Well, we are in day three of no food and no fluids. No verbal responses, no talking or trying to communicate in any way other than moaning at times. Color is very dusky. Bedbound. Yesterday after a lot of agitation and obvious discomfort, which the nurse witnessed and finally got serious about, we started giving DH a little liquid morphine with a syringe…just dropping it into the back corner of his mouth by pulling his cheek out a little. Then at 3:30 this morning he stopped breathing (the sound of him not breathing--or lack of sound--I can't explain it--just woke me up out of a sound sleep)--and he has been stopping breathing but then starting again ever since then. Needless to say, I am barely leaving his side. Have not showered and am just dressed in nightshirt over leggings and hoody…but I did brush my teeth. We've had the nurse, the Hospice chaplain, and our parish priest just came and gave him last rites. I will take a shower when the aide comes for her hour this afternoon. We have put the oxygen on him and he actually is leaving it on…that's a bad sign right there. Oxygen saturation is running around 77% at best, pulse and blood pressure were still OK this morning. Extremities are still warm and not mottled, although dusky as I said. I keep crying, but am trying not to become totally unglued. Would like to drink a glass of wine, but since I'm the only one here with him am not sure I should do that--have to be on my toes. Pray for us.
I am so very sorry Elizabeth. You've had a very difficult journey lately and now this. Perhaps I shouldn't say this but if you can handle a glass of wine, why not? It may help soothe your nerves.
Praying for you both for a peaceful end. Having just done this 5 weeks ago ( it seems like yesterday ) it brings tears to my eyes. You will get through this.
So sorry, Elizabeth. I've been following your posts. You've been through an unbelievably hard time and you must be so exhausted and sleep deprived. Praying for enough strength for you to get through this.
Maybe LFL has something about the wine!! Make sure you are drinking lots of fluids like water and juices. Dehydration can come on quick when you are going through this stressful time. Prayers and hugs
I'll add my prayers to others' and hope that you find some peace now and in the weeks ahead. You are an amazing caregiver. Your love for your husband shines through every post you've written. Arms around.
His progression so mirrors how my sister-in-law recently ended her journey and was set free.
May his passing be peaceful and may you have peace in all this. I agree with Amber - you have done a magnificent job going above and beyond what many caregivers would do.
Thank you everyone. It means more than you know. DH is still with us--now completely in a coma with no restlessness, no moaning--breathing gets very irregular at times, but extremities are still warm to the touch with no discoloration. He does not even stiffen up resistively when we turn him, or try to bite the toothette when I do oral care. I pretty much just sit right next to him on a chair beside his bed and read paperbacks. His breathing is loud, so I can go into other rooms and still hear him, but I feel more comfortable being very close. He is so thin, dehydrated, emaciated looking--I don't know how long he can possibly go on without any fluid intake. His face has just fallen away--eyes closed and very sunken--but he looks peaceful--he is just sleeping his life away. This morning as it gradually went from darkness to daylight I just held him and hugged him and kissed him--so glad I was given at least one more morning to do that. Birds singing outside…I wonder if it will be today. Tears now…I must get back to him.
elizabeth, I m keeping you both in my thoughts and prayers. I too am glad he seems to be at peace, I think that's all we care really ask for when it reaches this stage. ((((HUGS))))
Dear Elizabeth. thanks for keeping us posted. I was thinking of you all day yesterday. I pray that he is able to just quietly slip away. Lots of (((Hugs)))
Dear Elizabeth, I've been out of town for a few days and am just now catching up with news from the site. My heart is with you in this last part of the journey, and I add my prayers for you both to those of your friends here at Joan's.
I have also been thinking of you, Elizabeth, and hope that he passes easily, with you there beside him. Wishing you the strength needed to see you both through. You do have the strength - you always did throughout his illness.
I too have been thinking of you so much Elizabeth. Your description paints such a vivid picture in my mind - beautiful in its own way. The two of you together in the last stage of your husband's physical body.
Elizabeth, I haven't been on here, and was sorry to read that your husband has declined so quickly. I am glad that you are there with him, and I'm sure he feels your loving presence. I will pray for you both.
Today DH died very peacefully in my arms at around 3 pm. He had started breathing rapidly at around 10:30 am, and the Hospice nurse just coincidentally called around 11 am to come over for a visit. I mentioned the more rapid respirations, and when the nurse got there he suggested that I give the morphine more often, as while DH seemed comfortable, he thought the morphine would slow the rapid breathing and just be more relaxing for DH. So I started giving a little morphine every hour with the oral syringe. DH was also very, very warm to the touch, and the nurse said that he did have a fever, and also that his B/P was starting to drop. At noon the Hospice aide came in, and I ate a sandwich on the porch while she washed and shaved DH. She left him looking neat, clean, and comfortable at 1 pm. I got my paperback and sat down next to him, as I've been doing for several days. It was a gray and gloomy afternoon, and in the somewhat dim bedroom, it seemed to me that I could sense shadowy shapes of people around DH's bed. I think now that they must have been his family coming to meet him…but anyway…it started to rain quite hard around 2:40 or 2:45, and I made a circuit of the house just before 3 to make sure certain windows were closed--just checking things--when there was all of a sudden a really blinding, torrential downpour. I went quickly back to our bedroom, as I was afraid this intense rain might be blowing in the window and getting his bed wet. As I went through the doorway toward his bed, I just knew. His breathing was different, his face was relaxing into a more peacefully sleeping look--it's hard to describe, but there wasn't a question in my mind that he was leaving. I sat down beside him and watched his breaths, which were easy and unlabored, but kind of tapering off. I slipped one arm behind his shoulders and hugged across him with the other arm, being careful not to interfere with his respirations. I gave him a kiss or two, and said "It's OK, it's OK." I was kind of half on the chair and half on the bed, holding him in my arms, and I reached to check his pulse. He did have a pulse, but it was very irregular, to the point of getting just crazy erratic. His respirations--maybe two or three more--became so very shallow and weak that I don't think he was even taking in any air--and the pulse just stopped, too. I just sat there with him with my arms around him, and felt such a sense of peace coming from him…his face was so relaxed, his eyes closed--he looked ten years younger. I waited about five minutes to be sure he wasn't going to start breathing again before I got up just for a second to grab my phone and call his one surviving sibling. I kept holding him in my arms as I talked to her, and then the next call was Hospice. I had quite a bit of time alone with him through the afternoon until 5:30, as Hospice was a little slow to arrive, and then the undertakers took quite a while to get there. But it was fine. I just sat beside him and kept one hand on his arm--needless to say, his skin was no longer hot to the touch. I believe that that sudden intense burst of downpour was when his soul actually left us, and I think maybe it was his way of saying something. I will miss him horribly--I miss him already--but if any of you had been able to see him I think you would agree with me that he was at peace--he just slipped away as smooth as silk--and I have no doubt that even before the sun came out just after he died, that he was already up in heaven having that first Manhattan with his brothers, and probably just so happy to be with all those family members he missed so much. For all those times he used to sundown and say, "I want to go home. I want to go home." Well, now he's home, and it is just so bittersweet right now. I am just alone here in the house tonight, by my own choice, just thinking about him and loving him so much. His first night in heaven, God bless him.
Elizabeth, thank you for sharing this intimate time with us. We can all just pray that our own loved ones can slip away that peacefully. It gives me hope that the end won't be so terrible as I fear! It is also such awesome news that he was prepared for his eternal home in the presence of our loving Lord! Arms around you!!!
Elizabeth, You were a loving, angelic caregiver. You have handled all that came your way with grace. Thank you for sharing the ending of your journey. Arms around you during the upcoming time of dealing with all of the emotions you will have. We will be here for you. God Bless you.
Elizabeth, I'm so glad you husband's passing was so gentle and peaceful. It was really a beautiful gift for him and for you. Please take care of yourself in the days ahead and thank you for sharing your experiences over the last few weeks and days.
Eizabeth,Thank you for sharing this with us. I can only hope my DH's passing will be so peaceful.Please rest and take time to heal from all your caregiving
Thank you for sharing. I'm sending prayers to you along with wishes for peace and comfort.
I spent the last evening, night and early morning with my husband at the ALF before returning home briefly. On my way back there I saw a raven that landed on a post very close to where my car was stopped at a red light. I was not at all surprised when I reached the ALF and the Hospice nurse and counselor told me he had died minutes before.
Like your beloved husband, my husband had a look of peace on his face that I had not seen in years.
Blessings to you, your husband, and your loved ones.
Elizabeth, what a beautiful ending to a long hard struggle. May God grant you Peace and Rest. Thank you much for sharing this with us. Arms around you.
Elizabeth, like some of the others, I had tears running down my face as I read the moving experience of your DH's passing. Thank you for sharing this. May you also have a peace like you saw on his face when he was passing from this life to the next.