So... my dad died. The month leading up to his death was very stressful. He fell one evening at the house and Life Alert called me to let me know an ambulance was on the way. He was walking to get into bed and his knees gave out and he fell between the bed and the wall. All 370 pounds of him to the ground. Lucky for him 5 big strong EMT's and Firefighters, were able to get him up and into bed. Thank God for the Corona Police/Fire/EMT department. He ended up going in the ambulance so he could get his knees checked out at the hospital. Xrays showed nothing broken so they gave him some Tylenol and sent him home that night. The next day he was in his restroom and fell again. He again headed to the hospital after being lifted by many men to get him off the ground.
He spent the next 12 hours in the Corona ER. I got there around 3:30pm to hang out with him until they were able to get him into a room. He needed dialysis for the day, which they can't do in the ER, so between his legs issues and needing dialysis, they decided to admit him. For 5 hours I sat in the ER with him to keep him company. We had our masks on, I saw a dead on arrival come in... the ER was a bit crazy that evening. The nurse that was their for her shift was so sweet and made dad as comfortable as he could be. Dad would dose in and out, he was telling me stories of, everything and anything. Since his knees were in such pain, I sat by the bed and rubbed my dads left knee for HOURS. He keep telling me how good it felt, better than any pain killers they gave him. Just for me to rub my warm hand over his knee. So I kept doing it. It would make him fall asleep. They didn't have compression socks or anything for him in the ER so I would get up and rub both of his legs and even try to rub his feet. The blankets were nice and warm and as long as I kept up with his knee rubbing he was comfortable.
Dad was in the story telling mood, I mean, I guess he always is... He was telling me about him, his brothers and his cousins going out dancing. He told me about a night when my mom came out dancing with them... but she was still involved with her husband at the time, so it was more of a friend kind of thing, but he really had the hots for her anyway. I was able to record some of the story, but it's just of dad laying in a hospital bed, with a mask on his face and it's hard to make out what he is saying, but it was a sweet story to be there in person for. A male nurse had come in and out a few times and was chatting it up with me to be friendly. My dad was convinced the was hitting on me. It made me laugh. Dad was kinda weird about it knowing that I'm married, he wasn't super happy about it, but we both had a good laugh at it anyway.
Finally at about 10:30pm or so, they got dad a room to be admitted to. This was early November so Covid cases were pretty low, still around, but at that point hadn't climbed back up yet. I told dad I was going to wait with him until he got moved to a room. The hospital would allow me to be with him in the ER, but once the got moved to a room, they were very strict on visiting hours because of Covid. So I stayed until they came to get him and I watched as they wheeled him away down the hall to the elevator to take him to a room.
Because the hospital was so strict on visiting hours, they were also very strict on visitors in general. You could only have one a day. So Reba and I swapped off days, she would go the next day and then I went the next. I got there at 4 and knew I could only stay until 8. That night dad was pretty tired but we decided to turn on the TV and see what was on. Grease came on and we both wanted to watch it! The best part of this visit was that when "Summer nights" started dad and I both started to sing! He was, of course Danny, and I sang the part of Sandy. We sang the entire song as a duet and it was fun. We laughed at each other, especially at the end when the pitch went up and neither of us could hit the note, but we both tried. I'm sure dogs were howling somewhere. I took my last picture with dad that night. It's one of my favorites I think.
In the next few days I heard from multiple doctors, the heart Dr said that since he had been there, they had been monitoring his heart. The beating of his heart would stop for longer then they were comfortable with and recommended that they put in a pacemaker. It was going to be a very easy procedure. The pacemaker is an ounce and is the size of a silver dollar. Dad had the surgery that Thursday morning. Everything went well and it was all pretty fast. The doctors knew that dad couldn't come home, because he couldn't even stand or walk. They told us that they would send him to a rehab place to get better, have some PT and then come home.
The next day was full of phone calls back and forth to his case worker, the hospital, Primecare and the facility he was going to go to. I was pushing for them to find a place where they could do dialysis and PT. It was nearly impossible to find. There were even places that wouldn't take him because he was over 300 pounds and they can't accommodate people that large. Who knew it would have been such a pain in the butt to meet all this criteria to just get him into a rehab place to get him better? Our choices were very limited and we found ONE place that would take him. This place did not have dialysis there so now he was going to have to be transported from there to dialysis 4 times a week. It all just add another layer of complication onto everything we were already dealing with. So, to Villa Mesa in Upland he went.
They called to confirm everything from his diet, to his meds and everything in between. I had to sign a hundred page document after he got there. I clicked through all the pages late at night and read most of what was on there and just signed away... He was there, he was safe, and would get some physical therapy to help him get his strength back in his legs.
The next 3 weeks there would be a crazy rollercoaster. The place wasn't great. They constantly gave him food he was not supposed to have on his renal diet. They failed to provide him with snacks when leaving for dialysis like they should have. Transportation they arranged to get him from Upland to Corona 4 times a week sucked. They were late most of the time. More on this place at a later day when I send them my 5 pages of complaints.
Day 20 arrived and they came in to tell dad that according to the insurance and the facility, he hadn't made much progress and so they were sending him home. I immediately broke down and cried thinking about them sending him home and him falling again and going through this whole LONG process all over again. 3 weeks in this place and they hadn't done enough PT with him for him to even stand up, let alone walk. I know you are thinking, how has he been there 3 weeks and still can't walk? The place had so many issues. Dad was in a separate building from everyone else because he had to go back and fourth to dialysis and could bring covid in at anytime. Where the rest of the facility just stayed in with no visitors, so they were all in the main building and dad was in a second building. This building unfortunately had no PT room for dad to use, and he couldn't use the one in the main building because of Covid. So the PT that dad did, about 3 days a week was in his room with very little movement. It was a shit show from the beginning. From them sending in a little scrawny guy to get dad up and try to get him to walk with no bands, nothing to help dad and this tiny little guy for support for a 370 pound man. Right.... they also would come in right after dad got back from dialysis when he needed some time to rest, they say they would come back later and then didn't. PT there was a JOKE.
Back to day 20, time to send dad home.... HOW IN THE WORLD do you expect a 370 pound man who can't even walk, to be able to go home? What the fuck was this world coming to when anyone thought that was OK? The case worker at Villa Mesa told me that I could file an appeal. She said, they rarely deny appeals and it would keep dad there at least another week. He needed at least another week to gain some more progress. So, in high hopes we could win an appeal and keep him there for a bit longer, I called right away to start the process. It was 8pm that night and I wasn't prepared for all the questions they were going to ask me about why he should stay and why they should approve it. I felt ok about what I said, but I'm sure there was some more room for better reasons, but it had been such a long emotional day, I just didn't feel great about it. BUT both the lady from Primecare and the lady from the Facility told me these rarely get denied so I felt ok about it.
Saturday evening came and I got the call that they denied my appeal and he would have to go home on Sunday. Again, so emotional and pissed the fuck off, I had to call my dad to tell him I was sorry that it got denied. I just couldn't understand how they could send him home in the condition he was in. It was unsafe for him. Dad, of course, met my call with silver lining. He GOT TO GO HOME. Something he had been looking forward to, no matter what shape he was in. He wanted to go home. He had been away from home for over a month now. A weekish in the hospital and 3 more in the rehab facility. He missed Reba and his dogs and really just wanted to be at home.
So many unanswered questions because it was the weekend, none of the equipment had been ordered for dad yet, so he was coming home to a house that was not equipped to handle him yet. We had to come up with a plan... I found a transportation company and paid for it on my own because it wasn't covered by his insurance, just to get dad home. Victor and I went to the house about 4pm to start cleaning and getting it ready for dad to come home. We knew he was getting a bed and a lift for the living room so we mostly just helped make room and clean all the dust and cobwebs so dad would be comfortable in the living room. The equipment coming to the house was another shit show... promised there on Sunday, it did not arrive until Weds...
Sunday night about 8:30pm, dad finally arrives home. I cried when they brought him in, I was so happy to see him, but to also know how happy he was to be home. Reba and I decided that dad sleeping in the recliner until we got the bed for the living room was going to be the best idea. We had to get dad from his wheelchair to his recliner, that was our last task of the night. This was no little task and might have been the most stressful thing I have done in a long time. We wheeled him as close to the recliner as we could get. All dad had to do was "stand up", meaning pull himself up on his walker, pivot back a step or two and then sit himself in his recliner that was already in the standing position for him. Sounds so simple. We had to get dad motivated and we all pretended there was no question in our mind that he could do it. Victor standing in front of the walker, so dad knew it wouldn't move. Me, using every muscle in me to hold dad under his arm and lift and Reba standing behind him holding onto his shorts in a lifting position... we all counted and watched dad take EVERY single muscle in his body and every piece of willing his body to get the strength to do it. About half way there, he looked like he was gonna give up and fall back into the wheelchair and we all got louder and cheered him on, all the while, pulling on his arm as much as I could to help get him standing. With all his might, he stood up from wheelchair and held onto the walker. We pivoted and got him into his recliner. He sat down and laid back and my dad, Reba and myself all cried. It was seriously so stressful to just get him into his recliner that night. BUT dad was home and he was so happy. He was right where he wanted to be. He smiled so big. I took a picture of him laying on the recliner to send to Aunt Toni and my sisters to let him know he was home and safe and sound. It was a big relief but also in the same breath a whole different worry I had.
Monday was dads "rest" day from dialysis. We talked on the phone so many time a day at this point, it was just normal to hear from him or at least Reba twice a day. Dad was still so happy to be home where Reba could make him breakfast and take care of him again. Tuesday dad was picked up by a transportation company and taken to dialysis and brought back home. I got a call that day from dad saying that when he was in the lift there, he was close to being dropped. They didn't drop him but he thought they were going to. He was not happy about it. I told Reba to call down to the place and tell them, there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe they needed some retraining with the lift, or maybe dad thought it just felt like it. That day while dad was still there, I had called him and he was speaking all kinds of gibberish. It worried the hell out of me, so I told dad to hand the phone to the nurse. Apparently his blood pressure was just really low and when he is like that he is a bit out of his mind until the meds kick in and his blood pressure goes back up.
Wednesday morning before sunrise, Reba hears dad calling out for him. She comes running out to find him on the floor. Dad apparently was dreaming about the lamp talking to him and somehow in the middle of night, got the remote for the chair and had it lift him all the way up to a standing position, while sleeping. He slid down the foot of the recliner and ended up hanging out on the floor until the ambulance came to do a "lift assist". Dad's sleep apnea and his wild vivid dreams is a whole different blog post coming someday.
Dad decided that he was going to skip dialysis this morning because of the way they lifted him yesterday and he just didn't feel like going today. Weds was technically his "added" day where he was only there for 2 hours, so he could skip it and not much would happen. Finally this day, his equipment would be delivered after days of broken promises from everyone about his equipment being ordered stat, about when it would be delivered... finally it arrived at the house. A bariatric bed and a hoyer lift were the two things we all really cared about right at the moment. A big sigh of relief came over me when I knew those two were there so now we could help him with the lift safely move around now. Wednesday evening comes around and Sid was at the house to help move dad for the first time using the lift. Sid is a friend of my dad and Reba who had been around the last year helping them with pretty much anything that needed to be done around the house. Sid had used the hoyer lift with his mom before and knew how to work out so he was nice enough to come help Reba.
Victor, the kids and I had just finished up dinner and some dessert at the house when my phone rang at 7:52pm and it was the number for Life Alert. I knew something was wrong and immediately started to get up off the couch. Someone had pushed the button but no one was answering at the house when they called. I hung up with them and called my dads cell phone. Reba answered it and yelled, Jamie, he just stopped breathing. My heart sank into my chest. She told me the ambulance was either on their way, or they were there, so I told her to get in the ambulance with him and go. Don't leave him, we were on our way. The second I heard Reba's voice I ran up the stairs and grabbed my shoes, my wallet and my water bottle as Victor threw on his shoes and we were out the door in 10 seconds.
I hung up with Reba and called Jacquie, twice... she wouldn't answer, so I called Donovan. All the while, I'm hyper ventilating and can barely see my phone or hear anything. I'm telling Victor how to get to the hospital and to just drive fast but get us there safely. Thank God Donovan answered his phone. I said, "I need my sister". He handed her the phone, I told her dad stopped breathing and then clicked over to 3 way Julie in. I told them all I knew, which wasn't a lot. I was a wreck and I already knew it was going to be bad. They were calm and assured me it would be ok. There was something about the way Reba said to me "he stopped breathing" that I just knew it was bad. I told them I would call them back the second I got to the hospital and hung up and called my Aunt Toni, she was on the phone with Reba and said they still had him at the house so to go there instead. I called my dads neighbor Marc to ask if the ambulance was still there or if they had left with dad yet. He said they were still there and from what he could tell, it didn't look good. My heart sank even more. We pulled onto Acacia and there were firetrucks, cop cars and an ambulance all in front of the house. My body was shaking and I don't remember breathing. Victor didn't even get to stop the car before I hopped out and ran into the house.
This blog post is the reason I blog. I don't always remember things, so for things that are important to me, I like to blog so I can remember down the road what happened and how things unfolded, because leaving that to my memory is a bad idea. This is where rivers of tears are just coming out of my eyes as I continue to type.
I run into the house to find my dad laying on the ground with several people standing around him giving him CPR to keep his heart beating. I stand and watch for a few moments before a police officer tries to get me to come into the kitchen to talk so I don't stand there and watch them. I can't explain the reason I needed to stand there and watch it all end, but I just did. I couldn't walk away from it. I stood for about 10 minutes and just looked, I called my sisters and had them on 3 way just on my phone as I stood there. I answered whatever questions were coming my way, directing them mostly to Reba, as she was there and had his list of medications out. There were probably 7-8 men standing over dad on the floor, taking turns giving him CPR. A few times they would all take their hands off of him and yell "clear" and shock him. A gentlemen came over to me and Reba at some point and said they have been trying to get his heart beating again for 20 minutes and honestly it wasn't looking good. I had to walk out of the house at that point to call my sisters again.
Jacquie answered first and I said the same words to her and he said to me and the screech that came out of her mouth followed by the loud, mourning crying was hard to deal with. It was like out of a movie and the actress just found out the love of her life died. It was just another punch in the gut to hear... I had no choice but to click over and 3 way Julie. As JQ was balling and screaming I had to repeat the words again and wasn't even sure Julie could hear me over JQ. At some point I told JQ to put the phone down so I could talk to Julie, I had to make sure she heard what I needed to say. At that point I had to walk back into the house with them both on the phone still. The EMT's were still doing CPR and trying to get his heartbeat back. Both my sisters on the phone were yelling into the phone, just tell them to stop. He's already gone, just tell them to stop. I asked them if they can please stop now. They had to get the OK from the hospital to stop. I pulled out his binder with his will and trust in it and said, I have power of attorney for him, please stop. They fumbled through the binder and asked my name and finally got the OK to stop. They did CPR on him and tried to get his pulse back for 30 minutes. Time of death was 20:32, Dec 9, 2020.
It was horrific to watch, but like a car crash, you just can't turn away. Your dad is laying dead on the ground and people are trying to revive him and I just couldn't stop watching. I needed to be able to tell my sisters what was going on and how it all ended. It was an out of body experience to say the least. I've had a few of them and this one was crazy. I can't unsee any of it and wouldn't, given the opportunity to do it over again. The next few hours are somewhat of a blur. Reba was there, Victor was there, Pastor Steve came. I made a few phone calls. I may or may have not threatened to go against what the cops told me I could and couldn't do and could have gotten tackled right there in the living room.
We had to wait to see if they were going to release dad to the coroners office or a mortuary. With all dads health problems there was no need for him to go to the coroners office so I had to call Thomas Miller to come pick him up. Pastor Steve and Reba both got on the ground by dad. Pastor prayed over him and Reba reached down to kiss his forehead. I tried to do the same. It was weird, it felt weird. It was just his body. He had left a bit ago and was now sitting in heaven with my mom. But I knew it was the last time that I could touch him so I did. I told him to give mom a big hug from us and that I loved him so much. I ran my fingers through his old grey hair for the last time. The blanket covered his face and I didn't want to uncover it. I had seen him on Sunday, happy as a clam to be home. I had just seen him for the last 20 minutes while they tried to get his heart beating. I didn't need to kiss a dead body.
The last EMT/Firefighter left the house as I stood outside and thanked each one of them personally. Thanked them for trying to revive dad and spending so much time trying to save him. I thanked them for all the trips they had made to the house before today to help him and lift him. I was calm, it was over, everyone was leaving. It was blurry.
Thomas Miller was there in about 15 minutes. I realized as they walked in with the two of them that I had failed to mention he was 370 pounds... They were super nice about it and said they would just call for back up. Their back up was in Long Beach so it would be about 45 minutes before they were there. I spent the next 45 minutes pacing back and fourth up and down the street outside talking on the phone. I called Chrissy and Crystal. I talked again to Aunt Toni and both my sisters. Those really were the only people I needed to talk to at that time. I came to realize that dad died at home right in his living room with Reba by his side, right where he wanted to be. Right where he should have been. He wasn't still at the rehab facility where he "should" have been if they didn't deny my appeal. It hit me hard that things happen for a reason, which I already know, but at the time you don't see it. I was livid when they wanted to send dad home and even more livid when they denied our appeal. Little did I know God had another plan for dad. He needed him at home, he needed dad at peace.
When the rest of the gang from Thomas Miller showed up, we stepped out of the house so I didn't have to see the shit show that was about to go down as the 5 of them had to get dad off the ground onto their gurney that was clearly made for a small/normal person. We all but clapped as they came out of the house with dad strapped down onto the gurney and all covered up. That was that. He was on his way to the morgue. I would never see him again. That empty shell had been vacated and he was now in the place where he has waited his entire life to go.
Reba would tell me the story of what went down. Sid and Reba were moving dad from the recliner to the bed and when in the lift he said he couldn't breath very well, so they put him back down, waited a few minutes and then tried again. They got dad up in the lift and almost over to the bed when he was looking at Reba in front of him and then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he stopped breathing. Reba hit her life alert button but couldn't get through to anyone. They were calling the house and she was trying to get to them. Dad in the lift still, she grabbed the house phone, pulled out the plug to stop the busy signal trying to get out, plugged it back in and dialed 911. They told her to put him down on the bed out of the lift and had Sid start CPR on him until the ambulance got there. Reba said, one minute he was looking at her and the next he was gone. It was fast and I'm sure he felt no pain. His heart just stop beating and never came back to us. That call from life alert at 7:52, he had just left his body. There was nothing anyone could do at that point. He was home with my mom.
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