Hell Continued

The next morning, we asked the doctor if giving her fluid was helping her or hindering her. He said it was keeping her alive, but for what? She would not recover.

Throughout this process, her blood pressure and heart rate were dangerously high as well. We were actually a little surprised that she had not suffered a massive stroke or heart attack.

That morning, the family decided it was time to take meds and fluids away from her and give her pain meds only. She had very little ability to respond and slept most of the time. She had developed apnea and snored loudly.

When the fluid was gone, we expected her to go quickly. That wasn't the case. She was a tough old bird. Healthy in most ways. Strong heart and in her right mind, had a strong will to live.

His sister, dad, niece and us all stayed vigil at the hospital, never leaving her alone. We made sure she stayed clean and the nurses treated her well. Some didn't. We held her hand and put wash cloths on her head as fever set in during the last days. We used chapped stick to keep her lips hydrated as her mouth dried out.

We were miserable. It was hard watching her slowly die. Everyone of us dealt with guilt and anguish. Everyone questioned if it was the right decision, even if briefly.

The last Wednesday, we got a call at 4 am telling us the time was near. When we got there, we heard the "death rattle" and we thought they were right. The minutes and hours ticked by. The death rattle is a mechanical sound that haunts you for a long time. It doesn't even sound like it is coming from her.

She did finally quiet down, but stayed strong. Over the next day, her breathing became more shallow, fever increased, BP and pulse both began to fall.

That Friday, we had made a plan to take some time away and go to KC. Kent had an interview and we wanted to look at houses. Also, we had to take some time here and there to catch our breath and get a break from the heaviness of it all.

Friday, a little before noon, his sister called to let us know she was gone.