Part 3 - Til death do us part.
This will probably be the hardest post to write, but I know how it will help me. Every time I write one of these posts, I feel myself moving forward in the grieving process.
Today is a hard day for some reason, I feel like I have been on the verge of tears all day. Some days are just like that. I woke up with the vision that is in my head most mornings and it is the moments of Jerrys last breaths. Horrible...how can someone wake up to that every single day and get through the day? It physically hurts every morning to get out of bed. I used to roll over and see his face. I used to feel his arm around me or his leg touching mine. Now I sleep in this bed alone, without him and I can't picture snuggling with him. I see him in the bed sick, and hurting. Maybe this isn't a good day to write this entry...or maybe it will be so raw and emotional that it will help.
February 11th 2017 - My mom and Step-dad were at our house in California They had come to help. I remember on the day that mom arrived, and when Step-dad arrived, (they came a week apart) that when they came up to the room to greet Jerry he cried when he saw them. Especially my mom. I couldn't understand his emotions then, but when I look back I feel like he knew something. I feel like deep down he knew he was not going to be on this earth for much longer. It makes me mad too. If he knew that, why didn't he hug us more, why didn't he kiss me and tell me he loved me. Why did he push us away? I have a lot of questions again that will never get answered.
So this was a Saturday. Jerry had a chemo treatment just a few days before and was feeling ok but his legs were swelling really bad. He had edema in his feet and legs and it was working its way up to his hips. He said he didn't feel good at all and wanted to go to the ER. I was hesitant about going because we had gone 2 times before for his legs and it turned out to be nothing. But we were not supposed take things lightly and if we were not sure about something we were instructed to go to the ER. We left the boys home with my parents and expected to be back later that day. On the way in I suggested that we go to to UCLA in Westwood rather than Santa Monica. It was bigger and just as far. We joked about changing it up a bit since we took this drive often. His feet were so swollen that he could barely get his shoes on and left the laces open. His legs were dripping which we learning was called "weeping edema". After we got the the ER he was processed very quickly. We also learned that Cancer patients do not wait long in the ER. After initial blood work and we were told that his kidney function was really bad and that he needed to be admitted.
Feb 12 - We spent the first 2 nights in an area called observation unit. You were supposed to only be there for one night but we had to wait for an open room. The nurses were great, and teams and teams of doctors came in constantly. Jerry had an initial team assigned to him from students, to interns, to residents and so on. His kidney function was not improving with meds, his blood pressure was low, bilirubin was getting higher and they needed to get him in a room and maybe try dialysis. This is where I met the "Dr of death" This is the nickname that I gave her when I spoke to my family. I didn't like her. I felt like all she was telling me was how Jerry was not getting better and that things looked really bad. I wanted hope. HE wanted hope.
Feb 13 - 17 - Jerry was moved to his own room. It was huge and comfortable and had windows. Jerry was feeling worse, they took blood from him, so much and his blood was not clotting so he would bleed. They couldn't get any from his veins in his arms or wrists, so it was time to put in a central line. They also put in a port for his dialysis on the other side of his chest. He had so much medicine being pumped in him. He wouldn't eat, they restricted his fluids because his body was just getting more and more swollen. I remember how much he LOVED the apple juice. It was the highlight of his day to get that. They also did more scans, looking at his liver and lungs, kidneys and stomach. During this time we had a meeting. We met with the team which consisted of his oncologist, his hospital drs, kidney and gastro doctors, and the palliative care team. We tried to make a plan to start dialysis and try to get him home. This meeting was also to include the kids. We let Tyler sit in on the meeting and he had to hear the dr say that if Jerry didn't try this he would have days to live. We had a social worker come in and sit after the meeting. Jerry sat on the edge of the bed and we sat with Jay on the couch and told him that daddy was not getting better and that he might not live. I remember looking up at Jerry and he tried to get out of bed because he was crying. I don't even remember how I sat there for this conversation. I was just so determined to get him out of that hospital and get more time. I just wanted more time.
Dialysis went smoothly but didn't do to much help on the first night and by Feb 16th Jerry was bleeding in his stomach. They had to do an endoscopy. But in order to do that, we had to be aware that he would have a tube for breathing and he would go straight to the ICU after to be monitored before the tube came out. The reason for this was because Jerry was very confused. He was hardly talking and would try to get out of bed all the time, he would swing his leg off the bed all the time and I had to pick it back up about 50 times a day. He didn't know what day it was and he was frustrated. His kidneys and liver were not functioning well and the toxins in his body were building up. He did understand conversations and he did know that he was going to the ICU.
I didn't leave the hospital yet. I felt like I was awake all of these days. I didn't sleep, I listened for his movements or his breathing and the machines. Every beep made me jump up. I sat with him and directed all the Doctors and nurses around him and talked about what we wanted and made people leave if he didn't want them there. I cleaned him every day, and rubbed his head and face and kept telling him to fight. He had a few visitors during this time but I got to a point that I was so scared and called my mom and said please come now. I think I knew deep down I was close to losing him. The doctors then told me that I need to get any family there just in case. I called my mom in the morning and she was literally across the country that night. One of the last things I heard Jerry say was him greeting my mom. When she came in the room, he said "Thanks for coming out here" to her. She curled up on the chair and stayed close all night listening to the sounds the room. The next morning he was brought to get the endoscopy and I was able to escort him down there. We were in the room for the procedure and I talking to one of the nurses and Jerry said "Babe" kind of loud. He had not said much that morning, except "yes, no, and Ouch". I came over to him and held his hand and talked to him about seeing him soon. This was the last thing he ever said to me. "Babe"
When I had to see him in the ICU for the first time hooked up to machines, my mom was with me took a peek first to prepare me. She held my hand and when I saw him from the hallway I broke down and fell to the floor. How can he be laying there like this! How did I get here? was all I could think. One by one my family arrived. My sister, my best friend, and father in law. We all stayed close.
Nothing was helping, Jerrys body was shutting down. He had bleeding ulcers, and varices in his esophagus. His kidneys were just as bad and his liver was worse than ever. He had fluid in his lungs, around his heart. His hands were restrained and he was very agitated and had to keep his hands away from pulling out his tube. His ICU nurse said he would calm down when I spoke to him so I would stay close all the time. He knew we were there. He squeezed our hands a few times when we asked. He would calm when we played Bob Marley, or Jay-Z or even when his long time friend Jarret came and played some old school hip hop for him for about an hour. We tried to talk to him and tell him how much we loved him. I tried to keep the boys from seeing him this way until we knew it was the last time.
Feb 20th - I don't think I slept the night before because so much was always happening with medicines being administered and people in and out of the room. That morning, Jerrys heart rate spiked at about 6:30am. Nurses rushed in, my sister was there with me as we watched them push medicines in to slow his heart and raced in the crash cart. luckily before they had to use the crash cart his heart went back to a better rhythm. This is when I knew we were close to the end.
We had the boys come in and see him. Jerry squeezed their hands. He knew they were there. I cant imagine how hard it was for them to see their dad this way. I had family helping and social workers there helping explain things to Jay. We got to a point in the day when final decisions were made and we had to have someone explain to Jay how this day was going to end. I don't remember this at all. I am pretty sure I was not even there for the conversation and that I came in after and just held him. How do tell and 8 year old child that their daddy is not going to live until tomorrow. How does that child even process that? Tyler sat in on the meetings and just held my hand so tight. He cried with me and sat with me on the floor or the conference room when I just couldn't get up. How hard must that have been for him to hold his mother up while his dad is dying in the next room. I cry as I type this because I cant even fathom that feeling for them.
Jerry was given a lot of medication to keep him sedated so that as the tube came out, he would be comfortable. He was surrounded by family. We played "Three little birds" by Bob Marley and all stood around his bed holding hands and singing it to him. We hugged him and kissed him. Jay started crying so hard that I thought my feet were going to give out because every part of my body was breaking. In Jerrys last moments on this earth, I was able to get in the bed with him. Without wires and tubes and lay my head on his chest and just hold him. I kissed him endlessly and held him and listened to the his breathing start to slow down, and felt his heart start to slow. I told him how I loved him and how I would try to be ok and that I didn't want him in pain anymore. He then took his last breath. This moment....this is what is etched in my mind every day when I wake up. Death....what it looks like is horrible. To look at the love of your life and father of your kids and see that he is gone hurts so incredibly bad. I remember crying out...crying so hard for him.
How does this pain ease. How does going through this ever not hurt as much. I want so desperately to close my eyes and picture him laughing and smiling. When I close my eyes I see death. I see Jerry sick, I see him lifeless in my arms.
This is only a small portion of what transpired over the 9 days in the hospital. I remember a lot of it, and some I think I have blocked out. In the days after his death, I cant remember much. I had a lot of help, and just remember feeling so numb. I felt like I was in this fog and I was lost and couldn't find my way through the other side. I am thankful for my family being there to help me.
Jerry was full of life. He was our everything, and now he is gone. I don't know why I am here. I don't know why I was chosen to go through this. Jerry was everything to anyone who knew him. His smile, his genius, his wit. If you were lucky enough to have known him, then you know how much he is missed. So undeserving of any pain at all. Now we are here, left without him. I am left without a husband, a love, a friend, confidant. Til death do us part.
Today is a hard day for some reason, I feel like I have been on the verge of tears all day. Some days are just like that. I woke up with the vision that is in my head most mornings and it is the moments of Jerrys last breaths. Horrible...how can someone wake up to that every single day and get through the day? It physically hurts every morning to get out of bed. I used to roll over and see his face. I used to feel his arm around me or his leg touching mine. Now I sleep in this bed alone, without him and I can't picture snuggling with him. I see him in the bed sick, and hurting. Maybe this isn't a good day to write this entry...or maybe it will be so raw and emotional that it will help.
 |
| I don't post many of these since this is when he was sick. He was so skinny. But he was so happy this day. He was out in the sun, at the pier and just breathing in the California air. This was a happy day. |
February 11th 2017 - My mom and Step-dad were at our house in California They had come to help. I remember on the day that mom arrived, and when Step-dad arrived, (they came a week apart) that when they came up to the room to greet Jerry he cried when he saw them. Especially my mom. I couldn't understand his emotions then, but when I look back I feel like he knew something. I feel like deep down he knew he was not going to be on this earth for much longer. It makes me mad too. If he knew that, why didn't he hug us more, why didn't he kiss me and tell me he loved me. Why did he push us away? I have a lot of questions again that will never get answered.
So this was a Saturday. Jerry had a chemo treatment just a few days before and was feeling ok but his legs were swelling really bad. He had edema in his feet and legs and it was working its way up to his hips. He said he didn't feel good at all and wanted to go to the ER. I was hesitant about going because we had gone 2 times before for his legs and it turned out to be nothing. But we were not supposed take things lightly and if we were not sure about something we were instructed to go to the ER. We left the boys home with my parents and expected to be back later that day. On the way in I suggested that we go to to UCLA in Westwood rather than Santa Monica. It was bigger and just as far. We joked about changing it up a bit since we took this drive often. His feet were so swollen that he could barely get his shoes on and left the laces open. His legs were dripping which we learning was called "weeping edema". After we got the the ER he was processed very quickly. We also learned that Cancer patients do not wait long in the ER. After initial blood work and we were told that his kidney function was really bad and that he needed to be admitted.
Feb 12 - We spent the first 2 nights in an area called observation unit. You were supposed to only be there for one night but we had to wait for an open room. The nurses were great, and teams and teams of doctors came in constantly. Jerry had an initial team assigned to him from students, to interns, to residents and so on. His kidney function was not improving with meds, his blood pressure was low, bilirubin was getting higher and they needed to get him in a room and maybe try dialysis. This is where I met the "Dr of death" This is the nickname that I gave her when I spoke to my family. I didn't like her. I felt like all she was telling me was how Jerry was not getting better and that things looked really bad. I wanted hope. HE wanted hope.
Feb 13 - 17 - Jerry was moved to his own room. It was huge and comfortable and had windows. Jerry was feeling worse, they took blood from him, so much and his blood was not clotting so he would bleed. They couldn't get any from his veins in his arms or wrists, so it was time to put in a central line. They also put in a port for his dialysis on the other side of his chest. He had so much medicine being pumped in him. He wouldn't eat, they restricted his fluids because his body was just getting more and more swollen. I remember how much he LOVED the apple juice. It was the highlight of his day to get that. They also did more scans, looking at his liver and lungs, kidneys and stomach. During this time we had a meeting. We met with the team which consisted of his oncologist, his hospital drs, kidney and gastro doctors, and the palliative care team. We tried to make a plan to start dialysis and try to get him home. This meeting was also to include the kids. We let Tyler sit in on the meeting and he had to hear the dr say that if Jerry didn't try this he would have days to live. We had a social worker come in and sit after the meeting. Jerry sat on the edge of the bed and we sat with Jay on the couch and told him that daddy was not getting better and that he might not live. I remember looking up at Jerry and he tried to get out of bed because he was crying. I don't even remember how I sat there for this conversation. I was just so determined to get him out of that hospital and get more time. I just wanted more time.
Dialysis went smoothly but didn't do to much help on the first night and by Feb 16th Jerry was bleeding in his stomach. They had to do an endoscopy. But in order to do that, we had to be aware that he would have a tube for breathing and he would go straight to the ICU after to be monitored before the tube came out. The reason for this was because Jerry was very confused. He was hardly talking and would try to get out of bed all the time, he would swing his leg off the bed all the time and I had to pick it back up about 50 times a day. He didn't know what day it was and he was frustrated. His kidneys and liver were not functioning well and the toxins in his body were building up. He did understand conversations and he did know that he was going to the ICU.
I didn't leave the hospital yet. I felt like I was awake all of these days. I didn't sleep, I listened for his movements or his breathing and the machines. Every beep made me jump up. I sat with him and directed all the Doctors and nurses around him and talked about what we wanted and made people leave if he didn't want them there. I cleaned him every day, and rubbed his head and face and kept telling him to fight. He had a few visitors during this time but I got to a point that I was so scared and called my mom and said please come now. I think I knew deep down I was close to losing him. The doctors then told me that I need to get any family there just in case. I called my mom in the morning and she was literally across the country that night. One of the last things I heard Jerry say was him greeting my mom. When she came in the room, he said "Thanks for coming out here" to her. She curled up on the chair and stayed close all night listening to the sounds the room. The next morning he was brought to get the endoscopy and I was able to escort him down there. We were in the room for the procedure and I talking to one of the nurses and Jerry said "Babe" kind of loud. He had not said much that morning, except "yes, no, and Ouch". I came over to him and held his hand and talked to him about seeing him soon. This was the last thing he ever said to me. "Babe"
When I had to see him in the ICU for the first time hooked up to machines, my mom was with me took a peek first to prepare me. She held my hand and when I saw him from the hallway I broke down and fell to the floor. How can he be laying there like this! How did I get here? was all I could think. One by one my family arrived. My sister, my best friend, and father in law. We all stayed close.
Nothing was helping, Jerrys body was shutting down. He had bleeding ulcers, and varices in his esophagus. His kidneys were just as bad and his liver was worse than ever. He had fluid in his lungs, around his heart. His hands were restrained and he was very agitated and had to keep his hands away from pulling out his tube. His ICU nurse said he would calm down when I spoke to him so I would stay close all the time. He knew we were there. He squeezed our hands a few times when we asked. He would calm when we played Bob Marley, or Jay-Z or even when his long time friend Jarret came and played some old school hip hop for him for about an hour. We tried to talk to him and tell him how much we loved him. I tried to keep the boys from seeing him this way until we knew it was the last time.
Feb 20th - I don't think I slept the night before because so much was always happening with medicines being administered and people in and out of the room. That morning, Jerrys heart rate spiked at about 6:30am. Nurses rushed in, my sister was there with me as we watched them push medicines in to slow his heart and raced in the crash cart. luckily before they had to use the crash cart his heart went back to a better rhythm. This is when I knew we were close to the end.
We had the boys come in and see him. Jerry squeezed their hands. He knew they were there. I cant imagine how hard it was for them to see their dad this way. I had family helping and social workers there helping explain things to Jay. We got to a point in the day when final decisions were made and we had to have someone explain to Jay how this day was going to end. I don't remember this at all. I am pretty sure I was not even there for the conversation and that I came in after and just held him. How do tell and 8 year old child that their daddy is not going to live until tomorrow. How does that child even process that? Tyler sat in on the meetings and just held my hand so tight. He cried with me and sat with me on the floor or the conference room when I just couldn't get up. How hard must that have been for him to hold his mother up while his dad is dying in the next room. I cry as I type this because I cant even fathom that feeling for them.
Jerry was given a lot of medication to keep him sedated so that as the tube came out, he would be comfortable. He was surrounded by family. We played "Three little birds" by Bob Marley and all stood around his bed holding hands and singing it to him. We hugged him and kissed him. Jay started crying so hard that I thought my feet were going to give out because every part of my body was breaking. In Jerrys last moments on this earth, I was able to get in the bed with him. Without wires and tubes and lay my head on his chest and just hold him. I kissed him endlessly and held him and listened to the his breathing start to slow down, and felt his heart start to slow. I told him how I loved him and how I would try to be ok and that I didn't want him in pain anymore. He then took his last breath. This moment....this is what is etched in my mind every day when I wake up. Death....what it looks like is horrible. To look at the love of your life and father of your kids and see that he is gone hurts so incredibly bad. I remember crying out...crying so hard for him.
How does this pain ease. How does going through this ever not hurt as much. I want so desperately to close my eyes and picture him laughing and smiling. When I close my eyes I see death. I see Jerry sick, I see him lifeless in my arms.
This is only a small portion of what transpired over the 9 days in the hospital. I remember a lot of it, and some I think I have blocked out. In the days after his death, I cant remember much. I had a lot of help, and just remember feeling so numb. I felt like I was in this fog and I was lost and couldn't find my way through the other side. I am thankful for my family being there to help me.
Jerry was full of life. He was our everything, and now he is gone. I don't know why I am here. I don't know why I was chosen to go through this. Jerry was everything to anyone who knew him. His smile, his genius, his wit. If you were lucky enough to have known him, then you know how much he is missed. So undeserving of any pain at all. Now we are here, left without him. I am left without a husband, a love, a friend, confidant. Til death do us part.
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