The Passing of my Father

I spent the night at my brother's so we could get to the hospital early in the morning. Met with some doctors. The most important was the neurologist. I had him quantify the poor prognosis for my dad's brain problems. The news was not good. My dad was not going to recover.

With the new information, I finally got on board with my brother's decision. We were going to withdraw the life support that was keeping my father's body "alive". It took a while to get the pieces in place. A nurse administered some pain medication. Then the respiratory therapist removed the ventilator that was helping my dad breathe.

Initially my dad had trouble breathing. Made sense since both his lungs had pneumonia. But then his breathing improved. That was the blessing and the curse. Good that dad could breathe on his on. Bad that he might live when all his organs were shutting down.

After 30 minutes of watching his blood pressure being critically low, I decided I needed some lunch. Figured we were in it for a long hall. Maybe we might need to reverse our decision to not resuscitate dad. Took a quite bite at the close by sandwich shop. Returned to find our nurse went to lunch too and was relived by another nurse.

Dad's heartbeat was the main stat we were following. His heartbeat increased a bit. Then went back to the same rate when he was on all the machines. Eventually dad's normal breathing turned into no breathing. But that heart monitor kept showing his heart beating away. I swear that I saw my dad close his mouth and smile twice even after he stopped breathing.

The heart rate monitor eventually started beeping when his rate dropped below a critical 60 beats a minute. His heart finally gave in with the rest of his body. We waited for a doctor to check dad's stats manually. He was pronounced dead 15 minutes after he stopped breathing. And I cried for the first time since dad initially had the stroke.

I don't know why I saw dad smiling twice. Perhaps it was a muscle reflex based on the lack of oxygen. I am hoping that he had crossed over and saw a young version of my mom. And that could only bring a smile to his face, even in the absence of breathing in any oxygen. Or maybe dad was sending me a message that we did the right thing for him.

Now me and my brother pick up the pieces. Our latest plan is for my brother to move in with me. He said he can't bear to go back to my dad's house, when my dad is no longer there to greet him every day when he returns from work. I type this in a basement bedroom that used to be my private study, but will hopefully become my brother's new bedroom. November 13, 2015.