Death is hard...
My dad passed away from his battle with cancer on Saturday night, May 11th 2013 11:42pm.
I have so many emotions about this, it's kind of hard to put them all in order. I've been going back and forth between fine, a hot mess and numb.
I thought that at learning he had passed, I would feel this kind of instant relief from all of the anxiety I've been having for the past year, but it didn't. Instead, it was replaced with all kinds of guilt for the things I should have done and didn't, or things I handled badly and anxiety for all I need to get done now.
For example, there was a 2 week period where I didn't see him at all because I was sick, and as he'd been on chemo and his immune system was compromised, I didn't want to pass it to him. SO I had to cancel with him 4 times (I was seeing him twice a week). He got upset with me after the 4th time, and said he felt like I didn't care about him at all. Instead of consoling him, I got angry with him and told him I'm doing everything I can, I already have my work schedule all screwed around so I can be with him as much as possible and I am handling all of his finances. In hindsight, he was just lonely and scared, and I shouldn't have been a bitch and reminded him of all I was doing for him. I should have been more understanding.
I regret not staying longer to be with him on the last Thursday I saw him. I wish I had sat on his bed with him longer and held his hand more and told him how much I loved him. I didn't know it was going to be the last time I was going to see him.
I knew he had been declining, that was obvious, but I had an appointment to go and look at this really promising nursing facility for him, and I figured that was the next step. But then randomly on Saturday, he just died. I've been prepared for him to go for a long time now, but I thought we still had at least two weeks. I guess it's just a lesson that with life, you can never tell.
Timeline happened like this:
Dad fell on Saturday morning. He was taken to the ER where they did scans to make sure he had no internal bleeding. Upon finding that there was no bleeding, my father refused any further care even though he was highly dehydrated and his blood sugar had spiked to over 700. (Normal is around 118.) They sent him home.
Around 8pm, one of the hospice nurses went in to check on him and felt that he was bad enough off that they should say a prayer. They tell me my dad said "amen." Then when the hospice nurse checked back in on him at around 11, he was unresponsive. He was pronounced dead at 11:42pm.
During all of this...NO ONE FUCKING CALLED ME! I could have gone to his house and sat with him, held his hand, let him know he wasn't alone. Instead, he just died by himself because no one thought to give me a call. I have been in constant contact with these hospice people, they all know me, and they have always let me know what is going on with my Dad. You know, until it really counted, then no one contacted me. It was a Saturday, I could have gone down there and spent all day with him! I'm just so mad that I missed this opportunity to really say goodbye and be a comfort to him.
Relief- I'm still waiting to feel it. None of this feels real right now. I keep feeling like I'll see him again soon, like I still need to head down to see him tomorrow, even though my brain grips the reality that he has passed.
I have so many emotions about this, it's kind of hard to put them all in order. I've been going back and forth between fine, a hot mess and numb.
I thought that at learning he had passed, I would feel this kind of instant relief from all of the anxiety I've been having for the past year, but it didn't. Instead, it was replaced with all kinds of guilt for the things I should have done and didn't, or things I handled badly and anxiety for all I need to get done now.
For example, there was a 2 week period where I didn't see him at all because I was sick, and as he'd been on chemo and his immune system was compromised, I didn't want to pass it to him. SO I had to cancel with him 4 times (I was seeing him twice a week). He got upset with me after the 4th time, and said he felt like I didn't care about him at all. Instead of consoling him, I got angry with him and told him I'm doing everything I can, I already have my work schedule all screwed around so I can be with him as much as possible and I am handling all of his finances. In hindsight, he was just lonely and scared, and I shouldn't have been a bitch and reminded him of all I was doing for him. I should have been more understanding.
I regret not staying longer to be with him on the last Thursday I saw him. I wish I had sat on his bed with him longer and held his hand more and told him how much I loved him. I didn't know it was going to be the last time I was going to see him.
I knew he had been declining, that was obvious, but I had an appointment to go and look at this really promising nursing facility for him, and I figured that was the next step. But then randomly on Saturday, he just died. I've been prepared for him to go for a long time now, but I thought we still had at least two weeks. I guess it's just a lesson that with life, you can never tell.
Timeline happened like this:
Dad fell on Saturday morning. He was taken to the ER where they did scans to make sure he had no internal bleeding. Upon finding that there was no bleeding, my father refused any further care even though he was highly dehydrated and his blood sugar had spiked to over 700. (Normal is around 118.) They sent him home.
Around 8pm, one of the hospice nurses went in to check on him and felt that he was bad enough off that they should say a prayer. They tell me my dad said "amen." Then when the hospice nurse checked back in on him at around 11, he was unresponsive. He was pronounced dead at 11:42pm.
During all of this...NO ONE FUCKING CALLED ME! I could have gone to his house and sat with him, held his hand, let him know he wasn't alone. Instead, he just died by himself because no one thought to give me a call. I have been in constant contact with these hospice people, they all know me, and they have always let me know what is going on with my Dad. You know, until it really counted, then no one contacted me. It was a Saturday, I could have gone down there and spent all day with him! I'm just so mad that I missed this opportunity to really say goodbye and be a comfort to him.
Relief- I'm still waiting to feel it. None of this feels real right now. I keep feeling like I'll see him again soon, like I still need to head down to see him tomorrow, even though my brain grips the reality that he has passed.