- Joined
- Jul 15, 2010
- Messages
- 14,462
- Name
- Bo Bowen
- Thread Starter Thread Starter
- #21
We let my Dad go tonight. And I have to share a few lessons my Dad taught me on the way out. My sister and I had about decided that once our niece had arrived from Alaska and my three kids had driven up from Georgia that we were going to decide when to take Dad off of the ventilator. But after meeting with the doctor this morning, we had new doubts. Dad had started breathing some on his own but still had no gag reflex. He had shown signs of kidney damage the day before but had stabilized. The doctor was advocating for two more days or more just to make sure even though he had already said his kidneys were damaged and didn't recommend starting dialysis, that the EEG didn't show probable recovery and that if Dad were to survive, he probably would be bed ridden. After all the grandkids had said their goodbyes, we all went to a lobby to discuss things. A couple of minutes later, two nurses came in and said Dad's breathing had taken a turn for the worse and that the ventilator needed to be increased to sustain him. We asked when did that start? They informed us it was the second we left the room. That was the moment for me and my sister. It was clear to me that Dad had been waiting for the grandkids to say goodbye. So we immediately set things in motion to let him go. Then, when we take him off the ventilator and my sister and I take him by the hands and tell him we're ok, a tear rolls out both of his eyes. Dad taught me in his final moments here that dying people indeed need closure and they feel your presence at the end. I've always heard stories of this but was never sure. I'm sure now brothers. You'll never convince me otherwise now. Thanks Dad! I stand in awe.
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