Life is short. As you get older you start to see just how short it is. As a 41 year old, I look at 60 now and think wow that's not old at all. I was able to spend time this year with my husbands Aunts who are in their late 80's and 90's and I don't really think that is old either, especially when you see how well they get around. They both live on their own, are happy and are an active part of their families. Unfortunately everyone is going to die someday.
For me having my dad die was especially hard. He's my Dad. The first man I ever loved. My dad dreamed of having a son. I was as close as he was going to get. I was a tomboy. I loved going to the Sportsdrome with him. We would go to mud bogs. I loved playing in the creek. We joined the Sellersburg Volunteer Fire Department together. During the summers when he was home he would take me and Sally on adventures. We visited the Coke museum multiple times. We would go to the old bat factory and go on tours. We had a lot of fun exploring. He gave me the wonderful gift of gab. I can talk about anything to anyone. Fortunately I can't talk forever like him! He was not a perfect man. I'm sure there are things he is not proud of in his past. I chose to leave those things there. Let me tell you though, that man could make my blood boil. He could make me madder than I knew I could get. He loved to instigate me when I was mad. That taught me too. I learned to ignore it. As an adult I am able to deal with people like that. As a daughter I have few regrets. I had a husband that was willing to share our live with our families. Because of that I was able to offer Dad many fun experiences with us. We went to the Brickyard, NYC to see the Macy's parade, 2 cruises, a week a Boy Scout Camp and various other small trips. I had 2 of his 4 grandkids. He loved spending time with all of them. He would spend hours playing trains and legos when they were young. He would work on 'projects' with Cole. Over the last year he said "If I die today I will have lived a great life". I believe he really had.
I guess I need to tell you everything that happened in the 13 days so you understand why he death was bit of a surprise to us. On Monday May 26, 2014: Memorial Day, he called and said he was having a heart attack. When I walked into the Emergency Department (ED) I knew he was not having a heart attack but a pulmonary embolism (PE). I've been a nurse for almost 20 years and 13 of those years were in the ED. He had chest pain, was sweaty and was anxious beyond belief. A doctor I know was working that day, he was not his doctor, but knew what was going on. I said PE? He said most likely, we ordered a d-dimer and it was positive so we ordered a CT. Great I thought, as always, they were on top of things and he'd be getting a special medication and he'd be on the road the healing. Not long after the CT I seen the look in their eyes. I've been a nurse too long not to recognize that look. It took them a short bit before the Doctor approached us. He ran in and said he has a dissecting Abdominal aortic aneurysm and he needed to go to another hospital right now and the ambulance was en route. I called my sister, my mom and my husband and told them to get there as soon as possible. I walked into the bathroom and cried. Dried my eyes, got myself together and walked back to the bed. This all occurred in about 7 mins. The first thing my Dad says is "this is what killed my mom". The internal battle was raging in my brain, what do I say. I did what I do best, be the brutally honest nurse. "Yes, Dad it is." Then came all the dreaded questions, what next? whats going to happen? Am I going to live? Honestly I had no idea, as an ER RN we shipped these people off to another area, our job was to quickly figure it out then move you to where they fixed them.
He arrived in the ICU at the larger inner city hospital. He settled in for the evening. The Doctors reviewed his tests and didn't think it was actually dissecting but had a false lumen so they were going to wait for a few days to make a decision. The first few days are a blur. He went for a test and coded during it. When Sherri called I was stunned so I rushed back to the hospital. He has had uncontrolled high blood pressure for years, so it was no surprise that his blood pressure was high. As I sat by his bed and listened to him and watched him I knew he was getting worse. Sally and I brought the kids to see him, he told them how proud of them he was. He told them they needed to go to college and be successful in whatever they chose.
I was concerned. Here is my facebook post that night:
Today's update: today is stressful. I listen and I watch I'm a nurse. It's hard being a nurse today! Dad's sick! He's on a lot of oxygen 100%NRB. As soon as he takes it off his oxygen levels drop. He's back on IV meds for BP control. He's very restless and confused. He's got some kind of infection going on. His lungs have some fluid in them (not completely unexpected with laying in a bad for several days). He's having a TEVAR done at 730 am Friday (Google it). Will be in the OR for 2-4 hours. There are a lot of risks but this must be done. Praying for a positive outcome.
They ended up intubating him that night. On Friday he went for the surgery not even knowing we were there. We sat in the waiting room forever. I smiled and kept it together, but as every hour passed I was more worried than the previous hour. We quickly past the 2 hour mark, then the 4 hour mark, than another hour and another. Every time a Doctor walked out I prayed they were for us. I watched several families be escorted to the "room". The 'room' is the place for bad news, and I didn't want to be called there. The waiting room was cleared and it was just us left, and seven hours in, when the Doctor walked out. Thank God he didn't call us to the room. He started talking and starred right though us. He said, 'well things took a little longer than expected, we had to do blah blah blah blah blah (that's all I heard) and we nicked his artery so he had some additional bleeding, and we had to put a graft on it", and than he left. Everyone looked at me. What does that mean? I have no idea. It sure doesn't sound good.
We waited some more. Five hours, I believe it was, to finally see him. He was still intubated and looked awful. He was so swollen with tubes everywhere and something constantly alarming.
Over the weekend we took turns sitting with him. It seemed like every hour there was something new. On Sunday we learned that he had a stroke in his spine during the surgery and it was unknown if he would walk. I knew when he recovered he could deal with a lot of things but, not being able to walk was not one of them. I couldn't imagine how he would react to that. I was crushed. He wasn't able to be extubated, he was extubated, he was reintubated, he had blood in his lungs, and so on. It was one thing after another. Than on Friday June 6, 2014 he was extubated and then I received this picture of him getting out of bed for the first time. The ICU delirium was improving and he was able to bare some weight on his legs. Thank God I thought. With some good rehab he will be able to walk. I ditched work and went to see him for a bit. After a bit I went to work. I got a call from him Friday evening insisting I get there as quick as possible.
I went to the hospital and he was mad because they would let him eat or drink. I got him some ice chips and he settled down. For 12 days I was worried he was going to die, nothing was going right. If he would have died at any time during those days I would have understood. On Sat he was fired up. He was irritable and he called me and demanded that I bring him coffee right now. I did. He wasn't supposed to have it so I poured the coffee over the ice chips and he ate coffee flavored ice chips and he was happy. He wanted to talk to me alone so Sherry left the room. He told me some stuff that had been on his mind, mostly financial. I explained everything and told him
he would be ok. I asked him to take a nap as he needed to be calm and rest. He said "only if you hold my hand". I held his hand and than I just listened. He could not get comfortable. Finally he asked me to lay him down flat which is an unusual request for him. I did. He started talking to God. Yes, God. He told God he was ready. He was ready to be one with the earth. He extended his arms to the sky and talked. He talked about the Angels, he talked about soaring in the clouds. He said he was once again becoming one with the earth and he was ready. He repeated some of these things many times. He moaned and groaned a lot but his arms stayed extended. Finally he said I am so cold up here soaring in the clouds with you. At that time I put my hand on him and he was ice cold. After a few more minutes he was with it again. He told me to sit him up. I did. His skin was warmer now. I just passed it off as the ICU delirium. Sally and Sherry came back and we all sat with him. We talked him. We laughed. I wanted to get home and celebrate a few minutes of my 18th Wedding Anniversary. As Sally began to give him a massage I left. It was after 6:30pm. Sally left a bit later, and than he made Sherry go home so she could get a good night of rest. It was around 8:30 when she left. We had just sat down to eat when the phone rang just after 9pm. The person said there has been a change in Mr. Yochem's condition. I've made that phone call so many times I knew he had died. We stood at his bed and looked at him. It was just unbelievable how fast things can change. Just when I thought he was out of the woods he died. We had a grand funeral for him. He would have loved it. So much red, white and blue. He always said his last move would be to St. Joe Hill, and he was right.
In the months since I have struggled mostly privately. I quickly moved through the first three stages of the Kubler Ross's Five Stages of Loss and Grief. I'm kind of stuck between 4-5 now.
1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance.
What makes me sad is knowing I'll never get a phone call from him again, he'll never annoy me again when he shows up on a school/work night at 8pm just to hang out, and he won't be Santa Claus again. It leaves me wondering who will hand out Halloween candy this year while we trick or treat, who is going to carve the Thanksgiving Turkey this year, and who will I drink eggnog with this Christmas. I guess I'll find replacements but I'm just not ready too! As I look back through my pictures I am thankful for some of these
You'll always be my Santa.
Dad and his boys.
Christmas 2013. The boys and their Santa.
Our last complete Family Christmas picture 2013.
Dads last picture in April 2014 at the girls Baptism.
Take my advice and love your parents while you have them. If you haven't spoken to them in a while pick up the phone and call them. Take the kids to see them. Take a weekend trip or a vacation with your family and your parents. Take them to dinner. Invite them to sit around the fire. Enjoy your parents while you have them. No one is promised tomorrow and we are all going to die eventually. Enjoy the time you have. Mom, would you mind hanging around for 40-50 more years! I love my Parents.
Rest in Peace Dad! Until we meet again!
My senior year of High School I had a friend that was a year older them me that had enlisted in the Army and was sent to Germany. We wrote letters often and visited when he came home. Oddly I feel like I know more about his military experience them my own dads. The letters he wrote were all about what he was doing as a medic with quite graphic stories. Many of the men and women I work with now were in the Gulf War and I feel like I can relate to them when they tell their stories.
