has been so much joy since we lost him but everything is bittersweet.
