Pass if too difficult

[BBB]

Sorry if this is too hard on anyone here but wanting to know if people here actually watched their spouse die. I did through home hospice and frankly it was horrible. The worst was the last hours during the "death rattle". I cannot get that out of my head nor can I get the images of when I went to her and the pulse in her neck, which had been very pronounced, was no longer. That image also haunts me. 

[foreverhis]

Yes, I did.  He was to come home on hospice that morning, but his organs started to full fail overnight.  So they moved us to a huge private room in our small community hospital.  It had floor to ceiling windows looking onto a lovely courtyard.  He had been on comfort care for a few days by then, so was calmer, but still mostly conscious.

I had been with him most nights at the hospital and had planned on going home for the night before to finish getting the house ready for hospice care.  He said no, he wanted me to stay, so of course I did.  I wonder if he felt something shift in him and knew he wouldn't make it home.

The private room was not home, but there were no more tubes and IVs and machines, no more hustle and bustle.  Several nurses and CNAs who had been caring for him asked to come in and say goodbye.  That was really hard for me, but it was important for him and them.  They had been wonderful to both of us throughout everything.  It just ripped me up to see them stroke his arm or forehead and tell him they were sorry they couldn't do more and that they would miss him.

The nurses on duty made sure he was comfortable, out of pain, and let his body gently wind down to the end.

I sat by his side and treated him just as if he was his normal self, even as his mind drifted further from me.  Like if I had to go use the bathroom, I'd say, "I'll be right back, Don't get up and go anywhere."  And I played our favorite music on my tablet most of the day.  I honestly don't know how much he heard or felt the last few hours, but they say that hearing is the last sense to remain, so I hope so.

When it became clear that he didn't have much longer, there were times I simply had to look away.  As if, if I didn't see him take his last breath, then it didn't actually happen.  There were times I needed to look at something on the tablet just to give my mind and heart a short break because I was both overwhelmed and numb at the same time.  I talked to him and told him how much I love him, how sorry I was for failing him, and that he was everything to me.

I don't remember the last time he turned his head toward me and closed his eyes.  I only remember the images of his very last breath.  I sat there in the silence, shocked and broken.  After I pressed the call button and said they needed to send someone in, I sat there holding on to him.  When the nurses came in to help, I kept saying, "He's warm.  He's still so warm."  I simply couldn't let go. 

Even as the people from the funeral home came in, as I stood up and started to walk across the room, I flew back to him, put my arms around him, and told him I love him.  I couldn't possibly be in the room as they prepared to take him away, in part because I knew he was no longer there.  His heart, spirit, soul had gone on.

I will never get all those images out of my mind's eye.  Never.  I also haven't really shared them with anyone because they are my memories and my pain to bear as his soulmate.  That day will always be the hardest one of my life and my only comfort is that he died with me by his side, no longer in pain or afraid of what was to come next.

[BBB]

Similar experience and it is very difficult to share. But I, like you, will never get those images out of my head. 

I'll share a story that some of you will smile at while others will think I was hallucinating. My wife went into the death rattle around 4am. I called hospice and they said this was normal and she had about 23 hours to live. I went into my den and laid in the recliner. Around 5:50 AM my body started to shake and I felt something lift out of me. I knew her soul had just gone and ran out to the living room where her hospital bed was. I looked down at what once was a very pronounced pulse in her neck and nothing. I held her crying for what seemed like hours but was minutes and then called hospice to tell them she was gone.

[Perro J]

Yes, I was there when it happened. We had brought her home from the cancer hospital that day in an ambulance. We were told she could come home but the hospital then insisted upon us using an ambulance and also arranging for oxygen for her. It would have been nice to have been told that the day before. As the ambulance parked in front of her home, I poked my head inside and asked "Sabes que te amo?" ("You know that I love you?") and she replied by nodding and telling me "Yesterday I told them that I was coming home today".

The other day I got a bit of comfort in learning the gravity of her statement to me. A family member came (from Ecuador) to visit and he too was present when she died. He explained to me that she also spoke to her father that day and said something to the effect of "Ya me voy a ir" (Roughly: "I am already going") to which he responded "Donde?" (Where?) and she answered "Cielo" ("Heaven"). She knew.

She had been home for only a couple hours. She was always thirsty. Her brother has a side hustle making popsicles out of natural ingredients. The doctors told us she should not have cold things - but screw it - she deserves a popsicle. I sampled them and they are delicious. She chose a flavor that I cannot recall the name but it is a tangy berry that we don't have here. The coconut ones are probably my favorite but the berry one is good too. A little while later she asked for help in going to the bathroom. A crowd of family members and myself helped her to her feet. We helped her to the bathroom where I stepped back to let her immediate family members assist and I walked around the corner for the sake of giving her some privacy. Then she collapsed and the panic started. There were screams and I ran back to her. I will leave a lapse in the description here because this moment was not pretty and I know she would not want me to share it. We got her seated back on the sofa and I knelt in front of her. I lightly slapped her cheek as if I could awaken her. Others were calling emergency services. I looked at her face and I knew. I am not a doctor but I knew. Her soul had left her body. Someone was searching for a pulse - others tried to lay her down so that we could try to resuscitate her. I did not want to. I did not want to bring her back to her suffering body. I did not say anything.

I can write this because Sunday evening was the first night I allowed myself to recall this in a vivid way. I can see her face on that sofa. In her casket.

As I was typing this a friend called to check on me. I explained this to him too. He said he thought this was part of the process and that it was good that I have visited it. He also told me that I need to give myself permission to "come up for air" as well. I may need to revisit it again - but I must not stay in that spot and be consumed by it. I think he is right.

I know of the death rattle through another death in my life years ago - and I agree it is horrible. Some are telling me that it is an act of Providence that I was able to be there for her death. I am not so sure. I do know that I dreaded leaving her as I originally planned - and maybe one day I will see it in the light others describe.

 

[surfer]

I was with my husband till his last minute....It was a sudden rapture of the undiagnosed brain aneurysm...The worst day in my life!!! I love him so much!!! Still can't believe it happened to us!!! He was in coma for three days....I had to take him from life support. Everything was very peaceful. His heart was working for another 2.5 hours!!! I remember this monitor.. and when it stopped!!!  I'm thinking about this every day... Everything happened so sudden!!! He was absolutely healthy!!! I think I have PTSD now... It has been almost 9 months for me... Doesn't get easier...

[foreverhis]

2 hours ago, BBB said:

My wife went into the death rattle around 4am.

My husband didn't have that.  He just slipped gently from this life to the next.  His breathing had slowed so I knew it would soon be time.  I played him some of our favorite ballads, ending with one by Cole Porter, "In the Still of the Night," the version from the movie DeLovely, where Cole has just died and is seated at the piano playing.  He is once again young and healthy.  His wife walks up behind him and puts her hand on his shoulder.  She died some time before, but is also now young and strong again.  And they sing together.

Musicians here will get this and know that it's not just wishful thinking.  My love was facing me and took his last breath as the song ended and the final notes drifted away.  I thought to myself, "Of course he was a musician to the end."  See, we don't leave musical lines unfinished and timing is so important.  Silly?  Perhaps.  But these are the weird thoughts that came to me as I sat there in utter shock and pain.

[jwahlquist]

9 hours ago, BBB said:

Sorry if this is too hard on anyone here but wanting to know if people here actually watched their spouse die. I did through home hospice and frankly it was horrible. The worst was the last hours during the "death rattle". I cannot get that out of my head nor can I get the images of when I went to her and the pulse in her neck, which had been very pronounced, was no longer. That image also haunts me. 

Yes and it nearly made me ask for a shot of whatever it was that gave him when they took him off of life support.  Well at least the breathing part.   They had removed the other piece like dialysis and what not earlier.  So My daughter and I could lay in bed with him.    I wanted to die right along with him honestly or even trade places.   I held onto him until the nurse said he was gone.  I then kissed his forehead one last time and cried what remaining what tears I had left.   Then my family and his led me from the room and I drove myself and my daughter home.   I remember driving really slow........like if I went slow enough I could change my mind and a miracle would happen.  Shock is a weird thing.  

[Art Thebes]

When it became clear that he didn't have much longer, there were times I simply had to look away.  As if, if I didn't see him take his last breath, then it didn't actually happen.  There were times I needed to look at something on the tablet just to give my mind and heart a short break because I was both overwhelmed and numb at the same time.  I talked to him and told him how much I love him, how sorry I was for failing him, and that he was everything to me.
I don't remember the last time he turned his head toward me and closed his eyes.  I only remember the images of his very last breath.  I sat there in the silence, shocked and broken.  After I pressed the call button and said they needed to send someone in, I sat there holding on to him.  When the nurses came in to help, I kept saying, "He's warm.  He's still so warm."  I simply couldn't let go. 

[emoji22][emoji24]
I know that for the staff, it’s “just business” at that point... for us, it’s the end of the universe, the torn edge of the map, the frightening blank space... there be dragons, and time is no longer on our side...
He holds you still, smiling, laughing; forever holding you up; bracing the unknown stormy waters, just for you, forever.

Hugs


Sent from my iPhone using Grieving.com

[KayC]

I was with my husband when he started having his fatal heart attack, I alerted them (in the hospital) and they came running...but they threw me off the ward and locked the door behind me so I could not be with him to the end, it upsets me still that they didn't allow me to be in there as we were always together through thick and thin.  I don't know if he was able to grasp what they did, it pains me to think he might have felt I abandoned him, I hope and pray not.  He was everything in the world to me.

[foreverhis]

17 hours ago, BBB said:

I'll share a story that some of you will smile at while others will think I was hallucinating

Honestly, I don't think anyone here would find that the least bit surprising.  Maybe one or two haven't, but almost all of us have had moments or events which we know, absolutely know in our hearts, were signs or "communication." 

Why wouldn't your heart and every cell of your being be attuned to her?  Our connection to our soulmates is so strong that not even death can break the emotional bonds.

I knew my husband's last breath not only because he did not take another, but because I felt it.  I felt my heart shatter further and suddenly was truly alone.

[Jttalways]

My husband was in ICU for 2 days with a f-ing tube down his throat before he passed. He tried so hard to wake up. Lifted his hands and arms several times and his eyes rolled towards me everytime i spoke to him. It was the most horrible thing i have ever gone thru and i still have trauma and PTSD from it. There was no death rattle, maybe because of the ventilator. I was by his beside but someone was speaking to me so I wasnt looking at him. His heart stopped, the machine beeped the long continuous beep, i turned and looked at his face and i knew he was gone. I will forever regret not speaking to him and kissing him at the exact moment he passed. I was holding his hand but i was not looking at him. I blame the nurses. They knew he was going to pass soon. 5 minutes before he passed, they were watching his heart monitor machine intently and checked his pulse manually by hand and stethoscope. I asked "what's wrong?" and they didnt answer me. They didnt say anything to me because they didnt want me to tell them to be ready to resuscitate him. They had spent the hour before trying to talk me out of resuscitating him if his heart were to stop. 

[Guest Sue4]

Yes, and I still have flash-backs from his unexpected death and the last 12 hours of his life. I will never recover from the trauma. It is so painful.

[Jttalways]

@sue4 yes it is the dagger in my heart, my greatest sorrow and heartbreak 

[jwahlquist]

16 hours ago, Art Thebes said:

 

I know that for the staff, it’s “just business” at that point... for us, it’s the end of the universe, the torn edge of the map, the frightening blank space... there be dragons, and time is no longer on our side...
He holds you still, smiling, laughing; forever holding you up; bracing the unknown stormy waters, just for you, forever.

Hugs


Sent from my iPhone using Grieving.com

 

Actually the hospital where my husband was had the most phenomenal ICU nurses.   They were so amazing to me & our daughter.  They were kind, compassionate and so very nice.   The day shift nurse called in to check on how he was doing when she had to take a day off because her son was sick.  The night shift nurse came in on his day off because he heard we were taking my husband off life support and he wanted to tell me how sorry he was.  He gave me a big hug.  So some hospitals have amazing staff.  

[foreverhis]

15 hours ago, Art Thebes said:

I know that for the staff, it’s “just business” at that point... for us, it’s the end of the universe, the torn edge of the map, the frightening blank space... there be dragons, and time is no longer on our side.

Though the doctor was very kind, he was also matter-of-fact.  But the nurses and CNAs continued to be so caring and kind.  They encouraged me to stay with my love, to hold him and talk to him.  When it was time and the people came to take his body to the funeral home, they gently helped me away, talking about how much they liked him, his sense of humor, and his love for me.  They let me run back to him to hold him one more time and tell him I will always love him.  Finally, they helped me gather all of our things and carry them to the car.  The CNAs who did that told me how sorry they were and that they liked him very much.

Yes, there were things that had to be done, but they didn't make me feel like his dying meant their work was done.

[Jttalways]

The majority of the hospital staff were kind and treated my husband very well. My husband’s chemo nurses were amazing. They still keep in contact with me. My only gripe is with the 2 veteran ICU nurses that were with me the night my husband passed. They wanted me to take my husband off life support. They clicked their tongues at me and shook their head when I said I wanted my husband to be resuscitated. They gave me looks that said “there’s no helping him, you’re just prolonging the inevitable.” They tried to make me feel guilty like I was causing my husband unnecessary pain. To those 2 nurses it was “just business.”   

[foreverhis]

On 8/11/2020 at 6:20 PM, BBB said:

But I, like you, will never get those images out of my head. 

I don't think it's possible and, honestly, I'm not sure I'd want to let those images go.  They are the most painful, devastating of my life--but they are mine.  They are a reminder to me that it was only death that "did us part" for now.  Those images are as much a part of our life together as my memory of the first time he kissed me (really kissed me) in my apartment kitchen.  That memory is as strong, lasting, and important.  The wonderful, the funny, the everyday, and the painful are all part of our life together.

I know some people can't stand to be there at the end.  I do not judge them in any way.  There is no right answer for this most personal and really intimate of moments.  But my heart hurts so much for Kay because they wouldn't let her be there with her beloved George.  That was so wrong, IMO.  They must have known they couldn't save him by then.  She should have been allowed to say goodbye and to make sure he knew she was there.

[KayC]

I am so sorry for all of your experiences, this is the hardest thing we'll ever have to go through, undoubtedly, I can't imagine worse, losing one's kids is up there too, a huge fear.  I don't think we ever take life for granted after such profound loss.

[foreverhis]

40 minutes ago, KayC said:

I don't think we ever take life for granted after such profound loss.

No, we don't.

I get angry when people seem to take their loves and the people in their lives for granted.  No one in our close circle does that, they know what is precious and fragile, but I think that my husband's death reinforced that even more.  They also all know that some day it will happen to them.  One of them will be left to struggle on alone.  And so they have stepped up to help me with my own struggles, without telling me how I should be or to "move on" or anything like that.

I've discovered I have a bit of a split personality too.  During the lock down/stay-at-home, I've seen strangers interviewed or talking on the news about how "My spouse is driving me crazy." or "I can't take being locked up with my family for months on end."  I want to scream at them, "You think it's hard for you?  Try doing this alone!  I dare you!  Be thankful that your spouse and your family are there to irritate you.  I'd give anything to have my love bugging the heck out of me occasionally." 

Yet, if it's someone close to me/us, I'm completely sympathetic.  A few weeks ago, a good friend came over for a little S-D (socially-distanced) chat.  She adores her husband of more than 20 years and he is still ga-ga over her.  But he was annoying her that day and she just needed to vent, which I encouraged. 

My sister mentioned that she's glad she has her private studio to go to a few days a week because her husband has been working from home full time for months.  They are as deeply bonded as my husband and I were.  In fact, the four of us have always been very close, despite the age differences (she was the mid-life "oops" and my husband was 10 years older than me).  They are each other's best friend, confidante, sweetheart, lover, and simply everything.  They'd rather be with each other than anyone else.  But even they need a little "alone" time from time to time, just like my husband and I did.  I completely understand why she is happy to get on her bicycle, ride over to her studio, and work for a few hours.

Maybe it's because the people I/we know and love don't take what they have for granted that I'm fine with them needing a little "break" from time to time.  Knowing that they value each other in every way let's me say, "Oh, it's okay if you need a little moment to vent."  I'm perfectly well aware that in a way that makes me a hypocrite.  I don't care.

 

[Michelene]

Yes, my Eric went into sudden cardiac arrest and I did CPR until the medics came but he did not come back. I  had a horror of myself for so long. A friend, who is Native American and a Physician's assistant here, told me, "I don't know what you believe, but I know what I believe, and the last thing Eric's spirit experienced on Earth was you trying to help him. He saw that."  It changed my outlook profoundly, and gave me a glimmer of hope. 

On 8/12/2020 at 2:21 AM, Art Thebes said:

the torn edge of the map, the frightening blank space... there be dragons, and time is no longer on our side...

Yes, the back of the beyond--this is beautifully stated. A different world with different signifiers. 

[Art Thebes]

6 hours ago, foreverhis said:

Maybe it's because the people I/we know and love don't take what they have for granted that I'm fine with them needing a little "break" from time to time.  Knowing that they value each other in every way let's me say, "Oh, it's okay if you need a little moment to vent."  I'm perfectly well aware that in a way that makes me a hypocrite.  I don't care.

You rock! Say it like it is! And preach, sister!

[Art Thebes]

42 minutes ago, Michelene said:

Yes, the back of the beyond--this is beautifully stated. A different world with different signifiers. 

So true! 
 

today, I am grateful for a dear friend, someone of whom, gives more than they get, asks nothing in return, and tells me to stuff my “sorries” in a sock and stuff it in a drawer. 
 

in a world where a 16 pointed compass, could never lead me north, they reached out through their pain, to wrap me and envelop me, in their dear and true kindness. 
 

Aye, yes, there be dragons... and unexpected angles, at the doorstep. 
 

I am, and remain forever grateful, towards not only those who are broken, or those that take a beat and catch, when by all rights, they should pitch... but for each and every one of you. 
 

~AT

[KayC]

23 hours ago, foreverhis said:

I've seen strangers interviewed or talking on the news about how "My spouse is driving me crazy." or "I can't take being locked up with my family for months on end."  I want to scream at them, "You think it's hard for you?  Try doing this alone!  I dare you!

I've felt the same way.  I saw the media cover people on the verge of divorce over being locked in together, to everything else...except for widows going it alone in this.  I think they don't want to touch it.  Odd they avoided this segment as it comprises a fair amount of people.  My neighbors seemed not to mind the lock down as they had each other, kids playing badminton together, parents working in the yard, having barbecues...it's different when you're alone.  How I'd love to be shut in with MY husband!

[foreverhis]

18 hours ago, Art Thebes said:

You rock! Say it like it is! And preach, sister!

Thanks, Art.  I've found that admitting my own foibles is helpful.  I'm not even ashamed of it these days.

I really love what you wrote here:

On 8/12/2020 at 3:21 AM, Art Thebes said:

for us, it’s the end of the universe, the torn edge of the map, the frightening blank space... there be dragons, and time is no longer on our side...

When I was a child, I loved the book At the Back of the North Wind.  Of course, now I know it is a moralizing religious allegory/fairy tale that is really heavy handed.  Then, I could picture a child being shown the paradise that was at the back of the North Wind.

Definitely, our loves have ventured into the uncharted waters.  And if dragons be there, I would hope they are the dragons of Pern. (I still have paperbacks of pretty much the whole series, which I read as the books came out.)  It's funny how medieval imagery still rings true for us today, just in a slightly different way.

Time is definitely not on our side.  But I suppose, in a way, it never was.  It seems to me that we can all define eternity on earth as "Every moment I am not with the one I love most."

((hugs))

[Dazed&Confused]

Yes. She woke me up saying she couldn't breathe and to help her. I called 911. She was thrashing around trying to get air. Could not be still at all. She was fighting for her life. She told me she was dying. She went unresponsive just as the ambulance drove up. I told them to get the **** in here. I knew before they ever set foot in the house she was gone, although still breathing a little bit. They tried and tried. I stayed in the room with them holding my wife's feet and praying, talking to her. Begging her to come back. They called her 30 minutes later. Gave me a few minutes with her alone on the thing they carried her out on. I brushed her hair and kissed her forehead. The scene never leaves my mind. Everyone I talked to said it was a pulmonary embolism. This past Friday (Aug 14) was 31 weeks.

 

[KayC]

@Dazed&Confused  That last bit of time we had with them, that fateful time, we never forget any moment of it, it is with us always.  I feel for you, it is not unlike many of our stories/memories. 

 

[Heartlight]

On 8/11/2020 at 7:20 PM, BBB said:

Similar experience and it is very difficult to share. But I, like you, will never get those images out of my head. 

I'll share a story that some of you will smile at while others will think I was hallucinating. My wife went into the death rattle around 4am. I called hospice and they said this was normal and she had about 23 hours to live. I went into my den and laid in the recliner. Around 5:50 AM my body started to shake and I felt something lift out of me. I knew her soul had just gone and ran out to the living room where her hospital bed was. I looked down at what once was a very pronounced pulse in her neck and nothing. I held her crying for what seemed like hours but was minutes and then called hospice to tell them she was gone.

I am sorry to take the thread off topic but I need to say thank you for this.

When my father was dying, I left the hospital to take my mother home (something they both wanted).  We both slept on a couch in her living room that night.  At about 4:30 in the morning, I was feeling very trance-like, feeling, I imagined, what it must feel like to let go of the physical trappings.  Suddenly, I felt myself letting go and I bolt upright, in a panic, thinking I was creating my own death.  

Later that morning, I can't remember but around 7, we got the call from my sister who had stayed at the hospital that he had passed in the night.  The nurse told me when I arrived that she thinks it was around 4:30.

But I've never put those times together.  Until now.

And I need to say thank you because I have been tortured by that experience for years.  But now, with you sharing that experience, I have to think about it differently.  

Thank you.

<3

[Meloncholy]

Sorry if this is too hard on anyone here but wanting to know if people here actually watched their spouse die. I did through home hospice and frankly it was horrible. The worst was the last hours during the "death rattle". I cannot get that out of my head nor can I get the images of when I went to her and the pulse in her neck, which had been very pronounced, was no longer. That image also haunts me. 

I wasn’t with my spouse but I was with my dad and you never forget the death rattle—-so sorry!


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[Leon]

On 8/11/2020 at 5:13 PM, BBB said:

Sorry if this is too hard on anyone here but wanting to know if people here actually watched their spouse die. I did through home hospice and frankly it was horrible. The worst was the last hours during the "death rattle". I cannot get that out of my head nor can I get the images of when I went to her and the pulse in her neck, which had been very pronounced, was no longer. That image also haunts me. 

I was there with her. I was staying in that hospital room with her for the last 100 hours or so. Like everything else, we were doing this together, her and me. Her breathing was shallow at the end, there was nothing to see or hear there. I watched the vein in her neck. And then it stopped.