September 13^th and 14^th 2024

Another day at the hospital watching labs and meeting with the doctor. We are feeling positive, and the team is going to attempt dialysis again. If that is successful, they will attempt to do a form of dialysis that takes fluid off the body but doesn’t return it. This is imperative to remove some of the fluid accumulation from all the IV’s. Mark is carrying 80 extra pounds of fluid.

In the late afternoon they attempt SLED (a slower form of dialysis) and are having some success. We are so elated; it is the first time it has worked! The machines are giving them some issues so we all headed home feeling confident that they would be able to remove some of the fluid buildup.

How did it all go so wrong so fast? Or does it just seem that way because we were so focused on each small win?

The next morning, the 14^th, we gathered for coffee in the early hours to go over the chart notes for the night before we headed for the hospital. I didn’t read them, Sarah always looked them over and gave us any pertinent info.

She didn’t share much but I didn’t notice. I think she showed something to Robin, but I didn’t think anything unusual about it. The note she showed Robin said, “patient is actively dying.” That statement still sends a wave of fear through me. I hate that the nurse/doctor wrote that while we, or I, still had hope. Still believed he would live.

I wonder now, was I just unable to accept what was obvious to so many others?

We arrived at the hospital, and we all went in to talk to Mark, encourage him and tell him how much we loved him.

Around 10:00 Dr. Richey came into the waiting room and asked if everyone who was in the hospital was present. I said yes. He’d never asked that before and it made me afraid.

I think I wrote this earlier but I’m not sure. We had received a devastating report from another ICU doctor earlier in the week. We were very upset, and Dr. Richey came and talked to us and said,” I don’t want you to listen to anyone but me. When there is hope, I will tell you, and when there is no hope, I will be honest with you.

He was a man of his word.

The evening of the 13^th Mark had been unable to tolerate the removal of fluid.  His blood pressure would plumet and they had to stop.  In the course of the night and the early hours of the morning of the 14^th he then started to decompensate. That’s the word they used.

 He developed two blood infections, he had massive pulmonary edema, and right ventricular failure. Dr. Richey called the shock team at Swedish to confer about mechanical support. Their consensus was that it would not change the outcome. The shock to his body was profound and all his organs were affected.

As he was relating this to us, I just had to ask the obvious question. I said, “Are you telling us he is going to die.

He replied yes. He said, I can keep him alive for 5 minutes, five hours or five days. As long as you need. I know I was in shock. I couldn’t grasp it, yet I knew. I said no, I do not want to keep him alive in this condition any longer than necessary. But there are people who need to be here when he leaves us. As it turns out, it was a good decision, Mark was not going to live through the next couple of hours.

Some of his children were not there, nor were his sisters. Everyone needed a chance to say goodbye. What I did not see coming is that my two oldest grandchildren would want to see him. The twins were just fifteen years old. I could not imagine they could handle this. I was so wrong. Love is a powerful thing.

Our twins, Jack and Lola, are my oldest daughter’s children. She had been protecting them from the seriousness of it because she, like me, thought he would live. She called and talked to them to let them know that their Pops was dying and they said they absolutely wanted to see him.

Let me tell you about getting your heart ripped out. Listening to your son tell his dad that he will take care of Mom and the farm, listening to your daughters tell their dad how much they love him and that they too will take care of Mom. It’s unimaginable. The pure love and the devastating grief are emotions so overwhelming that you can only survive them in a state of shock.

Then add on two fifteen-year-olds, devasted and way too young to be dealing with this. Telling pops how much they love him, thanking him for being their coach and grandpa. For all the years they had together.

His sisters holding his hand and letting him know what he meant to them. Each having time alone with him.

Those images and voices are seared into my soul. I can recall it today as if I’m there in that hospital room.

We all gathered around his bed. They removed the ventilator, and we all helped him leave this earth. We stayed at his bedside for some time. After a bit I asked everyone if I could be alone with him.

There are no words, nor would I write them if I could summon them. There is no way to convey the emotions and grief and shock and pain of saying goodbye to your person of 50 plus years. It is profound and overwhelming, and we are in shock for a reason.

After some time, I walked out to the waiting room and there were questions about where the body goes and what funeral home. Thankfully, I have amazingly capable and kind sons in law. They handled all of that.

All I could see was the anguished faces of my people. I felt like I was going to fly off the face of the earth. I had to get out of that place. I said I want to go home. I said I’m ok, I can drive my car. Saner heads prevailed. I think John drove my car and I rode home with Robin and Lola. As we drove, we listened to Linda Ronstadt’s Long, Long Time. I’m not sure how Robin drove. Tears were streaming down our faces. I had no idea the level of pain ahead of me. I am so grateful for my family. They are my heart and soul, they have kept me from losing my mind, they are the greatest gift Mark gave me.

Long Long Time/ Linda Ronstadt/ excerpts

Love will abide
Take things in stride
Sounds like good advice
But there's no one at my side
And time washes clean love's wounds unseen
That's what someone told me
But I don't know what it means.

And I think I'm gonna miss you
For a long long time.

And I think I'm gonna love you
For a long, long time.