The One With The Eventual Goodbye

My Dad called me this morning.

He informed me that my grandmother had made the decision to take my grandfather off all of his medications.

Since his fall and then subsequent hip surgery in November, my grandfather has had several ups and downs. There were tiny whispers of improvement, things that sparked hope that maybe, just maybe he would come out of everything all right. He left the hospital for a rehab/nursing home facility to work on getting his strength back and try to work up to where we would be able to come home. For my grandfather, being in a nursing is the kiss of death. The two weeks he had to spend in one after his stroke a few years ago were hell and he vowed he would never go back to one again. So I know he was devastated to have to return, even for a short period of time. However, he worked as hard as he could to try and make his time there brief.

Then the bleeds started. He was on watch when blood appeared in his stool, sent to the hospital when that became a steady amount all the time. They gave him a transfusion and he bounced back a bit. But it was not a cure-all and soon he would need another transfusion since he was losing too much blood. They couldn't find out what was wrong without more surgery and due to his age and condition there would again be no guarantees he would survive. They opted to not take him to the bigger hospital for exploratory surgery. Then first hard decision my grandmother had to make was to say no more hospital trips, no more transfusions.

They moved my grandfather to a private room, made him comfortable, and the wait began. He soon lost interest in eating. That, combined with his constant blood loss, caused more wear on an already very tired body. They began to curb his lack of food intake with vitamins and supplements, as well as various pain meds and any other previous medications he was on for his aneurysm, blood condition, etc (there are so many things, I can't keep track) Last week I called him and he was alert enough to talk for a while but tired easily and quickly needed to rest.

I believe that is going to be the last time I will have ever spoken to my grandfather.

According to my Dad, he has stopped responding to any one. He doesn't talk any more. He doesn't move much. He has whithered away to around 110 pounds which on his tall frame is what I can imagine is skeletal. He has been moved to the hospice care section of the nursing home, close to the nursing station and has a specialized doctor there to make sure he is comfortable and out of pain. Plans have been made and set in place for weeks as we wait for what we all know is going to come.

The decision my grandmother made that will be put into effect tomorrow is to take him off all the supplements and medications, with the exception of the pain meds. They are not helping him, not making his quality of life any better. And while I don't want to lose my beloved grandfather, I am glad this decision was made. My grandmother even told me today she should have made it sooner than now. She just didn't now how to. But it's time. My grandfather, a proud and wonderful man, is wasting away and he deserves to go with dignity, deserves to let God take him into his arms and finally ease all the pain and suffering he has endured for so long. He wouldn't want to be like this, and since he can no longer tell us that, it is up to us to make the hard decisions and finally let him go.

But knowing that doesn't make the eventual goodbye any easier to bear.

My heart is breaking. I love him so. I don't want him to leave. I think about all the times I spent with him, the love and support he gave me, how close we became when I went to college and was only an hour away from them for seven years. Mostly, I am devastated that he will not be around to see a child of my own. That our future generation will not be able to share in his love and his amazing personality. I know I will do everything I can to make sure our children know how brave and wonderful my grandfather was. A young man who married his teenage sweetheart, went off to fight in World War II and came home to build a family, traveled all over this country and helped shape my life into what it is today.

I wait for that phone call that I know is going to come. I wait and wonder what I will feel in that moment when I lose another loved one.