The day my father died was the day that changed my life. Before his death, I had suffered through a terrible suicide attempt. It was your boyfriend that convinced me to call my mom after I had taken all those pills. I wanted to go away and I did what I could to make that happen. Fortunately enough, through his tears and sobs, I was convinced to get medical help. Someone I've never met but have known for years, cried for me. He cried because he was scared and I imagine he cried because we were close friends. My father never knew of this hospitalization. He was there through the other two trips to the psych ward. But we felt that he was too sick to worry about this. The day that he passed was the most calming and yet the most anxiety provoked day.
We sat there in his ICU room, holding his hand, watching the machine breathe for him. In and out, in and out. It was keeping him alive. We kept him alive a day longer than he should have been. We wanted him to be an organ donor. We felt it was the right thing to do because he was on the lung transplant list. Watching that machine breathe for him was heart wretching. We were taken to a hospitality room while he was wheeled off to the operating room. I was walking down the hall with my sister and step mom and I saw them wheeling him off in the other direction. at that moment, it began. I knew this was it. This is really going to happen. My chest tightened and I couldn't breathe. I started to get sweaty and really hot. I couldn't breathe. The air wasn't there. As we walked in the hospitality room I collapsed into a chair. We waited for what seemed like forever. They were preparing him for the extubation of the ventilator. We talked with the organ donor guy and he was there to support us in anyway. My sister and I just cried. There was nothing we could do. It was time. We walked to the OR room and they took out the breathing tube. I was so scared, I couldn't watch. I thought it was going to hurt him and that he's start gasping for air and choking. I turned back around and watched him. The only sounds in the room were that of my sister and I. Every now and then you'd hear my step mom saying it was ok to him. There were a team of doctor's and nurses standing by. It was quiet. Calming and soothing. It was heart wretching and shattering. We watched him fight for air, but delicately. There were no sounds of the machines. They turned the sound off. He continued to fight for air but yet, the air couldn't find his lungs. at 9:59 am he took his last breath. The doctor came over to check on his heart and lungs. My dad was gone.
The moments following his passing were the most significant. I said good bye to my dad, and I finally told him I loved him. I said it like he was alive to hear it. I had only said it to him a handful of times in my life. He was gone. My dad,the man who helped me through so much, was gone. We were taken back to the hospitality room to collect ourselves then we walked out of the hospital. On the drive back to his condo the sun came out through the thick black clouds. It was my dad. Telling me he was finally at peace and that he was happy with where he was. From that day forward I told myself I was going to live on for my dad. He wanted to live but his body wouldn't allow him. So, I am going to continue living for him. He will live on through me. There was no point in committing suicide. It was stupid, why would I want to end my life when my dad was fighting for his?
I understand how this could have been hard to write. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to watch a parent die, but I feel for you all the same.
I do know you are a very strong woman, and you very well deserve a friend such like Brandon to help you through such a hardship. I'm really happy you first handily experienced the compassion, the honesty, and heart of gold this man has to offer his friends. I really hope that when others read this they take an extra second to really think about the lives it would save for choosing to be an organ donor.
Thank you for sharing your story, Kim. In one life, being my own and having chose to become an organ donor myself, you did make a difference :]
We sat there in his ICU room, holding his hand, watching the machine breathe for him. In and out, in and out. It was keeping him alive. We kept him alive a day longer than he should have been. We wanted him to be an organ donor. We felt it was the right thing to do because he was on the lung transplant list. Watching that machine breathe for him was heart wretching. We were taken to a hospitality room while he was wheeled off to the operating room. I was walking down the hall with my sister and step mom and I saw them wheeling him off in the other direction. at that moment, it began. I knew this was it. This is really going to happen. My chest tightened and I couldn't breathe. I started to get sweaty and really hot. I couldn't breathe. The air wasn't there. As we walked in the hospitality room I collapsed into a chair. We waited for what seemed like forever. They were preparing him for the extubation of the ventilator. We talked with the organ donor guy and he was there to support us in anyway. My sister and I just cried. There was nothing we could do. It was time. We walked to the OR room and they took out the breathing tube. I was so scared, I couldn't watch. I thought it was going to hurt him and that he's start gasping for air and choking. I turned back around and watched him. The only sounds in the room were that of my sister and I. Every now and then you'd hear my step mom saying it was ok to him. There were a team of doctor's and nurses standing by. It was quiet. Calming and soothing. It was heart wretching and shattering. We watched him fight for air, but delicately. There were no sounds of the machines. They turned the sound off. He continued to fight for air but yet, the air couldn't find his lungs. at 9:59 am he took his last breath. The doctor came over to check on his heart and lungs. My dad was gone.
The moments following his passing were the most significant. I said good bye to my dad, and I finally told him I loved him. I said it like he was alive to hear it. I had only said it to him a handful of times in my life. He was gone. My dad,the man who helped me through so much, was gone. We were taken back to the hospitality room to collect ourselves then we walked out of the hospital. On the drive back to his condo the sun came out through the thick black clouds. It was my dad. Telling me he was finally at peace and that he was happy with where he was. From that day forward I told myself I was going to live on for my dad. He wanted to live but his body wouldn't allow him. So, I am going to continue living for him. He will live on through me. There was no point in committing suicide. It was stupid, why would I want to end my life when my dad was fighting for his?
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I do know you are a very strong woman, and you very well deserve a friend such like Brandon to help you through such a hardship. I'm really happy you first handily experienced the compassion, the honesty, and heart of gold this man has to offer his friends. I really hope that when others read this they take an extra second to really think about the lives it would save for choosing to be an organ donor.
Thank you for sharing your story, Kim.
In one life, being my own and having chose to become an organ donor myself, you did make a difference :]
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