" Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal" - Richard Puz. It is strange how many things we take for granted. We make plans for the day and don't think twice about how everything can be gone in a blink of an eye. I never thought about it much myself, until I was faced with the shock of my father's death. The days that lead up to my father died, was the most stressful, heartbreaking days ever. But those don't compare to the day he died. It devastating, earth-shattering day of my life; nothing could have ever prepared me for it. To think it all started with one phone call.
March 26th, started off like a normal day; I didn't know that it was going to be the first day, that would lead up to the worse moment
…show more content…
None of them worked. Then April 13th, we had a meeting with 6 of his doctors and a social worker. They explain everything he had gone through, and that was wrong with him. They told us that he was only getting worse. Some of his organs were shutting down. H was fighting against them instead of with them. He had a slim to none chance of making it out of the hospital alive. Even if he managed to make it through he would be on a ventilator for the rest of his life. He wouldn't have been able to do any of the things he loved: like playing music, singing, fishing, or work on cars. So we had to decide what the next step was. We had three choices. One we could take no drastic measures; meaning if his heart stopped they would revive him, or if he fought against the dialysis machine they would stop that. Second, the doctors could focus only on trying to get him through it. Which meant a lot more surgeries, and he would be in a lot of pain. Plus there wasn't a good chance of him surviving it. Lastly, the third option was to take him off everything and focus only on making him comfortable. We sat and talked about what to do for an hour. I had to call my grandpa and tell him what they said; so he could drive from North Carolina to Jacksonville. We decided to go with the first option until my grandpa came and then we were going to take him off everything and make him …show more content…
They let anyone who wanted to come to see him and say goodbye in his room. They told us to give them an hour so they could unhook most of the machines. It was the longest hour ever. I wanted those 60 minutes to hurry up and go by so I could go back in the room with him. I kept hoping he was going to surprise everyone and start breathing on his own and make it through without being on any machines. That he would be sitting up when I walked in and tell me everything was going to be okay; he wasn't going anywhere. We sat in the waiting room; my grandma, grandpa, stepmom, stepsister, aunt, and cousin we all talking and I sat by the phone waiting for them to tell us to come back. When the nurse finally called I wanted to run to the room, I felt like something was telling me to hurry. I told everyone that we could go to the room; then I walked as fast as I could to his room. I was the first person to walk in. As soon as I walked through the door and seen him, it felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces. His eyes were open, but they were glossy, his skin was a yellowish white color, he wasn't breathing, and his skin was already starting to get cold. I knew my father had died before I could tell him
He stayed at the hospital until close to ten o’clock PM before returning home to his wife and eight-year-old daughter, Jessie.
Father, computer server engineer, alcoholic, and felon. My dad, Jason Wayne DeHate, has influenced my life, not only genetically, but he has also improved my character and creativity throughout the years. Beginning at age two, I was cultured with profanity spit from rappers such as Eminem. While my mother was at work we had multiple videotaped “jam sessions” and coloring time that allowed for the foundation of friendship we have today. The jam sessions consisting of me mumbling and stumbling in front of the television, as he was “raising the roof” from his lazyboy. Since then, he has taught me how to rollerblade, change wiper blades, and play my favorite sport, tennis. Along with influencing my leisure activities and the music I enjoy, his prominent personality allows me to grow as a person. Being the only male figure in my immediate family, I
After a slow week, when we were visiting Johnny and he seemed to be doing better, he told us that he was getting interviewed and put in the paper of his story. Of course the hospital said that they didn’t want how he came back to life coming out, since that wouldn’t do them any good in business.
Growing up, my father’s absence played a major factor in my stride for success. His absence was the scapegoat for why I always felt like I may not be good enough – or why I’d be looked at as an outcast. I’ve always made it my first priority to overcome his negligence by attempting to do my best in school – earning good grades, joining school clubs, giving back to the community. However, never did I receive the recognition I’ve always dreamed of and never was I satisfied with my outcome, but never did I think that I would find through the one who seized it all.
His wife and him were requesting that he be discharged back to their family home and that his wife will be his sole caretaker. Tracey and the social worker were hesitant due to his history and current status between oxygen management and being
They found out that he had a cerebral hemorrhage, which means he had bleeding in his brain. David Sheff shares that while in the ICU, he thought “Where is Nic? Where is Nic? Where is Nic? Where is Nic? I must call Nic” (Sheff 239). He began having delusions from the medication that he was talking to his son while trying to remember his number (Sheff 241). Instead of worrying about if he would live, and if he’d ever be able to remember his name or where he was at, Sheff just worried about Nic.
is revived, he should be watched for more than an hour as his temperature can start to rise to high levels again.
More towards the end of his life he visited the vet a few times a week and they were watching him get worse with every visit. They suggested that we do put him down because he was only getting worse even with all the medication he was on. Starting about two days before we put him down he had the time of his life and was able to do everything a normal dog couldn’t do due to it would have negative long-term effects for dogs. We took him out for ice cream, he got cotton candy and chocolate flavored. He got to try all different types of candy and fast food; boy was he a happy dog while eating all that.
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
After hours of waiting we finally received the go that he was back in his room and we would be able to see him in just a moment. I remember him being very groggy from the anesthesia, he had a big red heart shaped pillow that was protecting his chest but he still had that big smile on his face when we walked through the door. He had a million tubes coming out of every orifice, tape hanging on by threads and some sort of yellow paint all of his skin. I had a million and one questions that I needed
My father's eyes opened, and he called out for my sister Kelly and I to come to him. In a very serious and sad voice, he told us that he was very sick, and he was going to the Fort Wayne hospital. My mother told Kelly and I to help her pack some things for him, because he was going to be leaving soon. We helped her pack, keeping quiet because we did not want to interrupt the silence that had taken over the room.
I showed up at the hospital about thirty minutes later. I was so scared and did not know what to expect. I did not know if my father was dead, ...
The moment we stepped foot into the hospital, I could hear my aunt telling my mother that “he is in a better place now”. At that moment, something had already told me that my dad was deceased; it was like I could feel it or something. I felt the chills that all of a sudden came on my arms. As my mother and grandmother were both holding my hand, they took me into this small room. The walls were white, and it had a table with four tissue boxes sitting on the top. My other grandmother was there, and so were my two aunts, my uncles, and
The hospital administrator and cardiologist that delivered the results of what they found wrong, were heartless. All John Q could say,” But I have insurance.” The hospital administrator told him that the benefits he had been paying for were not enough and did not cover the whole procedure. The administrator told them that in order to place them on the transplant waitlist, he would have to pay 30% of $250,000, that is $75,000.
It was a Sunday morning. We got the call from the convalescent home. I went up with my mother and brother. As I walked in, I remember seeing him in the bed. He just looked so peaceful; it was the best thing that could have happened. Even so, death is terrible no matter what the condition of the person. No one is prepared to accept death no matter what, where or how it happens.