DISCLAIMER: Included in this blog are photos that will provide visuals of the progression of how he looked in those final days. I will even include the 2 days before he was admitted into the hospital.
This was Randy on November 1, 2019
This was Randy on November 2, 2019 on what would be our final date day. We did everything he wanted to do that day before having a quiet evening to ourselves at my parents' house while they were away.
Randy was scheduled to have IV fluid on November 3rd. That morning, my stomach was a little off so I wasn't drinking my coffee and Randy noticed. He asked if I was okay and I told him that my stomach was upset. He asked me if I wanted to stay home and I told him no. I knew he had been up all night puking and I was not going to let him drive himself to the hospital for the hydration appointment. He asked if I was sure I didn't want to rest and I looked at him and said, "I don't know if you have realized it but I have to put how I feel aside in order to take care of you." Randy replied, "I know you do. Do you regret marrying me?" I was horrified at this question. "I will NEVER regret marrying you. I love you." I told him.
Randy had a deep rooted fear of me leaving because his mother divorced the man he called his father when he was diagnosed with lymphoma. Deep down, I think he knew that I was never going to leave but sometimes he needed a verbal reassurance.
Randy tried to take his medicine but it came up within seconds! I don't know why but all of it came up brown... all over our white blanket. I stood up and told him to go take a shower and I went and put the blanket in the washer. We went to the infusion center and he was in worse shape than when the nurses saw him on the 1st. They called the on-call oncologist who told them to take him to the ER. Randy was very bloated and his oncologist (saw him November 1) believed that to be a fluid build up that they needed to drain (scheduled for November 6). My husband was admitted into the hospital on November 3. Prior to this hospital stay, we were NOT given a prognosis. I was blindsided by the prognosis that the on-call oncologist gave me. He told me that if Randy's liver function didn't improve, he would only have a few weeks left. I resent the fact that I had to be the one to tell Randy this news. I should not have been the one. I, the wife, should not have had to hold my husband's hand while I am sobbing, telling him we may only have weeks left together and the doctor is telling me to ask if he would rather be in an in-patient hospice care or have home care. My husband told me, repeatedly, that he would be fine and that I shouldn't worry about him. I kept shaking my head, telling him that I CAN'T lose him. I wasn't ready.
Randy's lactic acid number was 10.5 upon admittance whereas a normal human is 2. My parents were scheduled to be in Florida November 16-23 and I told my mom that night that I was very afraid of her leaving right now. She said she felt it would be fine.
Our pastor came to visit him and pray over him that evening. Up until that point, I had never had a church leader visit anyone I knew in the hospital. It was comforting that Pastor Kirk cared and wanted to visit him.
Pastor Kirk ended up witnessing a portion of what Randy and I had been dealing with for a few months. When his sister arrived at 7:45PM, she didn't say "how are you feeling" or "can I get you anything"... nope! She looked at him and said, "You need to take off work and you need to tell your roommates to pay your bills." Randy said, "that's like telling your neighbors to pay your bills because you don't want to work." She disagreed but it wasn't her call to make. This is the kind of nonsense we had been dealing with for months. Randy looked at me and said, "I'm so tired." I stepped out of the room and found our nurse. He came in at 8PM and said visiting hours were over and they needed to leave. Randy needed rest.
This is Randy and his college buddy, Meagan after he was admitted into the hospital on November 3, 2019.
The next day, November 4, Randy's lactic acid number was 7.6 which was great! We were moving in the right direction! That excitement came to a crashing halt when I learned that his kidney function plummeted. I had a terrible feeling as so many doctors filtered in and out of the room throughout the morning and afternoon. I saw many doctors while Randy was in an attempted paracentesis to drain what they thought was fluid in his belly but we learned that it was actually gas. They couldn't put him in a MRI machine because of his kidney function so they did an ultrasound to see his liver and if the stent was a possibility. They wanted to see if they could put a stent into his biliary duct to buy us some time. They thought that maybe it would not only help his liver function but help his kidney function. There was a moment of discussion about dialysis. This was an ever changing day. Things changed by the minute! By 3pm, I was talking to a palliative care doctor who recommended that I talk with hospice the next day.
My second round of resentment comes with the fact that I had to be the one to tell his family that he would be moving into hospice care when he went home. They came into the room upset because they weren't getting updates through the day but things were ever changing. The fact of the matter was, by 5pm, we knew how bad things were. We knew that we were at the end of the road unless we were going to be blessed with miracle. Things looked bleak!
Randy's family started calling everyone who then filled the hospital room. His family only showed up for him when he was in a hospital bed. They were not there for him otherwise.
Pastor Kirk came to see him again and pray over him in the late afternoon. Our church friends stopped by as well. One brought him a beautiful Christmas quilt that he LOVED!
This photo is of Randy with my niece and nephew on November 4, 2019. Randy called my nephew his "little buddy".
On November 5, I heard the rattle in the early morning hours. Once I heard it, I couldn't bring myself to even attempt to sleep. That morning, I was blessed to have 3 coherent hours with him that morning. These are moments that I will forever cherish. I cradled his head on my chest as I began crying. My tears fell onto his head. "Why are you crying?" he asks me. "I just love you so much." I say as I look lovingly at his sweet face. "Do you know how much I love you?" I ask. Randy nods and replies, "I do." "Do you know that you're my world?" I ask. He smirks and with his sarcastic sense of humor, he replies, "nope!" Which makes me want to laugh. "Do you know that you've made my life?" and he does the same thing. He smirks and says, "nope!" "Yes you do! And you have!" I tell him. He smiles at me. "I love you" I say. "I love you too" he replies. "If you get there before I do, will you look after Stormy and Ezri?" I ask. "Of course." he tells me. "Do you remember when we were talking about a sign we would send when we got to the other side to let each other know that everything was fine?" I ask. He took a moment and told me "no". He didn't remember. "You told me you would send me a bird to our bedroom window. What bird are you sending to our window?" I ask. He took a minute and said, "A yellow canary."
I went through his advance directive with him. My husband wanted to know if he could donate his organs and unfortunately, he couldn't. The doctors told him that it was the thought that counts. Randy also refused to sign a DNR.
My mom got to the hospital fairly early. She brought me coffee and she unfortunately got there minutes after he received medicine. My mom asked me if I wanted her to postpone her trip. I told her I couldn't ask her to do that and she told me that I could. In the end, they did postpone that trip for me.
He received his medicine about a half hour before his mother came in and an hour before the doctor came in. When the doctor came in, he said that his kidney function was even worse than the previous day and at this point we were looking at days.
I started hyperventilating. Meagan held me.
Randy's brother mentioned that Randy's wish was to go home. This doctor said that it would not be the best idea because Randy wouldn't have 24/7 care and that I would have to do the work when the nurse wasn't there. That didn't matter to me. I had taken care of my husband up to this point and if I needed to do that, I was prepared to do so. I was determined to honor every last wish that my husband had. Fortunately, this statement by this doctor proved to be false. Because of the level of care that Randy needed, he would have 24/7 care in home hospice care.
When that doctor finally left the room, I left the room as well. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with my husband but that I needed a minute. I needed a minute to breathe and take in what they're saying. I needed a minute to compose myself. I learned that in that time, his mother was draped over him which is infuriating because his entire abdomen was sensitive and caused him so much pain. Instead of being mindful of that, she inflicted pain by laying on him.
They allowed me to sit in the conference room and collect myself in private. In that room, I met with the palliative care doctor, the oncologist, and hospice. These doctors and nurses that were coming to me in the conference room were telling me that Randy will go home, he will eventually slip into a coma and pass a few days later. In that room, I signed the required paperwork to enter Randy into home hospice care and for his transport home. I was able to ask any questions that I had or that my mom or his brother had.
I also learned that there was an attempted coup by his mother to try to get him put into in-patient hospice. She tried to convince the doctor to put him there but as the wife, I have the final say. As his POA, I get the final say. The day we got married, his mother was no longer the next of kin and she didn't like that concept. She wanted control and she wasn't getting any of it. This entire situation was about honoring RANDY'S wishes. My mother overheard it all and she told the doctor, "If you need to talk to someone about his care, his wife is in that room." I really thought this entire thing was about the fact that by him being in an in-patient, they'd have 24/7 access to him but that was not it. She believed that he would live longer if he was in the in-patient. She wanted him to be in pain and suffer longer so that she could have more time after wasting the entire year by not trying to see him and make the most of the time that she could have had. No one in his family made use of that time.
Pastor Kirk came to visit him once again but Randy was so in and out of consciousness that it was a rather quiet visit. He prayed over him one last time.
About an hour before I left to be there for the hospital bed, I told his brother about hearing the rattle. He either didn't believe me or didn't want to believe me. After I had left and was at home, I received a text from him saying he was hearing it and that it was getting worse.
I gathered my stuff and Randy's stuff to take home so that I could be there for the arrival of the hospital bed. As I am about to leave, Randy looks at me and says, "Hello beautiful!" I reply with "Hi handsome!" He smiles. (That was our thing. He would say "hello beautiful" and I would reply "hi handsome") I say to my mom, "Isn't he so handsome?" and she replied, "He was always handsome." "I know" I say. I tell Randy that I am headed home to be there for the hospital bed and that I would see him very soon. I went over to his bedside and gave him a kiss and told him that I loved him. He told me that he loved me too.
When I got home, I made sure that the area to put the hospital bed was clear. I then got the idea to put up the Christmas decor because that was his favorite holiday and I just knew that it would make him happy. I put up our Christmas tree, our stockings and other various decor items.
Randy arrived home just after 9pm on November 5, 2019. We got him situated in the hospital bed and when he opened his eyes, I told him that I put up the Christmas tree. He looked at me with wide eyes and asked, "where?!" and I pointed to the tree that was beside him. The biggest smile came across his face. Although I am the person that doesn't want to see, hear or think about Christmas until after thanksgiving, I made this exception and that was absolutely worth it! That smile was worth it!!
Randy was supposed to be sent home with liquid morphine and for whatever reason, he was sent home with pills. I helped the hospice nurse with it because he would focus on me and I would ask him to swallow for me. There was one time that it took more than 1 request for him to swallow it.
At some point during this day, I noticed that Randy's left eye didn't seem to have the muscle strength anymore. It made us wonder if he went blind in that eye. We aren't sure. I asked the hospice nurse about it and she said it was possible that he had gone blind in that specific eye but we can't be sure of it. He could definitely see from his right.
That night, 2 of my brothers stopped by with their kids so that they could see Randy and be there for me. I appreciated the company. Everyone left by 10:30ish.
This is Randy and my niece before they left that evening.
We had such a wonderful hospice nurse. After everyone left, she told me that I could sleep with him in the bed if I wanted but I did fear that I could hurt him if I were to accidentally bump him. It was around 1:30AM when I asked him if he wanted me to lay on the couch or in the bed with him. He looked at me but didn't answer. I decided to make it simpler and asked, "Do you want me to lay on the couch?" and he nodded. I knew that he probably had the same concern about him being accidentally bumped. I understood. When I laid on the couch, not 5 minutes later, Randy asked the hospice nurse, "Where's my wife?" and she said, "She's on the couch." I got right back up and went to his side. "I'm right here. I love you" I say to him. "I love you too." he says. I kissed him goodnight.
By the way, I am the person that hates PDA but I had to put it behind me if I was going to have any kiss from him in these last days. I needed those kisses. I caressed his face and kissed his forehead before going back to the couch since his medicine was kicking in.
This was Randy at 1:30AM. In prayer posture before falling asleep. This is the final photo of Randy alive.
Around 3:30AM, I heard a noise and I opened my eyes. I went over to his side because I saw the nurse had medicine for him to take. I stood beside him, ready to tell him to swallow when he lets out a gasp. This gasp reminded me of my grandmother in her final moments. I looked at the hospice nurse horrified. When Randy let out a second gasp, I cradled his head onto my chest a repeated, "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." Hot tears were streaming down my face. Randy let out one final gasp. His beautiful life slipped out of my hands at 3:33AM.
My first call was to my mom. Calling her at 3:33AM only meant one thing and my parents came right over. I went up and knocked on our roommate's door. I was shaking, crying and hyperventilating. "He's gone. He's gone. He's gone." I repeat as she grabs me and holds me.
The next call made was to his brother who didn't answer... Multiple times. Never answered.
The hospice nurse knew that I did not get along with his mother. I was trying to gather myself to make a call to his mother. Regardless of my feelings towards her, she had a right to know that her son was no longer with us. The nurse so generously offered to make that call. She later told me that it was classy of me to make that call because she would not have if she were in my shoes.
She gave Randy a bath while my parents were trying to comfort me. My parents left for a brief period of time to have breakfast and to change. In that time, the hospice nurse gave me time alone with my husband to say goodbye. I climbed into the bed and held him. His body was getting colder and colder. I told him I loved him so many times.
I then gave our roommate time with him to say goodbye. I don't even know what I did in that time. I haven't a clue. Pieces of that morning are a blur.
Family and friends began coming over and at 9AM, the funeral home came over to take him. I had to go to the funeral home at 2 to arrange his funeral.
These final days are tattooed in my head for all of eternity. They are as vivid as if they happened today. I don't think I could ever forget any of this. I can't forget the awful things said or done. I can't forget the visual of my husband in pain. I can't forget his life slipping away. It is forever with me. For better or worse, it is always with me.
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