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I spent the majority of 6 days in the waiting room of a hospital praying to hear that my cousin was awake.On Friday, Nov. 30, 2001 I woke up to a late-night phone call from my aunt saying that my cousin, Dan, was in the hospital after having an asthma attack. How bad could it be, I thought? He probably took his inhaler, still couldn't catch his breathe and went to the hospital as a precaution. He's fine, I thought. But, then I heard my dads end of the conversation with my aunt, and I knew it was much worse. Dan was transferred to United Hospital in St. Paul in a coma. I didn't sleep much that night, and got up early the next morning to go to the hospital.
No one could have prepared me for walking into his room and seeing my cousin pale and lifeless on a bed with a machine breathing for him. I was so shocked that I felt nothing. I was in denial. I kept telling myself that he's going to be fine and wake up and start hitting on the nurses.
A 22-year-old guy is not supposed to be relying on a piece of equipment to keep his heart pumping and his lungs breathing. He was always very energetic, always had a mischievous smile, always had some plan or scheme in the back of his mind, and always protected me. Dan was one of my best friends.
The nurses told us to talk to him like normal. I had trouble with this because it just seemed to weird for me. We had plans to get together on Dec. 1, and I teased him saying that this was not they way we were supposed to meet up! I also told him that this is a good chance for me to paint his toe nails. I got no response.
The week went by with me driving back and forth from St. Cloud to St. Paul. It was the week before finals, so I couldn't miss classes. It was one of the most difficult times of my life. I called to check in whenever I wasn't in class and always heard the same thing: there's nothing new.
When I remember back to this week, there's some things that I'll never forget. Like the song that was on the radio in my car while I was driving to the hospital on Wednesday when my mom called to tell me that Dan was declared brain dead. She wasn't going to tell my because I was driving, but I begged her. Enrique Iglesius' "Hero", I will never forget. I will also never forget "Saints and Angels" by Sara Evans because that was the next song I heard. Both seemed fitting to the situation.
So, on Thursday night my aunt and uncle made the toughest decision of their lives-- to end the life of their son. There was no improvement, no changes to Dan's condition. I remember walking out of the emergency entrance of United Hospital on Thursday night knowing that I would never walk through those doors again hopeful that Dan was up and awake and that this whole ordeal was over. And, that's when the reality of his death hit me. I collapsed on a bench in a little garden outside the hospital and sobbed. Mike was there, and he held me while I cried outside in the freezing cold.
It was over.
Each year at this time I get my old photos out and shed a tear or two-- maybe even three! I still miss him, and hope that I'll never forget the memories I have right now.
Dan and I were in my aunt's wedding when we were young. We grew up doing everything together. My senior year of high school, Dan went to prom with one of my best friends. Coincidentally, we were wearing the same colors as we were in the photo12 years before that!
Andrea, I remember when this happened - very scary. I can not believe it's already been eight years. I'm thinkin of you tonight. Anne
ReplyDeleteGreat writing, Annie! Those days were some of the hardest I've ever lived. As his mom, when his heart stopped, so did mine. I held his head in the crook of my arm, with my other hand on his chest and, Yes, I felt his last heartbeat. Our entire family was absolutely devastated. I don't know if you knew this, but the doc in St. Croix Falls had actually called his time of death after he was unresponsive for 30 minutes. Then, in his typical "fooled ya"! way, his heart started again. Then he was transferred. We were so torn as the neurologist, an older doc, never gave us any hope of his making it and the pulminologist, a young doc, gave us every hope. Of course we heard the latter, so he developed pneumonia on day 3 at United, we didn't give up hope and then on day 4 when they said his other lung had pneumonia and they had to insert a pneumothoracic tube into his chest, I never left his side. His heart raced up to 220 beats a minute and his blood pressure soared too and I told the doc, "If he could talk to you now, he'd be calling you every name in the book"! On day 5 I noticed his feeding tube wasn't moving anything into him. It had stalled for some reason. The neurologist cleared us out so quickly! The next morning he told us that Dan was brain dead, that there was no hope of his making it out of the situation. Even though he had passed the 72 hour critical period for his circumstances, his system was shutting down, he was really having episodes of heart "attacks" which would only continue and were stressing his physical body even more. We called in a donor team, but his white count was critically elevated so he wasn't a candidate to donate anything. That was more than I could bear, as I hoped even in our painful time, someone could still benefit and some good could happen. So, as you know, we called together family and friends to say their last goodbyes and the immediate family set a time to have him disconnected, Thursday, Dec. 6, 2001. It is a day that for the rest of my life will be a sad reminder of our son passing from us.
ReplyDeleteDo you remember how many people lined the hallway of the hospital waiting for us to emerge from that room? There had to be about 100. In Dan's final 20 minutes, the alarms, buzzers, screens, etc. were turned off, we sang to him, prayed for him, kissed him, hugged him and I know Jesus was standing amidst us too, weeping for us, but smiling because Dan passed from our arms into His.
OH!! What a celebration there had to have been in heaven and then a rockin' jam session that Dan was on lead guitar for and a mic in front of him so he could sing in his beautiful voice to the King of Kings.
Over 1,200 people attended his celebration of life service. The local police directed traffic for 45 minutes from the church out onto the highway and do you remember the Chief's car following the hearse with it's "blueberries and cherries" and wig-wags flashing. I know Dan was laughing out loud!
I already wrote this, but had to cut the first comment because it was too long! Here goes:
ReplyDeleteI don't know if I ever told you that 2 yrs. after Dan's death, I had my 29th bout of pneumonia and was in serious condition. My doc wanted to send me to United, same unit as Dan died in, my husband said "no, she won't ever return". My doc made house calls to monitor me. As I drifted in and out, I was with Dan,hiking in the mtns. canoeing lovely rivers with green leaf canopies over us, riding bikes, etc. After 3 days of this, I said, "This makes no sense, you're gone from me and yet here you are". He, smiling that big grin of his and said, "Yes, I have passed from your world, but this is my area of heaven where God has me now I want you to stay with me". I said,"I can't, I have kids that still need me". Dan hugged me, saying he would be waiting for me. I awoke and started to get better. When I shared this with my doc, he panicked, saying, "You were at death's door and were given the choice where you wanted to be. If I had known, I would have ordered your transfer". I believe God game me a gift of seeing him, happy and well. My healing started then. I know he's waiting and when it is my time, he'll help me pass over. OH! What a reunion that will be. He loved you too-very much-and always looked forward to time together with you. We will all see him again and I'm certain he's got all the great places scoped out to show us. He was always up for an adventure-death was his ultimate!
Thank you for the friendship you shared with him. His "buds" were his life's treasure.
At your wedding, I was honored to stand in his place and share a dance with the bride. I know he was watching and grinning.
He's always with you in your heart. Can you hear his voice and laughter? I can if I shut my eyes.
Love ya!
Oh my gosh! tears......
ReplyDeleteThank you.