"A head hung in despair cannot scan the horizon for God's provision." That is what I started my update with exactly a year before Rex died. He died on Aug. 10, 2007 and I sent an update on Aug. 10, 2006. I have been reading some of my old entries on the blog; out of curiosity, I wanted to see where we were a year before he died. I was a little shocked to see that my one and only entry in August 2006 was exactly one year before Rex died. As I re-read this update, I remember it being one of my most vivid updates. In this particular entry, I added Psalm 40. As I read this scripture again, it is just as comforting to me today as it was a year ago. I am glad that I have journaled and done these updates throughout these many months. It is something that I think is going to help me grieve and heal. It is going to help me remember.
Remembering is something that has become very important to me recently. When you think that no new memories will be made, remembering becomes crucial. With that, I am struggling with not being able to remember specific things. I don't want to get caught up in things that I can't change or add to, and I typically don't allow myself to have this unproductive thought pattern. I find myself trying to remember the last real conversation that Rex and I had; I want to remember the last kiss; I want to remember the last hug. I want to remember the last thing we did together as a family. I can't specifically remember them, and it bothers me. One thing I do remember is our last real prayer time together. I want to remember more. He slept so much those last few days; I spent a great deal of my time with Rachael and others that most of it is a blur. I don't know why the "last time" holds so much significance. I don't know what is typical or not typical through grief.
Right in line with that are the "one more time" thoughts. I wish I could just have one more conversation, one more kiss, one more hug, one more outing together, one more meal together. Just one more...
I have been thinking about how much I was going to reveal about my thoughts and struggles. I have shared them pretty openly in the past; the battle is over for Rex now, but I am still in this race. I don't want my struggles to turn into the devil's playing ground trying to keep me from living a victorious life. So, I actually thought that I would keep my thought struggles to myself. Then, as I started typing this email. I let it out anyway.
God is so faithful. Just as soon as I got done typing my struggle with remembering, a memory of that last week came flooding back into my mind. I remember the last time we went outside as a family. We went for a golf cart ride. The kids took their bikes with us; we went to the church next door and we rode around on the golf cart while the kids rode their bikes. We were trying to get Rex outside to get some Vitamin D. It was a happy time; the girls were so happy to be outside all together. Thank you, Lord, you are so gracious.
Rex was our creepy crawlie hero. I grew up playing with creepy crawlies; somewhere along the way, I developed an aversion to creepy crawlies. I don't like to see them nor do I want them in the house. In the past, whenever a creepy crawlie was discovered, especially if I saw it first, there would typically be a scream followed with a plea for Rex to save me. I have known that this is not productive for our girls because they are probably going to respond to creepy crawlies the same way I do. But, I still would find myself screaming and having fits. Rex took it in stride. It became a humorous thing as he would come to save the day. When the girls were around, he would make a big deal of it and proclaim that he was "Super daddy" and here he came to save the day. The girls loved it; then, he would take care of the creepy crawlie. He was our hero.
We had a creepy crawlie moment today and Rex wasn't here to save the day. A lizard was in the house; when I first saw it, I screamed in typical fashion as it startled me. Of course, the girls came running to see what was wrong. I was still screaming, "Lizard, lizard, there's a lizard in the house." Naturally, they started screaming and jumping up and down too. What were we going to do? Suddenly, I realized that Rex wasn't here. I had to just walk out of the room to get my composure. When I came back in, the girls had gone and gotten the brooms and had pushed the furniture all over the room trying to find that lizard so they could save us. They were running to and fro thinking that would help them, that maybe it would keep the lizard from getting them. I had to come back in and calmly explain that the lizard was not going to hurt us; it would be ok. That lizard is still in this house somewhere! Ugh!
Those of you that came to the receiving and funeral probably saw the pictures that we had of our family taken just a week before Rex died. We didn't plan this at all. God laid it on Sheri Allison's heart to come take some pictures of us in our home. She did an absolutely wonderful job. I will forever be grateful to her for doing this for us as it became the last time we were able to capture moments of Rex with us, especially moments including Rachael. You can look at these pictures on her website. http://www.sheriallison.com/ go to "Recent Sessions" and then "RexDonna." I think you will be delighted with them like we are. I've looked at them hundreds of times. Just to keep the confusion at a minimum, the last five pics have an extra in them -- my niece's little girl, Tori.
I would like to end this email with Psalm 40, the same scripture I put in my email exactly a year before Rex left us to spend eternity with Jesus.
Psalm 40 1 I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me, And heard my cry. 2 He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, Out of the miry clay, And set my feet upon a rock, And established my steps. 3 He has put a new song in my mouth-- Praise to our God; Many will see it and fear, And will trust in the Lord. 4 Blessed is that man who makes the Lord his trust, And does not respect the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies. 5 Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works Which You have done; And Your thoughts toward us Cannot be recounted to You in order; If I would declare and speak of them, They are more than can be numbered. 6 Sacrifice and offering You did not desire; My ears You have opened. Burnt offering and sin offering You did not require. 7 Then I said, "Behold, I come; In the scroll of the book it is written of me. 8 I delight to do Your will, O my God, And Your law is within my heart." 9 I have proclaimed the good news of righteousness In the great assembly; Indeed, I do not restrain my lips, O Lord, You Yourself know. 10 I have not hidden Your righteousness within my heart; I have declared Your faithfulness and Your salvation; I have not concealed Your lovingkindness and Your truth From the great assembly. 11 Do not withhold Your tender mercies from me, O Lord; Let Your lovingkindness and Your truth continually preserve me. 12 For innumerable evils have surrounded me; My iniquities have overtaken me, so that I am not able to look up; They are more than the hairs of my head; Therefore my heart fails me. 13 Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me; O Lord, make haste to help me! 14 Let them be ashamed and brought to mutual confusion Who seek to destroy my life; Let them be driven backward and brought to dishonor Who wish me evil. 15 Let them be confounded because of their shame, Who say to me, "Aha, aha!" 16 Let all those who seek You rejoice and be glad in You; Let such as love Your salvation say continually, "The Lord be magnified!" 17 But I am poor and needy; Yet the Lord thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; Do not delay, O my God.
I hope that my life will always declare God's faithfulness, salvation, and lovingkindness as Rex' life did until the very end.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Psalm 29:11 says that, "The Lord will give strength to His people; the Lord will bless His people with peace." I have been given strength beyond understanding these last 19 months; I have been blessed with a peace that I can't explain.
I can't trace God's hand right now, but the peace I have lets me trust His heart.
God has given us much grace these last several months, but specifically this past month. Our family has endured some difficult days as we had the birth of our new daughter, Rachael, only to be followed with the physical death of Rex just two weeks later. It is my prayer that my children will be able to grieve the loss of their dad and still know that God is in control and loves them. It is my prayer that they will know that God has not forgotten or failed them; I want them to understand that God has a plan specifically for each of them through this and that it is a great plan.
We were able to get away for several days after the funeral and take a trip to the beach. My dad had had this trip planned for several months for himself. Had that trip not already been planned, I would have never thought to take a trip for us; even that was God's timing. I believe that it was the best thing we could have done; it helped our family with the transition. I don't know what the day after the funeral would have been like for us had we not gotten up to pack for a few days at the beach.
I have tried to be acutely aware of my childrens' needs these last two weeks, so that I can meet their needs in the best way possible. Erin has been my protector. She, being the oldest of my children, has taken it upon herself to try to meet my needs by helping me with things that Rex would have done. She tries to protect me emotionally from things that might trigger me missing Rex. I have to release her daily from trying to carry such a big responsibility. Amber is my reflector. She wants to reflect on everything that made our life a family. She is pulling out memories from all over the house and talking about each of those memories. She smells his clothes. She writes notes. She gets affirmation from remembering. Lindsey is my thinker. Surprisingly, she has talked the most of Rex. She asks lots of questions about her daddy. She is acutely aware of things that surprise me for a 4 year old. For instance, Lindsey threw her hands up one time and said "Great, now I can't get saved or baptized." She was remembering that her daddy had baptized both Erin and Amber; in Lindsey's mind, that meant that she couldn't participate because her daddy wasn't here to baptize her. She is thinking things through, processing what it means for daddy to be gone. Rachael is our therapy. There is no doubt in my mind that God allowed her life to offset the loss of life, not to replace Rex but to bring healing to our hearts, to bring each of us joy in the midst of sadness.
I have had a lot of time to reflect over these past several months myself. I know it's not productive to dwell on "what ifs" or "if onlys", but I suppose that sometimes it's normal to do so. I have only had a few of these; one of my big "if only" moments was me feeling like I had failed Rex as a caretaker by not recognizing how close to death he was and not taking him to the hospital sooner. I felt that I had done him an injustice by not getting him some medical care sooner. I know that God numbers our days; I believe that regardless of anything I could do or could have done as Rex' caretaker, when God says it's your time, it is your time and nothing can interfere with that. Still, I felt I had failed Rex by not getting him medical care that could have spared him some uncomfortable time and allowed him to feel a little better at the end. Our family dr. reminded me this past Monday that Rex died exactly how he wanted. He spent his last days at home with his family, but he didn't die in our home. I found great comfort in that truth.
I had actually thought about the likelihood of Rex' death over this past month, and I was concerned about him dying in our home. I didn't want him to die in our home. I didn't want my kids to always remember every time they were in our home that their daddy died in that chair or that bed in that room. My mom died in this home; even though I was an adult at the time and didn't live in this home then, it was a memory I carried with me for a long time every time I came to visit. It still bears strong thoughts for me when I think of her. Having that memory myself, I didn't want that for my young children knowing that we are probably going to be living here a long time. I fretted a little about how things were going to pan out because I also didn't want Rex to spend a great deal of his last days in a hospital. God had it all worked out; He took care of my concerns.
Another "if only" moment had to do with something that I wanted to carry with me should he die. I wanted to have his voice saved somewhere that I could hear anytime I wanted to remember him or feel close to him. I remember the last couple of months that he was alive thinking that I needed to save a voicemail from him on my cell phone so that I would have it. But, I thought there would be another time, so being the organized person that I like to be, I deleted them as I checked them. Last week, I was upset with myself because I realized that I had not saved any of his voicemails. Then, when we got home from the beach, Erin picked up Rex' cell phone because she wanted to look at the flix (15 sec. videos) that were on his phone. I didn't think anything of it; most all of them were taken by the kids of themselves. There was a new video that we had never seen. The last video was one that Rex had made; he had taken it on July 13th, and it was a message to me. All he says is, "Donna, I love you, I really do" and then he smiles. I lost it when I saw that. Rex knew me well, and he knew that I would want to carry that with me. He was thinking of me. I sent that video to my phone so I can carry it with me.
I think there is a difference between losing someone through an accident or sudden unforeseen event and losing someone through a long term or even short term illness. Illness gives loved ones a chance to say goodbye; illness gives you a chance to express your love to one another; illness gives you a chance to savor the day. Illness gives you a chance to realize what is important and change priorities where necessary. Illness gives you a chance to have no regrets. Illness makes losing someone a gradual loss instead of a sudden one.
We gradually lost Rex from October 2006 to July 2007. Even though he was diagnosed January 2006, we really didn't see a loss of life at all until October when he started experiencing pain. Then, as weeks went by his pain increasingly got worse, his physical health deteriorated more and more, he got weaker and weaker, and he became more and more symptomatic. Rex' last three months, truthfully, gave us a taste of what life was going to be like without him as the girls and I began to do some things without him. There were times we went to family gatherings that he didn't feel up to attending; there were times we went to church when he didn't feel well enough to go; there were times we played while he sat or slept. Because of this, I think it may take a little longer for the numbness to wear off or longer for the reality of the loss to sink in. For me, I have stayed very busy caring for a newborn and haven't had much time to sit let alone grieve. My thoughts are continuously on Rex all day long, but my grieving has barely begun. I find it very hard to have a conversation without talking about him. It seems like every topic of conversation sparks a memory of him.
Continue to pray for our family as you have been so faithful to do. I feel God's presence and protection around us each day.
I don't know what the future holds, but I do know who holds the future. I am looking to God to direct my path in the days ahead. Who holds your future?
Donna Meadows
I can't trace God's hand right now, but the peace I have lets me trust His heart.
God has given us much grace these last several months, but specifically this past month. Our family has endured some difficult days as we had the birth of our new daughter, Rachael, only to be followed with the physical death of Rex just two weeks later. It is my prayer that my children will be able to grieve the loss of their dad and still know that God is in control and loves them. It is my prayer that they will know that God has not forgotten or failed them; I want them to understand that God has a plan specifically for each of them through this and that it is a great plan.
We were able to get away for several days after the funeral and take a trip to the beach. My dad had had this trip planned for several months for himself. Had that trip not already been planned, I would have never thought to take a trip for us; even that was God's timing. I believe that it was the best thing we could have done; it helped our family with the transition. I don't know what the day after the funeral would have been like for us had we not gotten up to pack for a few days at the beach.
I have tried to be acutely aware of my childrens' needs these last two weeks, so that I can meet their needs in the best way possible. Erin has been my protector. She, being the oldest of my children, has taken it upon herself to try to meet my needs by helping me with things that Rex would have done. She tries to protect me emotionally from things that might trigger me missing Rex. I have to release her daily from trying to carry such a big responsibility. Amber is my reflector. She wants to reflect on everything that made our life a family. She is pulling out memories from all over the house and talking about each of those memories. She smells his clothes. She writes notes. She gets affirmation from remembering. Lindsey is my thinker. Surprisingly, she has talked the most of Rex. She asks lots of questions about her daddy. She is acutely aware of things that surprise me for a 4 year old. For instance, Lindsey threw her hands up one time and said "Great, now I can't get saved or baptized." She was remembering that her daddy had baptized both Erin and Amber; in Lindsey's mind, that meant that she couldn't participate because her daddy wasn't here to baptize her. She is thinking things through, processing what it means for daddy to be gone. Rachael is our therapy. There is no doubt in my mind that God allowed her life to offset the loss of life, not to replace Rex but to bring healing to our hearts, to bring each of us joy in the midst of sadness.
I have had a lot of time to reflect over these past several months myself. I know it's not productive to dwell on "what ifs" or "if onlys", but I suppose that sometimes it's normal to do so. I have only had a few of these; one of my big "if only" moments was me feeling like I had failed Rex as a caretaker by not recognizing how close to death he was and not taking him to the hospital sooner. I felt that I had done him an injustice by not getting him some medical care sooner. I know that God numbers our days; I believe that regardless of anything I could do or could have done as Rex' caretaker, when God says it's your time, it is your time and nothing can interfere with that. Still, I felt I had failed Rex by not getting him medical care that could have spared him some uncomfortable time and allowed him to feel a little better at the end. Our family dr. reminded me this past Monday that Rex died exactly how he wanted. He spent his last days at home with his family, but he didn't die in our home. I found great comfort in that truth.
I had actually thought about the likelihood of Rex' death over this past month, and I was concerned about him dying in our home. I didn't want him to die in our home. I didn't want my kids to always remember every time they were in our home that their daddy died in that chair or that bed in that room. My mom died in this home; even though I was an adult at the time and didn't live in this home then, it was a memory I carried with me for a long time every time I came to visit. It still bears strong thoughts for me when I think of her. Having that memory myself, I didn't want that for my young children knowing that we are probably going to be living here a long time. I fretted a little about how things were going to pan out because I also didn't want Rex to spend a great deal of his last days in a hospital. God had it all worked out; He took care of my concerns.
Another "if only" moment had to do with something that I wanted to carry with me should he die. I wanted to have his voice saved somewhere that I could hear anytime I wanted to remember him or feel close to him. I remember the last couple of months that he was alive thinking that I needed to save a voicemail from him on my cell phone so that I would have it. But, I thought there would be another time, so being the organized person that I like to be, I deleted them as I checked them. Last week, I was upset with myself because I realized that I had not saved any of his voicemails. Then, when we got home from the beach, Erin picked up Rex' cell phone because she wanted to look at the flix (15 sec. videos) that were on his phone. I didn't think anything of it; most all of them were taken by the kids of themselves. There was a new video that we had never seen. The last video was one that Rex had made; he had taken it on July 13th, and it was a message to me. All he says is, "Donna, I love you, I really do" and then he smiles. I lost it when I saw that. Rex knew me well, and he knew that I would want to carry that with me. He was thinking of me. I sent that video to my phone so I can carry it with me.
I think there is a difference between losing someone through an accident or sudden unforeseen event and losing someone through a long term or even short term illness. Illness gives loved ones a chance to say goodbye; illness gives you a chance to express your love to one another; illness gives you a chance to savor the day. Illness gives you a chance to realize what is important and change priorities where necessary. Illness gives you a chance to have no regrets. Illness makes losing someone a gradual loss instead of a sudden one.
We gradually lost Rex from October 2006 to July 2007. Even though he was diagnosed January 2006, we really didn't see a loss of life at all until October when he started experiencing pain. Then, as weeks went by his pain increasingly got worse, his physical health deteriorated more and more, he got weaker and weaker, and he became more and more symptomatic. Rex' last three months, truthfully, gave us a taste of what life was going to be like without him as the girls and I began to do some things without him. There were times we went to family gatherings that he didn't feel up to attending; there were times we went to church when he didn't feel well enough to go; there were times we played while he sat or slept. Because of this, I think it may take a little longer for the numbness to wear off or longer for the reality of the loss to sink in. For me, I have stayed very busy caring for a newborn and haven't had much time to sit let alone grieve. My thoughts are continuously on Rex all day long, but my grieving has barely begun. I find it very hard to have a conversation without talking about him. It seems like every topic of conversation sparks a memory of him.
Continue to pray for our family as you have been so faithful to do. I feel God's presence and protection around us each day.
I don't know what the future holds, but I do know who holds the future. I am looking to God to direct my path in the days ahead. Who holds your future?
Donna Meadows
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Much of the last 30 hours have been both a whirlwind and surreal. Even though we knew that this day was most likely coming and could have prepared better for these next couple of days, it was something that I couldn't face until forced to do so. I guess for me preparing for a funeral before death is synonymous with giving up. And, I couldn't give up until the very end.
I hadn't planned on sending an email out. I originally started these emails to be entirely informative in nature, but they have turned into so much more, at least for me they have. I have always known that writing is very therapeutic for me. When I am anxious or frustrated or confused or mad, I deal with it by writing. I have done that for years; the difference is that with Rex' illness, my writings have been seen by others' eyes. All my prior writings were for my eyes only, and most of the time, were thrown away once written. So you may have to bear with me a little while longer as I share my heart.
When I have not been occupied with talking with someone or taking care of funeral arrangements, my thoughts have been consumed with Rex' last days here with us. As I look back on his last hours and ponder what his thoughts were, I think I have realized that he knew he was going to die.
I remember talking with him probably six months ago and telling him that he scared me a little being so strong. I told him that he had such a high tolerance for pain and illness that he would probably be almost dead before I even knew he needed medical care. And, of course, he showed that to be true. I shared in my last email some of his lab readings, but I didn't tell you that his liver and kidneys were already in failure when we got to the hospital.
It wasn't until the hospital had put Rex in ICU that I learned how close he was to death. Up until then, I was just aware that he was very ill and really only knew that his potassium levels were very high and that his blood pressure was very low. Once he was in ICU, the dr. sat down with me and talked about Rex' health. He asked me what my understanding of Rex' health was. I basically said that I knew he was dying, but I didn't know how close to death he was. The dr. then asked me if I wanted him to be totally honest with me. I said yes; he then told me that Rex' liver and kidneys had failed and that they would do everything they could for him, but he could die in the night, the next day or in a week. It really depended on whether the medicines and treatments they would give would do any good, but that the treatment they could give was really just a bandaid. It would not reverse his illness or fix his health.
Shortly, after being admitted to ICU, I had my friend who was keeping the girls bring them back to the hospital to say goodbye. I talked with them and explained to them that their daddy was very very ill and very close to death. Erin and Amber immediately started crying; Lindsey just watched them cry; she mainly listened and observed me, Erin, and Amber. I explained to them that I didn't know why God was allowing their daddy to die, but that he wouldn't be sick anymore once he was in heaven with Jesus. I told them that he had fought this illness with everything that he had because he wanted to be here with us. I held them and hugged them as they cried and told them that I was sorry that they had to experience this hurt in their life, that I hurt for them. I told them that I wanted them to go hug their daddy and tell them that they loved him and say goodbye. So, we went to see him; each one of the girls hugged their daddy and told them that they loved him -- Erin and Amber cried through this; Lindsey was a little confused and hesitant. Rex was able to say a few words to them that I hope they will be able to carry with them. He told them that he loved them, that he was proud of them, that God was still in control, and to love their momma. They didn't want to stay in there with him; it was really hard for them to see his very gaunt and sick body. That is not how they wanted to see or remember their daddy. I am glad that they had those few moments with him. Rachael, being two weeks old, will never know or have any memory of her daddy; but one thing she will know is that her daddy loved her and named her completely by himself.
The nurses and doctors were giving Rex stuff to draw the potassium out of his body; they had given him cortisol to get his adrenals to function; they were giving him fluids to hydrate his body, hoping to jumpstart his kidneys. They were giving him Dopamine to bring his blood pressure up. They were giving him some strong antibiotics to fight infection in his body. They were hoping that by offsetting the adrenal insufficiency with cortisol and giving the fluids for dehydration they could flush the toxins in his body. After several hours, it became apparent that it was not going to help. He was receiving a lot of fluids. In several hours time, Rex had just drops of urine output. His kidneys were not responding. The potassium and ammonia levels were not lowering. At this point, I really didn't think he would live through the night.
By the early hours of the morning, we (Terry - Rex' brother, Robin - Rex' sister, and I) had reached a point where we didn't want to see Rex suffer and gave him permission to let go. As hours went by, Rex continued to breathe and his heart continued to beat. The nurses began to discontinue corrective treatment and instead focused on palliative care to make him comfortable in the time he had left.
Shortly, before his death, as many family and friends were gathered in Rex' ICU room, I had this sudden sense of Rex' presence in the room, as if he were outside his body looking over the room. He was physically there in his bed unresponsive and taking one breath after another while his pulse was very weak and his blood pressure very low, but his presence was suddenly very strong to me. I felt that Rex was very aware of who was in the room and in that moment, I knew he wanted everyone to leave. Almost immediately, I asked to be left alone. Once we were alone, I climbed up into his bed as best as I could. I held him and gave him my goodbye talk. I had already told him that I would miss him and that he could let go -- that was me giving him my tearful, agonizing, dont-want-you-to-suffer-anymore release. This talk was a little different. It was a very calm conversation that I had with him where I told him how I felt about him. I told him how glad I was to have known and been married to him. I told him that God had blessed my life tremendously by bringing us together. I told him that he had been a wonderful husband and father; I told him that I would miss him terribly, and I hated to see him go. I told Rex that I loved him, and I kissed him. As soon as I kissed him, he gasped this big deep breath; moments later his heart stopped beating.
It became apparent to me during the night, that the 5 stones were his 5 girls -- me, Erin, Amber, Lindsey, and Rachael. I don't know what this means because I was looking for stones that would heal Rex in this physical life. It will be interesting to come to understand God's purpose through this.
I sat in his room near his body for the next hour. I mainly sat there numb. When I finally worked up the ability to leave, I went to touch his body one more time. I held his hand, rubbed his leg, touched his chest and hugged his body; I was so broken because I knew that this was the last time I would feel the warmth of his body. This inevitable end had pervaded my thoughts over Rex' last hours. There would be no more smiles, no more memories made together, no more conversations. There would be no more hugs and kisses. There would be no more tender touches of affection. I would not feel his arms around me nor would I hold his hand. It hurt so much to know that I was touching his warm body for the last time. I can't even describe the pounding anguish I felt deep in my heart. It drained me to experience it, and it drains me to express it.
I know that there will be some really difficult days ahead. We have begun a different chapter in our family. I must admit: I have some fears about raising my girls alone. I also know that I have to live one day at a time.
I know that God's grace is sufficient,
Donna Meadows
I hadn't planned on sending an email out. I originally started these emails to be entirely informative in nature, but they have turned into so much more, at least for me they have. I have always known that writing is very therapeutic for me. When I am anxious or frustrated or confused or mad, I deal with it by writing. I have done that for years; the difference is that with Rex' illness, my writings have been seen by others' eyes. All my prior writings were for my eyes only, and most of the time, were thrown away once written. So you may have to bear with me a little while longer as I share my heart.
When I have not been occupied with talking with someone or taking care of funeral arrangements, my thoughts have been consumed with Rex' last days here with us. As I look back on his last hours and ponder what his thoughts were, I think I have realized that he knew he was going to die.
I remember talking with him probably six months ago and telling him that he scared me a little being so strong. I told him that he had such a high tolerance for pain and illness that he would probably be almost dead before I even knew he needed medical care. And, of course, he showed that to be true. I shared in my last email some of his lab readings, but I didn't tell you that his liver and kidneys were already in failure when we got to the hospital.
It wasn't until the hospital had put Rex in ICU that I learned how close he was to death. Up until then, I was just aware that he was very ill and really only knew that his potassium levels were very high and that his blood pressure was very low. Once he was in ICU, the dr. sat down with me and talked about Rex' health. He asked me what my understanding of Rex' health was. I basically said that I knew he was dying, but I didn't know how close to death he was. The dr. then asked me if I wanted him to be totally honest with me. I said yes; he then told me that Rex' liver and kidneys had failed and that they would do everything they could for him, but he could die in the night, the next day or in a week. It really depended on whether the medicines and treatments they would give would do any good, but that the treatment they could give was really just a bandaid. It would not reverse his illness or fix his health.
Shortly, after being admitted to ICU, I had my friend who was keeping the girls bring them back to the hospital to say goodbye. I talked with them and explained to them that their daddy was very very ill and very close to death. Erin and Amber immediately started crying; Lindsey just watched them cry; she mainly listened and observed me, Erin, and Amber. I explained to them that I didn't know why God was allowing their daddy to die, but that he wouldn't be sick anymore once he was in heaven with Jesus. I told them that he had fought this illness with everything that he had because he wanted to be here with us. I held them and hugged them as they cried and told them that I was sorry that they had to experience this hurt in their life, that I hurt for them. I told them that I wanted them to go hug their daddy and tell them that they loved him and say goodbye. So, we went to see him; each one of the girls hugged their daddy and told them that they loved him -- Erin and Amber cried through this; Lindsey was a little confused and hesitant. Rex was able to say a few words to them that I hope they will be able to carry with them. He told them that he loved them, that he was proud of them, that God was still in control, and to love their momma. They didn't want to stay in there with him; it was really hard for them to see his very gaunt and sick body. That is not how they wanted to see or remember their daddy. I am glad that they had those few moments with him. Rachael, being two weeks old, will never know or have any memory of her daddy; but one thing she will know is that her daddy loved her and named her completely by himself.
The nurses and doctors were giving Rex stuff to draw the potassium out of his body; they had given him cortisol to get his adrenals to function; they were giving him fluids to hydrate his body, hoping to jumpstart his kidneys. They were giving him Dopamine to bring his blood pressure up. They were giving him some strong antibiotics to fight infection in his body. They were hoping that by offsetting the adrenal insufficiency with cortisol and giving the fluids for dehydration they could flush the toxins in his body. After several hours, it became apparent that it was not going to help. He was receiving a lot of fluids. In several hours time, Rex had just drops of urine output. His kidneys were not responding. The potassium and ammonia levels were not lowering. At this point, I really didn't think he would live through the night.
By the early hours of the morning, we (Terry - Rex' brother, Robin - Rex' sister, and I) had reached a point where we didn't want to see Rex suffer and gave him permission to let go. As hours went by, Rex continued to breathe and his heart continued to beat. The nurses began to discontinue corrective treatment and instead focused on palliative care to make him comfortable in the time he had left.
Shortly, before his death, as many family and friends were gathered in Rex' ICU room, I had this sudden sense of Rex' presence in the room, as if he were outside his body looking over the room. He was physically there in his bed unresponsive and taking one breath after another while his pulse was very weak and his blood pressure very low, but his presence was suddenly very strong to me. I felt that Rex was very aware of who was in the room and in that moment, I knew he wanted everyone to leave. Almost immediately, I asked to be left alone. Once we were alone, I climbed up into his bed as best as I could. I held him and gave him my goodbye talk. I had already told him that I would miss him and that he could let go -- that was me giving him my tearful, agonizing, dont-want-you-to-suffer-anymore release. This talk was a little different. It was a very calm conversation that I had with him where I told him how I felt about him. I told him how glad I was to have known and been married to him. I told him that God had blessed my life tremendously by bringing us together. I told him that he had been a wonderful husband and father; I told him that I would miss him terribly, and I hated to see him go. I told Rex that I loved him, and I kissed him. As soon as I kissed him, he gasped this big deep breath; moments later his heart stopped beating.
It became apparent to me during the night, that the 5 stones were his 5 girls -- me, Erin, Amber, Lindsey, and Rachael. I don't know what this means because I was looking for stones that would heal Rex in this physical life. It will be interesting to come to understand God's purpose through this.
I sat in his room near his body for the next hour. I mainly sat there numb. When I finally worked up the ability to leave, I went to touch his body one more time. I held his hand, rubbed his leg, touched his chest and hugged his body; I was so broken because I knew that this was the last time I would feel the warmth of his body. This inevitable end had pervaded my thoughts over Rex' last hours. There would be no more smiles, no more memories made together, no more conversations. There would be no more hugs and kisses. There would be no more tender touches of affection. I would not feel his arms around me nor would I hold his hand. It hurt so much to know that I was touching his warm body for the last time. I can't even describe the pounding anguish I felt deep in my heart. It drained me to experience it, and it drains me to express it.
I know that there will be some really difficult days ahead. We have begun a different chapter in our family. I must admit: I have some fears about raising my girls alone. I also know that I have to live one day at a time.
I know that God's grace is sufficient,
Donna Meadows
Friday, August 10, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
It is with great sadness for us and rejoicing for Rex that I tell you that Rex passed away at 12:30pm today (Friday, August 10th); he was an incredibly strong person.
It became apparent to me that he was dehydrated on Thursday afternoon as he stumbled on a trip to the bathroom and said that he was dizzy. I called our family dr. to see if he could authorize fluids. He called the hospital to give them a heads up so that we wouldn't have to do the typical ER wait. We thought he would be able to get fluids and then come back home. We were admitted around 4pm. Once there, we learned that he was very very ill. It is unbelievable that he was even coherent at all; his blood pressure was so low that he was in shock (upon admission the top number was only 40); his ammonia levels were extremely high (200); his sodium levels were very low (115); his bilirubin was very very high (38) -- it is really a miracle that he was not in a coma state with any of these levels by themselves. Then, with them all being this extreme, it is even more of a miracle that he was alive.
He was aware of his surroundings right up until the last few hours. He was not able to always communicate clearly to us, but overall, he was able to respond to us intermittently throughout the night and early morning hours.
I am numb for the most part right now. I know that this update will find many of you in shock because of how quickly his downhill spiral was. I will update the funeral arrangements once they are finalized. I just wanted to go ahead and let you know that Rex is with King Jesus now.
I do not take your care, concern, and prayers for us lightly. I feel very blessed to have been cared for so much this past year and a half.
While I can't trace God's hand in this, I do trust His heart.
Donna Meadows
It became apparent to me that he was dehydrated on Thursday afternoon as he stumbled on a trip to the bathroom and said that he was dizzy. I called our family dr. to see if he could authorize fluids. He called the hospital to give them a heads up so that we wouldn't have to do the typical ER wait. We thought he would be able to get fluids and then come back home. We were admitted around 4pm. Once there, we learned that he was very very ill. It is unbelievable that he was even coherent at all; his blood pressure was so low that he was in shock (upon admission the top number was only 40); his ammonia levels were extremely high (200); his sodium levels were very low (115); his bilirubin was very very high (38) -- it is really a miracle that he was not in a coma state with any of these levels by themselves. Then, with them all being this extreme, it is even more of a miracle that he was alive.
He was aware of his surroundings right up until the last few hours. He was not able to always communicate clearly to us, but overall, he was able to respond to us intermittently throughout the night and early morning hours.
I am numb for the most part right now. I know that this update will find many of you in shock because of how quickly his downhill spiral was. I will update the funeral arrangements once they are finalized. I just wanted to go ahead and let you know that Rex is with King Jesus now.
I do not take your care, concern, and prayers for us lightly. I feel very blessed to have been cared for so much this past year and a half.
While I can't trace God's hand in this, I do trust His heart.
Donna Meadows
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Rex took a distinct turn for the worse on July 17, 2007. He had a fairly good weekend before that, and a pretty good Monday on the 16th; he had even commented about feeling pretty good on that Monday. On Tuesday, he spent the better part of the day in bed. By Friday, July 20th, he had developed jaundice in his face, so we knew that something was up with his liver. On Monday, July 23rd, he had blood work done that showed his liver functions and bilirubin were really high. His dr. sent him to the hospital to have another CT scan done; we still don't have the full report, but the preliminary report showed quite a bit of activity in his lymph nodes in his abdominal area, particularly around his liver. His liver showed spots, as well. The swollen lymph nodes around his liver appear to be clogging off his biliary ducts which is causing the bile to back up. The back up of bile is causing Rex his extreme nausea. The extreme nausea is keeping him from eating. He currently eats about 6-7 bites of food a day, and he does this by sheer will; he dry heaves several times 
a day from the nausea. He sleeps a great deal of the day. He has also developed peripheal swelling in the lower part of his body, starting with his lower abdominal area down to his feet. You can't even tell he has ankles because of the swelling.He is literally starving to death right now because he doesn't eat much. I do get him to drink more than I can get him to eat, so I can juice for him and make him smoothies. He seems to be able to tolerate that. I take capsules of supplements and open them up and pour them into his drinks to try to get his body nourished to offset the lack of eating. It is a daily struggle.
Because he feels so bad, he really has no concept of time. If I ask him if he wants something, he always answers me with "in just a minute", then his minute turns into hours as he sleeps. I hate to wake him, so I end up waiting until he opens his eyes again. Doing something as simple as taking a shower totally wears him out to where he has to follow it with a few hours of sleep.
It is so hard to watch his body slowly dying. I know that his health can still be restored, it doesn't have that appearance now nor does it seem that it will happen. We talk about it sometimes when Rex is awake, whether God is going to allow him to live or not. Regardless of his terminal prognosis, we know God is the giver of life and He alone numbers our days. With that being said, there is hope until the last breath.
Sunday night, I broke down to a level I haven't ever been to before. I held Rex and sobbed for his life. I cried out to God for over an hour asking for God's favor, mercy, and healing, declaring God's victory over evil, quoting promises from the Bible, asking for His presence in our home and asking God to bind any evil influence from our lives and our home. There were a few times that I couldn't speak at all because I was overcome with emotion, and Rex would fill in those gaps with praise to God and pleas for his protection. As I sit here and try to describe those moments, it is difficult to put into words. I have never felt so helpless or desperate as I was totally broken before God. I laid there and told God everything that I felt, everything that I wanted, everything that I needed; I have cried out to God before, but this was with deep emotions that I didn't know existed or could be felt; I can't even really explain it. And, while it was painful to acknowledge and declare my insecurities to Him, I know that this is exactly what God wants from us. I know that when we are humbled before Him, then He can use us and work in our lives. At some point, I drifted off to sleep in total exhaustion. I slept peacefully. And, I woke up feeling refreshed and filled with hope.
Rex has such a countenance of grace. His attitude is remarkable. He is not angry, nor does he seem fearful. He has peace. He has not given up. He just knows that his life fully rests in God's hands, and Rex trusts that. I almost think that God has removed any fretfulness from Rex as Rex sees me take care of him and pray for him and cry over him. He does not complain at all. I am not really sure how much pain he is in because he doesn't mention it. The bigger issue is his nausea these days. When I do things for him, he always gives me a smile and thanks me. He used to not ask anything of me because he felt I had too much on my plate; I think that he has finally realized that it is a privilege for me to care for him, and so he will ask me to massage his legs and rub his back and get things for him.
As I mentioned before, we haven't gotten the full report from Rex' CT scan done on July 23rd. We missed his appt. last Monday; I thought it was this week; instead it was last week. Neither he nor I really care to hear the full report; the only reason we even had the scan done was to see if there was anything emergency related that needed to be done for Rex. Once we learned that the scan showed a progression of his disease, I didn't want to hear anymore. Rex doesn't want to know what it says either. We know what it means -- he is already a terminal case in man's eyes and this is just a reminder that he has reached the next notch toward death in this nasty disease. Because of this, I haven't called to reschedule his appt. yet.
Throughout this past year and a half, there have been many times when we would start to get discouraged or feel defeated and God would give us a promise or some tidbit of hope to hold onto. I received one of these moments on July 19th. I was originally going to wait until I could tell "the rest of the story" before I shared it, but I think instead I will share what I can with you now.
It actually began that Thursday morning as I sat down to have my quiet time. I asked God to really speak to me and give me something that would not be easily forgotten; I was asking for one of those precious nuggets that you never forget because of its power and impact. As I read my Bible that morning, I didn't get that nugget I was seeking; I had a good quiet time, it just didn't speak that power that I was asking for. I wasn't upset about it; I actually thought that maybe I wasn't still enough and missed it.
That afternoon, I went to the grocery store and on the way home, the song "Voice of Truth" came on -- I have heard this song thousands of times, and while I have always liked this song, it has never been a song that evokes strong emotions for me. As I listened to it, I really thought about what it was saying. When it got to the part that says "Oh what I would do to have the kind of strength it takes to stand before a giant with just a sling and a stone," I didn't hear the rest of the song because my thoughts were in David's shoes that day as he stood before the giant. I tried to imagine what he was feeling and thinking as he dared to do what no one else had the courage to do. Then, I thought about the 5 stones that David had in his sling. I could see David in the brook gathering 5 stones as he prepared to face the giant. He gathered 5 stones; David only needed one. I thought about our situation and how we were facing our giant, and how we have prepared to face our giant. Should we gather 5 stones to face our giant? What would the 5 stones be? God was speaking to me and giving me the morsel that I had asked for that morning. I believe that God was telling me to prepare to face our giant by gathering 5 stones. I got so excited about this as I drove home; when I got home I shared it with Rex; he felt equally encouraged by it.
I didn't have a clue what our 5 stones were going to be, but I knew that God was going to reveal them to me. I knew that I was going to be seeking and listening for the interpretation of our 5 stones. I didn't know if it was going to be 5 verses, 5 promises, or 5 things to do. A day or so later, I came across something as I was reading that I thought could be our 5 stones; I decided to proceed with it until or unless God showed me something differently. I have also had two other possibilities for our 5 stones that have been revealed to me. It is not without-a-doubt apparent to me what our 5 stones are -- pray that God will clearly show us what our 5 stones are to be.
For over a year, I prayed for specific direction regarding Rex' health. I gave up on that prayer in recent weeks as I adjusted my prayer to asking for God to heal Rex instead of asking what "I" could do to bring healing for Rex. I had to reach the end of myself and realize that it wasn't about me or what I could do or what any man could do. It had to be what God could do because He alone is worthy; He alone can heal Rex' body; He alone deserves the praise and glory in our lives.
When I least expected it, God answered my prayer of so many months and has given us some direction in this battle. I had to get to a point of brokenness and total reliance on Him before He could do so.
I don't know what the future holds for our family. I know that Rex is at his weakest physically than he has ever been. I know that his body is in a fight for his life. I know that God is on the throne and in control; God is not surprised by any of this. I know that I want Rex to live.
Please pray for us to know exactly what our role is in the days ahead. Pray for protection from any evil influence. Pray for God's healing touch on Rex' body. Pray for continued strength for me -- he has blessed me tremendously with energy and strength these last two weeks. Pray for us to gather our 5 stones to face this giant.
Have a blessed day!
Donna Meadows
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