My dad was a healthy and vibrant man until he suddenly fell ill with encephalitis in November 1998. He had two grand mal seizures which blew out the pupil in
his left eye, leaving him blind in that eye and with only 40% vision in his right. He spent a week in a coma, and then he had a stroke in his spinal cord that
left him paralyzed from the chest down. He spent six weeks in the hospital, then six weeks at Craig (a famous rehab facility which happens to be in town).
He was on all sorts of medication for his headaches, for his pain in general (he wore two of the maximum-strength fentanyl patches AND was taking morphine, and
it STILL wasn't enough), for nausea. Because of the nausea he could hardly keep any food down, and after one of his many health crises through the years
he had a feeding tube put into his stomach. Also because of that he rarely went around in his wheelchair, and so partly as a result of being in bed so much a
bone bridge formed between his hip and femur, so he couldn't sit up, so even if we did put him in the wheelchair it'd have to be reclined all the way
back. He eventually got a stent put in his head to relieve the water on the brain that was causing his headaches, but they never really went away.
He was frustrated at his situation, of course. He actually threw himself out of bed a couple times, breaking his leg one of those times. He didn't want
to live, and with every health crisis I'd be told he was going to die, only to have him pull through by some miracle (or sheer willpower of WANTING to
live). He made it through a lot of stuff that he shouldn't have.
In September 2005 he had his latest health crisis, after having been relatively healthy for about a year and a half. Turned out the meds he was taking were
wrecking his liver so he'd probably have to go off some of them. Docs also thought he might've had shingles but that turned out to be a false alarm.
He was released after a few days and we were told a doctor would be coming out to our house on the 23rd to draw some blood for some liver tests.
It never happened. He passed away on the morning of the 23rd. Something in him started to bleed, and he bled to death in his sleep from an upper GI bleed.
It happened just like he wanted it to. He was at home, he was asleep, and he had Mom by his side.
I knew he was going to die. We all knew it. But still, it happened so suddenly... Even if you know it's going to happen sometime, you're never truly
prepared when it does.
I am sorry, Bob.
--Amanda
"Hey, it's not like dying is on my schedule for this week."
--Yumeko Asagiri, Bubblegum Crisis: The Next Generation, part 3
his left eye, leaving him blind in that eye and with only 40% vision in his right. He spent a week in a coma, and then he had a stroke in his spinal cord that
left him paralyzed from the chest down. He spent six weeks in the hospital, then six weeks at Craig (a famous rehab facility which happens to be in town).
He was on all sorts of medication for his headaches, for his pain in general (he wore two of the maximum-strength fentanyl patches AND was taking morphine, and
it STILL wasn't enough), for nausea. Because of the nausea he could hardly keep any food down, and after one of his many health crises through the years
he had a feeding tube put into his stomach. Also because of that he rarely went around in his wheelchair, and so partly as a result of being in bed so much a
bone bridge formed between his hip and femur, so he couldn't sit up, so even if we did put him in the wheelchair it'd have to be reclined all the way
back. He eventually got a stent put in his head to relieve the water on the brain that was causing his headaches, but they never really went away.
He was frustrated at his situation, of course. He actually threw himself out of bed a couple times, breaking his leg one of those times. He didn't want
to live, and with every health crisis I'd be told he was going to die, only to have him pull through by some miracle (or sheer willpower of WANTING to
live). He made it through a lot of stuff that he shouldn't have.
In September 2005 he had his latest health crisis, after having been relatively healthy for about a year and a half. Turned out the meds he was taking were
wrecking his liver so he'd probably have to go off some of them. Docs also thought he might've had shingles but that turned out to be a false alarm.
He was released after a few days and we were told a doctor would be coming out to our house on the 23rd to draw some blood for some liver tests.
It never happened. He passed away on the morning of the 23rd. Something in him started to bleed, and he bled to death in his sleep from an upper GI bleed.
It happened just like he wanted it to. He was at home, he was asleep, and he had Mom by his side.
I knew he was going to die. We all knew it. But still, it happened so suddenly... Even if you know it's going to happen sometime, you're never truly
prepared when it does.
I am sorry, Bob.
--Amanda
"Hey, it's not like dying is on my schedule for this week."
--Yumeko Asagiri, Bubblegum Crisis: The Next Generation, part 3