I don't want to forget

I want to write this so that I will remember every detail about my Dad's last day and his funeral.

As I said in an earlier blog, Donny got to the Hospice House on Fri., 2/22/08, about 3 AM. I had been asleep since 10:30 the night before in Dad's room on the chair that pulls out into a bed. I got up when Donny got there and we drank coffee, I updated my blog, and just kind of hung out for a while there at the Hospice House. We prayed, Donny played music in the chapel and sang for me while we cried. He told me that some people feel they have a special number, and his is 222 (today's date). He felt like Dad would go today.

I arranged for Alison (my daughter) to come and sit with Dad at 10:15 a.m. so that Donny and I could go to the funeral home and florist and make the final arrangements. Chuck would take Mom to dialysis and relieve Alison at 12:30. Donny and I did our errands and went to eat a sandwich about 2. We left the restaurant around 3 - he went back to Hospice and I went to pick Mom up from dialysis and take her home. I took her a hot dog from where we ate lunch, which she ate on the way home, and she just planned to rest after she got home. As soon as I left her house, in fact I had just stepped out onto the back porch, my cell phone rang and it was Donny saying that Dad was getting much worse and I needed to get back to Hospice quick. So I called Alison to get her to go with me. She was at work, I stopped and picked her up. Todd came up right after we got there, then Ed came up. He was torn up when he saw Dad. I think he was crying for his own Dad, who died up there on Christmas Day. He left about 6 PM, and Alison and Todd left too at the same time, so it was Donny, Chuck and me there with Dad. We prayed and sang and played gospel music on the CD, all the while Dad was getting worse. I need to say at this time that I felt that Dad's spirit had already left. It seemed like it was not really Dad laying there breathing that rattly breath and with his eyes rolled back in his head. His feet and hands had started to get cool. The nurses were saying it would probably not be long now. We were on pins and needles and finally at about 7:15, my brothers said it seemed like he was getting even worse. I ran to the Nurse's Station and asked the nurse that had just come on duty, Heather, to come and check my Dad. She came right away and tried to get a pulse on his wrist and couldn't get one. Then she felt his carotid artery and took his pulse there and also took his temperature in his ear. She said his pulse was 120 and his temp was 102. Did we want to talk there or out in the hall? We said let's go out in the hall. She told us she didn't think it would be much longer because his heart couldn't take much more of that. Donny asked if she thought he was in pain. She said that she could probably stand him on his head at this point and he wouldn't know it - he doesn't know he's in the world. But she would give him pain med if it would make us feel better. At this point, she peeked around the corner of the door and we all walked back in the room. He had stopped breathing. We all stood stone still. He took a breath, then stopped for a couple of seconds, took another breath, and stopped completely. He was gone. I cannot say how horrible it was to go through this, but I would do it all in a minute for my Dad. I could not bear the thought of his dying by himself, and I was so glad my brothers and I were there for him.

Of course, we all three cried and told him goodbye and then gathered up our belongings and went to tell Mom that he had passed. She knew as soon as we walked through the door together. I said, "Mom, he's gone." And we all cried together.

The next few days are a blur. Most of the arrangements had been made, thankfully. I had even written the obituary, leaving out the date and place of death. Family came in over the weekend - my brother Donny's family, then Chuck's kids from out of town, then Pam and Timmy on Monday. The visitation was at the Leonard Johnson Funeral Home in Marmet on Monday evening. We all went together. Dad looked so good. He didn't look sick like he had been at the Hospice House and hospital. It was great to see so many long-lost cousins and family members. The casket and flowers were just beautiful. There were so many flowers, I think about 35 people had sent them. The funeral service was on Tuesday at 2 PM. Donny had left all the details of the service up to me. It was good to be busy with getting everything organized - the music, the tone of the message, etc. The minister for my church did the service, it was absolutely perfect. The songs were: Wind Beneath My Wings at the beginning, then a song called "From His Window" about a Dad with Alzheimer's in a nursing home, then Alison sang "Let It Be Me" (Dad sang this for her and Adam at their wedding), accompanied by Ron Sowell on guitar, then "I Believe", a song Donny wrote performed by Diamond Reo, and finally as the visitors went by the casket one last time "Go Rest High on that Mountain" by Vince Gill. We went to the cemetery for the burial rites, then Chuck's church had a dinner for us in their activity room. A bunch of us went to Mom's after we got back and it was so good just to be together, remembering Dad and his life.

It's finally over

Dear Family,
Our beloved father, Ernest Paul "Pete" Kees passed this evening at 7:30 p.m. Donny, Chuck and I were honored to be with him. He fought long and valiantly but could not cheat death. Dad lived large and loved life, and we will always love and miss him unbearably. But we also realize that he is in a better place, and we were praying for his suffering to end. We all went together to tell Mom. She will grieve and miss him more than anyone else, but I feel that she will persevere. Mom is so much stronger than even she knows, and with God's help, she'll get through this. She didn't want Dad to suffer any more either. Thanks to each and every one of you for keeping our family in your prayers. My heart aches for my Uncle Mike who is away on a mission and won't be here to be with us. I know you're hurting too, Uncle Mike, but we're all where we're supposed to be.

Visitation will be Monday evening from 6 to 8 at Leonard Johnson Funeral Home in Marmet. The funeral will be Tuesday at 2 PM at the funeral home. The obituary should be in Sunday's paper.

I'm going to bed now. I'm tired.

Love to all,
Peggy

A Strong Will

We got to Hubbard Hospice House on Tuesday evening (it's now Friday morning around 4:45 AM). What a serene place! Dad was basically in a coma till Wednesday. He's been opening his eyes, looking at us and kind of holding our hand, sometimes pretty strongly, on and off since then. Mom had dialysis Tues. and Wed., but made it up here on Thursday. It's very hard on her, that almost seems like an understatement . . . I don't know what other words to use. But she's a trooper. She goes through periods of inconsolable crying and then does OK for a while. Pam was here from Thursday of last week and left on Wednesday morning. Donny got here Tuesday, so now he, Chuck and I are staying with Dad all we can. We all went home yesterday around 5 because the roads were getting bad. I ate dinner, took a shower, and came back over about 8 PM. I intended to spend the night at home, but my heart was here with Dad so I figured I might as well get the rest of myself over here too. I slept several hours in the room, and Donny got here about 3:30 AM. This place is wonderful. Everyone here is going through the same thing. The nurses are so understanding and helpful. They know when to stay back and when to step in. They're keeping Dad comfortable, and that's what we want, of course. But Dad is dying the way that he lived - with a strong will. Donny says that it's his competitive nature. He always wanted to win at everything he did. Those of you that played cards, golf or Monopoly or shot pool with him can attest to that!

This time together with family has given us a chance to reminisce about our life with him. What a great guy! We've had such an honor to have him as our Dad. Any success that any one of the five of us have achieved can be credited in a large part to his impact on our lives. He didn't break any records, publish any books, make millions of dollars, or any of that kind of material stuff. But he sure made a difference in the lives of a handful of people in a little corner of West Virginia, and when he goes he will leave behind a legacy of love that will never be forgotten.

I'll try to write more later.

Love to all,
Peggy

My Beautiful Daddy

Things are progressing so much faster than I had anticipated, and I don't mean that in a good way, sorry to say. Yesterday, I went to the hospital before church and the doctor was there. I had to stick around to see him, but he finally came into Dad's room. He told me that they were planning to do a swallowing test to see if Dad could swallow before they would try to feed him anything. If he couldn't swallow, the recommendation would be a feeding tube, to which I said "No." I had already talked to several people who had been through this with parents with AD, and the consensus was to not do a feeding tube. I also discussed this with each of my siblings and my Mom, and we all were in agreement. The doctor told me that Thomas Hospital had an excellent palliative care nurse, and he would have her contact me to discuss our options.

Went to the hospital first thing this morning and happened to round the corner to his room just as the doctor was coming out. He told me that the prognosis is not good, which we already knew. He told me if he had to predict, he would say that Dad has one or maybe two weeks, but he could be taken this afternoon, there's just no way of knowing. At any rate, when the speech therapist came in to do the swallowing evaluation, Dad was not alert enough to do it. I went to work for a couple of hours and got a call from the palliative care nurse. We went over the options - back to nursing home with hospice care or to the local Hospice House, which I know to be a wonderful place since my father-in-law passed there on Christmas Day. So the hospice nurse came in and assessed Dad's condition and said that he met all the criteria and could be transferred to Hubbard Hospice House as early as tomorrow (Tuesday). Everyone who saw my Dad today commented on how good-looking he is. They all said what beautiful skin and hair he has. No one could believe he is 88 years old. What they don't know is that he is just as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. Those of us in the family know this to be true, don't we?

I love you all and will keep you posted as I can. Please remember Mom, Donny, Chuck, me, Timmy and Pam and our spouses and children in your prayers over the next few days.

Dad's in the Hospital

Dad was taken to Thomas Hospital in South Charleston last night. He was admitted after x-rays showed that he had pneumonia. I went to the hospital first thing this morning and the nurse said it was "aspirated pneumonia", which means that he aspirated (or I guess inhaled) either liquid or food into his lungs. He was running a fever, which they are giving him suppositories for. He has had diarrhea, as has the entire population of the nursing home, I guess, for the last couple of days, so that is continuing. They have him catheterized and on an IV, but he was still trying to raise up out of bed today. Talk about a strong-willed man! He's amazing! So don't give up on him yet, because I'm not. He's still putting out urine, his vital signs are stable as far as I know. My sister Pam got here Thursday and is staying till Wed. Donny just went home this past Wed. after staying with Mom for four days. Tim was here last weekend with his family, and he's driven back down today with Pam's husband Pete. So Mom and I have had some support. Of course, I don't want to leave out my brother Chuck, who has been a rock throughout this whole thing.

I'll try to write more tomorrow. Maybe I'll have better news. Till then, all my love, or as Dad would say, "Love you with all my heart and gizzard."

A Pretty Good Visit

The last week or so has been rough! Since writing my last entry on Feb. 1, I've been to the Nursing Home every day. Mom and I went on Saturday and Sunday, and he didn't seem to know us. She cried all weekend and called the out-of-town kids telling them that they if they want to see their Dad, they'd better come soon. He's now having trouble swallowing, and they have him on a pureed diet with thickeners in his liquid so he doesn't get choked when he drinks. His confusion continues, he babbles and you can understand some words, while others are garbled. Anyway, Mom was heartbroken that her worst fears had come to pass, that he no longer remembered her. I tried to tell her that I felt that he did know her at some level, but maybe just couldn't voice it.

He seems to be doing better about sleeping at night. They've changed some of his meds, and I also told Mom that that may be why he seems more confused. They now have him on pain meds, in addition to Xanax, Risperdol, Aricept, and I don't know what else. I spoke with his doctor on Monday to ask whether the disease was progressing more rapidly or the increased confused might be medicine related. He agreed to lower the Risperdol to see if that might help.

I was off today so Mom wanted to go see him. He was sitting, as usual, in his wheelchair near the Nurses' Station. We took him back to his room. Mom began to cry, but we kept talking to him. She was patting his hands in his lap, and he raised her hand and began to kiss it, making little smacking noises, about 20 kisses at a time. Every time she lowered her hand, he would lift it to his lips and kiss it again. Then he looked at me and lifted his arms like he wanted a hug. I know deep down, my Dad's in there. How sad but hopeful, even while knowing what the outcome must be.

Mom wanted to stay with him while I went to my Weight Watcher's meeting, and she had me ask the nurses to put him in bed so she could just sit beside him. When I returned a while later, she was fine and her sister-in-law Peggy was there with her daughter Aleta. We left a short time later. I told her I thought maybe if she visited him and stayed a little longer she would not be so shocked every time she saw him, but maybe could adjust to his condition a little. She told me later that when the girls came in to put him in bed, he tried to kiss them too. What a lover boy!

Progression (Mine or His?)

Finally got to see Dad today . . . AWAKE! I've been to the Nursing Home probably 4 or 5 times in the last 10 days or so, and he's been asleep every time. Of course, probably if I went there at 2 or 3 AM, I might find him awake . . . and then, I may not. Sometimes they tell me he is up for 2 or 3 days straight and then crashes for a couple of days. I call every morning to see how he's doing. This morning and yesterday they told me he slept through the night. They called me about 1:30 this afternoon and said he had fallen out of his wheelchair but wasn't hurt. He still doesn't understand that he can't walk and he continually tries to stand up and then . . . WHOMP! falls right down. They sit him in his wheelchair right in front of the Nurses' Station to try to keep an eye on him but sometimes he gets up before they realize it, and that's when he falls. Anyway, I had a little time before picking Mom up from Dialysis so thought I'd take a chance on finding him awake, and he was. He is to the point now where he is having trouble holding up his head, so his head is continually drooping. If you want to talk to him, you have to stand in front of his wheelchair and stoop down to his eye level, which I did. I think he knew who I was, but he didn't say my name. For some reason, he said "Amanda" (we don't know any Amanda's that I know of). I pushed him up and down the hallways, he always seems to enjoy that, but sometimes he puts his feet down, like he's putting on the brakes, and I have to tell him to hold them up. He was talking the whole way, but in jibberish that I couldn't understand, but I'm sure it made sense to him. I scratched his back for a while, he loves that, and asked him if he was happy. He laughed (sort of) and said "Yes."

That's good enough for me.

Like I said, I considered it a "good visit."

My love to all.

Peggy

P.S. Mom cried when I told her about the visit. She said she felt like he was "melting". I guess that's a good way to put it. It's just sad.