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A very long day at the hospital today. Waited three hours for the head doc, the patient advocate, the nurse, two residents and one of St. John's nuns to gather around Tudor's bed to witness his consent (one *blink*) to remove life support (the vent). I got there around 11:15 AM, the vent was removed at 3:00 PM.
The nurse cleaned him up (not a pretty sight and one I haven't much stomach for) and he began trying to form words with his lips. I asked him to save his energy, I would come back at 5:00 and we'd try to "talk" some more then.
At 5:00 he was quite alert but obviously wearing out. But he TRIED, by God! I told him that our neighbor had mowed the yard, unrequested. Just a good neighbor. His eyes lit up and he actually smiled. I gave him some water on a sponge; it's on a stick like a tootsie-roll pop, so I call them his water-pops. Watering is tricky and I was not comfortable doing this; if he gets too much he could inhale it into his lungs which are already clogged with pneumonia.
The nurse returned to his room and we had to go through yet another agonizing decision witnessing process. Tudor had to make it on his own and I knew what the decision would be. Should his heart stop, did he want to be resuscitated? He answered with a definite "no" by shaking his head three times. Little, tiny, painfully clear movements: left, right, left. That is still, at this moment, too surreal for me to get my head around. I told him everyone would honor his wishes if it came to that.
Shortly after that I got ready to leave. I told him I'd be back in the morning. He rasped, almost inaudibly, "Not too early!" That made me laugh.
Thank you all for your prayers and concern... we are not out of the woods yet but evidently he's got a better sense of humor right now than I do!
The nurse cleaned him up (not a pretty sight and one I haven't much stomach for) and he began trying to form words with his lips. I asked him to save his energy, I would come back at 5:00 and we'd try to "talk" some more then.
At 5:00 he was quite alert but obviously wearing out. But he TRIED, by God! I told him that our neighbor had mowed the yard, unrequested. Just a good neighbor. His eyes lit up and he actually smiled. I gave him some water on a sponge; it's on a stick like a tootsie-roll pop, so I call them his water-pops. Watering is tricky and I was not comfortable doing this; if he gets too much he could inhale it into his lungs which are already clogged with pneumonia.
The nurse returned to his room and we had to go through yet another agonizing decision witnessing process. Tudor had to make it on his own and I knew what the decision would be. Should his heart stop, did he want to be resuscitated? He answered with a definite "no" by shaking his head three times. Little, tiny, painfully clear movements: left, right, left. That is still, at this moment, too surreal for me to get my head around. I told him everyone would honor his wishes if it came to that.
Shortly after that I got ready to leave. I told him I'd be back in the morning. He rasped, almost inaudibly, "Not too early!" That made me laugh.
Thank you all for your prayers and concern... we are not out of the woods yet but evidently he's got a better sense of humor right now than I do!
