We came home. Home health began again ... including physical therapy, occupational therapy, and wound care - for his hands.
He was doing really good. 2 weeks ago (on a Monday) we went in for check ups. Every doctor, every lab report, every test - all showed improvement. He was in good spirits. He was feeling better. Tired - but better.
2 weeks ago (on Tuesday) he woke up with tummy troubles. Not really diarrhea, just a cramping and aching in his belly. On Wednesday he got up and threw up 4 times that day. We thought it was nothing more than a tummy bug. No fever. Nothing more than just an upset stomach for about 24 hours.
Thursday he was feeling better. But just was not hungry. Course that was completely normal for him - he never wanted to eat much after throwing up. I got him to eat some chicken noodle soup and crackers that day.
Friday, he was feeling weak and tired. I talked to the dialysis nurse - she said it was probably due to the couple of days of tummy troubles.
By Saturday morning, his blood pressure was getting low, but his blood sugar was high. Again, I talked with his dialysis nurse. She said that the body would release a flood of sugar to counteract not eating.
So, he began to try and eat - but nothing tasted right, and nothing seemed to sit right on his tummy.
Saturday, Sunday and Monday - we worked with his blood pressure and blood sugar. Home health nurse checked him out. I talked with the dialysis nurse. No one thought it was an emergency that he be seen. But we were all concerned - didn't want him to get dehydrated.
Monday was not a good day. He got very upset during the day. We argued. We talked. I cried. He cried. We both calmed down and quieted. Spent the rest of the day just being together.
Tuesday last week, he got up in good spirits. Told me that he wanted to live and not die. Said that his main goal was to get in better health so that he could go back to church, and find some way to serve the Lord.
He worked on his breathing exercises, his physical therapy, his occupational therapy. He ate good. He drank good.
I thought - whew! We have turned a corner!!!
Wednesday last week - he didn't feel good again when he woke up. I got some warm water and I bathed him before he got dressed for the day. We talked. We laughed. We loved on each other. It was a good time together.
When he got dressed, he was tired and weak. But that, too, was normal - especially since I had just bathed him. We got him to the living room, he took his morning meds, he drank a protein shake. We were going to watch a movie together. But he needed to go to the bathroom.
Got him back to the bedroom/bathroom. He almost fell 2 or 3 times. After the bathroom, he said he didn't feel like going to the living room. I said that was fine. Just rest in the bed for a while.
I got pillows, got him in the bed, not really laying, not really sitting. Called the nurse. She said it sounded like dehydration - so get him to drink something about every 15 minutes. He was very cooperative. He ate a little, and he drank. He was not swollen. No fever. He was clear minded, his eyes were clear and bright. His color was good.
We spent the day together - talking, laughing. He cried a couple of times, I wiped his tears away - he was missing some of those who had gone on to glory.
He had the option of going to the doctor, but he decided not to. The doctor said that he should be fine here at home. Rick agreed, said he would do everything the doctor said do - and if he wasn't feeling better by the next morning, we would go back to Paris.
He had a good night last Wednesday night. I sat on the bed beside him, he loved on me, I loved on him. We talked. He told me that he loved me, I told him I loved him. Then I said - Do you know how fine you are to me, Ricky Lee McCoy? He said he did, and that he wanted me to know how fine he was to me, too. (from the movie Rob Roy)
This was ALL ordinary for us. So far, nothing mentally or emotionally was out of the ordinary. And we all thought that the worst was the beginnings of dehydration - which could and would be alleviated in just a few more hours with him drinking the fluids.
He slept good, was not restless. He woke up a couple of times and got a drink of water.
Thursday morning, I was sitting in a chair beside my side of the bed. Waiting for the cycler to get to the dwelling point - then I was going to take a shower while he slept.
Ten minutes till 7 a.m. -- he woke up, stretched out first one leg, and then the other. I asked him what was wrong. He said that his legs were "cramping like crazy". I got up, walked around the bed to his side, and was going to rub his legs. But first, I looked into his eyes. Clear, filled with love and with peace. I asked him if he wanted anything. He couldn't talk. I looked over to his water (thinking that maybe he needed a drink for the dry mouth). Looked back at him - his eyes had glazed over, his eyes looked like a china doll's eyes ... there but nothing inside. I touched his face, I patted his cheeks, I patted his chest, I raised his shoulders and shook him. No response. I called for our daughter. She tried to get Daddy to respond. Nothing.
I called 911 - she began CPR. We waited for the ambulance. EMT's began CPR, they bagged him, they intubated him. They worked for almost an hour.
The EMT told me that they could take him to the hospital. I asked if he would be better.
I was told that for an hour, after 3 shocks to the heart, after everything - there was NO response. No heart beat. No pulse. No eye response. NOTHING.
My husband of 34+ years was gone. I am no longer married. I am a widow.