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