Her Last Day

Mom had fallen about three weeks earlier and cracked some ribs on a cement step. She'd been to the Prompt Care and was seeming to do better. So, I left town to attend a conference. I stopped at my son's on the way home for a short visit. On Sunday, I stopped to see Mom. She'd been admitted to the hospital the day before. She had some internal bleeding from the rib fractures and the fact that she was on coumadin for Atrial Fibrillation. She was in a lot of discomfort. I spent the afternoon with her, then, went home to my husband. The next morning, I was on my way to work when I got the intuition that I should go to the hospital instead. I've learned over the years to trust that feeling. So, I called my principal to tell him I would not be coming in that day. When I got to the hospital, her physician was just leaving. I had time to ask him about her kidney function and he just dismissed my concerns and told me it would return to normal as soon as she got better. The first words out of her mouth were, "I don't want to live another day if I have to endure this much pain." The plan as I understood it was for a consult with a thoracic surgeon, vitamin K shots to coagualte her blood, and then typing her blood for possible surgery. The very first problem we encountered was the inability of the phlebotomist to hit a vein. This process was very painful. They finally found someone who got the job done. Then, the surgeon came in. He told mom that if they could get her blood count up through transfusions, he would do surgery on her the next morning. He said he'd have to leave a drain in the incision for several weeks but that she could go home with home nursing care. As he laid out the whole process, I could see her withdraw. After he left, she put her head back in the chair and closed her eyes. I believe in my heart she asked God to take her home that day. Shortly afterward, everything started happening so fast that it is a blur. I just know that soon the nurse came to say they were transferring her to Intensive Care. The last thing I heard her say was, "Help me." When I got to the Intensive Care Unit, they were getting her settled in her bed. They finally let me in. She was lying on her back, breathing, eyes closed. I don't think she was there anymore. Her body was alive but I felt no connection. The nurse asked me if I had anyone to call to be with me and if I wanted her put on a respirator. I asked for a minute to think. As I stood there beside the bed, I "knew" she'd be very upset with me if I allowed that. She had a "Do Not Resuscitate" order on file. Just then a thoracic specialist came in and suggested we try to get her some air by draining the fluid from her lungs. I reminded him of her DNR order and gave permission for him to try. Her heart stopped while he was in the process. Although I still miss her terribly, I am at peace because I think we tried what we could but it was her time to depart.

Sheri

My friend Sheri called me one evening and told me she'd found a lump in her breast, had it biopsied, and was having a mastectomy in the morning. I was shocked. She told me not to worry and that it would be okay. We talked about why not a lumpectomy and about her husband and daughter. Later, I remembered another lady from my church who'd had the same surgery and I called her to ask if she could go see Sheri that night before the surgery. Sheri wasn't mad at me and was actually grateful to have someone to talk with who'd been through the procedure. I first met Sheri about 8 years earlier when my oldest son was ready for preschool. Sheri had a degree in early childhood education and had pioneered our local YWCA's Little School for 3-4 year old's. We lived at the duck hunting club and Sheri always made home visits before a child started in her classes. Now, it was 3 miles from the gate to our house and I was running late the day she was to arrive. Our road was a muddy mess so I was supposed to meet her at the gate. As I drove to the gate, here came Sheri, pant legs rolled up and shoes dangling from her purse slugging her way through the mud so she wouldn't be late to her next appointment. That is the kind of person she was. Over the years that my boys attended her preschool, we became good friends and prayer partners. We eventually started a prayer group with another friend, Carol. What a blessed oasis that weekly meeting was for the three of us! We were all busy, working mom's and this was an hour respite from our hectic lives. Sheri took radiation and chemo for her cancer. She worked the whole time and would cry with me about feeling like she was failing us by being so weak and tired. She survived the treatments and saw her daughter off to college before the cancer returned. This time it was in her neck. She had more radiation that shrunk the tumor. It was parent's weekend at the college and Sheri and Dick returned home just as Sheri got very ill. Her ureters were blocked and she was in such pain. The doctor did surgery to open them up. Carol and I waited till Sheri's husband told us she was in recovery and he was going to stay the night before we went home to our families. About 4 AM he called. He'd only left for a bit to go home and shower and clean up. The nurse found her and Sheri's heart had stopped. They did a code blue and got it started, but, she'd been out too long. The next day they did an EEG and there was no brain activity. Her family took her off life support and that was how she died. When I learned the news I was so mad at her husband for leaving her. Either Carol or I would have been happy to have stayed with her if only he'd called us. As I was driving back to town from the school I was at when I got the call, I felt her presence in the car and I sensed that Sheri was there to let me know that it was all right. I've never lost that feeling and I know that right now I can ask "What would Sheri say or do?" and the answer will be there for me. Sheri taught me that when you love someone, they become a part of you and always abide with you even if not physically present. You see, she was a great teacher.