Saturday morning he called me and told me he was headed to the emergency room. I knew he had been sick and had texted him about it earlier that week. He had gone to the clinic and was taking Tamiflu after testing positive for influenza. While I spoke to him on the phone he did not sound right. He had trouble collecting his thoughts. The kind of thing we learn in nursing school when a patient is deprived of oxygen. I told him I would meet him there, hung up and made calls to my three siblings.
When we got to the ER they had dad on oxygen, instructing him not to move too much because when he did his body’s oxygen saturation dropped. Dad was still able to hold a conversation with us girls as we sat on the floor next to his bed. He never missed a beat telling people that my sister and I were nurses. As the physician walked into the room my dad made the announcement. The physical looked at us both and said “You might want to see this then,” leading us to the view of dad’s chest X-ray. It was then the doctor told us dad was going to be transferred to the main hospital in Des Moines and he would not be surprised if dad was intubated by the end of the night.
I called my brother and told him to meet us downtown instead, then signed onto facebook and made my first facebook post…
Facebook, March 28, 2015…
“Praying for my dad because calls like that make me nervous.”
At this point I had been a nurse for about a year and a half. I was knowledgeable enough to know my dad’s lungs were not in good shape. They were filled with fluid and bacteria and he could not keep his oxygen up on his own. However, I was naive enough to have seen many people survive this. I thought of all the patients I had cared for who had survived a situation similar to this. I knew dad would be another survior.
Us four kids met dad downtown. He had been transitioned into an ICU bed, gowned up and machines on. He was still able to talk with us but his color was fading and his O2 saturation dropped more often. We decided to call my mom so she would know where we all were and what was going on. My parents were divorced so she would be out of the loop until one of us called. My facebook post also started to spread news and we were getting calls from Dad’s sister and brothers. Interesting how in times of nerves and uncertainty we turn to social media. It’s weird to think getting the news out was one of the first things I thought to do. I was was searching for prayers.
I do not know where that afternoon went. Evening rolled in as we took turns sitting in with dad, only two visitors were allowed in at a time. I am not sure what played out while I sat in the waiting room until my next turn but before I got another visit with dad he was intubated. I had already had my last conversation with him and I didn’t know it.
Mom arrived that evening when we told her things were not looking good. She brought up food, clothes, blankets. All that stuff moms think of to comfort their children. She stayed with us until late in the night. Tucking us all in as if we were little kids again. Vulnerable and helpless she sent us to bed on the waiting room couches. I don’t remember sleeping, but I do not remember laying there awake all night either. What I do remember hearing was “Code Blue” being called over the intercom. My sister and I both shot up knowing “Code Blue” meant CPR needed. We listened again as the announcement blared through the speakers. It was not dad’s room. We said our prayers for dad hospital neighbor and laid back down.
Facebook March 29, 2015…
“Dad’s Oxygen level is finally starting to stable out as he continues to depend on the ventilator for breathing. It is good to finally see his heart rate in the double digits again as well. I wish he could talk to us but this is for the best right now. Thank you so much for all the prayers and support it means so much to us as we wait here praying for good news.”
We spent the whole next day at the hospital as family and friends started to arrive. I am not sure when things went more south than they already were but somewhere around 12:00am, marking March 30th, Dad was being prepped for emergency surgery. They were going to set him up on ECMO. He was so sick and it needed done so quickly the surgery was performed right in his hospital bed no time to prep an operation room.
As the surgery started, the ICU doctor grabbed us kids and told us we should come back with him. Our grandparents and mom joining us. A priest was there too as our family had grown up catholic and had asked for some extra prayers. We hugged in a circle from outside dad’s room watching the board of his vital signs jump around.
Just like that the commotion stopped. We could still see a heartbeat on the board so we knew dad had made it through the operation. The ICU doctor and the surgeon escorted us all back to the waiting room that was filled with family and friends, FILLED! The surgeon announced that dad was successfully on ECMO but would be transferred to the University of Nebraska for management. I remember then being pulled into someone’s lap as they comforted me. My siblings and I were dispersed throughout the room as everyone worked to comfort one another. As we packed up the waiting room ready to head to Nebraska, the ICU doctor said to us “When he gets better make sure he stops by to see me.” …A little hope filled my heart.
Us kids drove home and mom came around with her suburban picking each of us each up for the 2 hour car ride to Nebraska. My mom gave up her drivers seat to my brother-in-law who had a little more of a lead foot. Dad was in the ambulance far ahead of us by now. The nurse riding along with dad and the infusionist had my phone number should anything happen during the drive. I could not decide if I should watch my phone screen or hide it and just pray it would not ring. Interstate 80 carried my siblings and I, our grandparents, and vehicles filled with dad’s siblings to the University of Nebraska that night.
I remember getting there and saying to my mom, “I think we are starting to get out of the woods.” The machine would oxygenate dad’s blood for awhile giving his body some rest and soon we could talk with him again. I was so naive, but I had to cling to that little bit of hope that I had.
Dad has 5 brothers and a sister. We have more cousins than you can count on two hands and our grandparents. All of us filling the ICU waiting room at the university now. We were called into a conference room by one the physicians for an update. He warned us that things did not look good. He said some other things too but it is such a burr now. I stepped out of that room and fell to the floor choosing not to get back up. Eventually giving in to the sleep my body was begging me for.
I was woken up by someone telling me the physician needed us all in the conference room now. Raising my head from the floor, I saw my family filing in through doors…
Facebook, March 31, 2015…
Dad, 50, died Monday, March 30, 2015 at the University of Nebraska Medical Center in Omaha from complications of Influenza A… Father to Alisha 24, Shayla 22, Jacob 20, Cierra 17.
Today marks 5 years since he has been gone. I remember back then not knowing how I was going to live another minute without him. I choke back tears now as I relive the last five years without him. He wasn’t sitting in the stands at my littlest sister’s graduation from high school or college. He didn’t get to hear about my brother’s endless adventures across the US or help him remodel the home he lives in now. He wasn’t there to cheers to my sister’s engagement or her new home. He couldn’t walk me down the aisle and he won’t be there taping the nursery glass when our baby arrives in June.
I play his voice on repeat listening back to old voicemails and videos. I flip through his pictures in our albums. I drive his truck screaming the lyrics to some of his favorite songs.
I hold my mom a little tighter. I pick out things that each sibling does reminding me of him. I cry after family reunions knowing my dad should have been there. The hurt never goes away but we keep living. I knew typing this out would not be easy as I hide my tears behind this here computer screen, but it feels good to take some of these bottled up tears and let them flow again.
I miss my dad so much. I wake each day stepping one foot in front of the other but I will always think of him. I embrace each memory I make, but I still wish he could be there. He always made us feel so loved and we knew he loved being our dad. He will be forever missed and our guardian angel until we meet again.
Dad’s last Facebook Post March 3, 2015…
“Driving home today George Strait, (Love Without End, Amen) comes on the radio. “Thoughts as a parent.” As your children move and become independent with their lives, I think Awesome! That is what parents are for! I know written for both sons and daughters.”
“Love Without End, Amen,” By George Strait
