Last days of Tony Resch
Dad
passed away at noon today Friday, February 22, 2002. It was an honorable, moral and ethical
death. It was as he wanted it, in
his home, without tubes, without pain and with
family.
The
decline of Dad over the last week was very quick. When I arrived last Saturday, he was
ambulatory with a walker. We got a
wheel chair on Monday along with a hospital bed and he moved into the bed that
night. By Wednesday, the wheel
chair was not useful and he was confined to the bed. He was very weak. It was hard for him to work with his
hands but he still had a good grip on Thursday. Because the prostate cancer had done
such a number on his red blood cells, he found comfort in extra oxygen, usually
at 3-4 liters per minute. The side
effect was nasal irritation and dryness in throat and
mouth.
He was
understanding and understandable right up until the end, engaging in
conversation and able to express his minor needs. He generally was without pain, and
suffered his discomforts well.
While he had little appetite, he almost always would take water, apple or
orange juice. Because he was
constantly in bed, was weak and sleep was a relief, day and night became
somewhat meaningless the last couple of days. The Hospice provided a wireless doorbell
setup that worked quite well for Dad to request help. The button part was easy for Dad to use
and the bell part fit in my pocket.
On Thursday night, he rang about every hour on the half hour with a
request to have position adjusted, get liquid, have a bowel movement or have my
presence. About 1:15 a.m., he ate a
little banana; some apricot jello and a liquid nutrition drink called
Ensure. His Ensure preference was
butter pecan.
On
Wednesday night, also about 1:15 a.m., after taking some water, he said he
thought he did not need the oxygen anymore. I agreed telling him it was not life
sustaining and it was the source of his throat and mouth dryness. I asked him if he wanted me to sit with
him and say a prayer and he said, “It wouldn’t hurt”. I told him he had lived a good life and
had been a good man and he told me good night and goodbye. I sat with him about 20 minutes, until
he was snoring and then I went to bed.
He was without extra oxygen until about 7:00 am and did not ask for help
the rest of the night. In the
morning, he said he didn’t notice much difference without the oxygen and asked
that it be reinstated. He took a
couple of sips of coffee.
On
Thursday morning, Janna, the aide that has been helping first Mom and now Dad,
came by to check on the folks, to give Mom a shower and Dad a sponge bath and
shave and to change bedclothes and to drill Mom on her exercises. Mark came over to visit about 1:30 pm
and I took Mom to visit her sister, Eleanor, and her brother-in-law, Howard at a
nursing home in nearby Cambridge.
Both were spryer than I had imagined. Howard was about to be graduated to a
group home as he was quite mobile assisted by a walker and a new hearing aide
had made it easier for him to communicate and he was, therefore, no longer in
need of the intensive support provided by the nursing home. Eleanor has lost most of her left side
function as a result of her stroke but her right side functions allowed her move
about in a wheel chair and to feed herself. While frustrated by a body that did not
serve the occupant’s needs, she and Mom actively shared gossip and
memories.
On
Friday morning, we received a telephone call from Father Zimmer, the retired
priest of my parent’s church, asking if he could come over to visit. I had suggested Dad would appreciate a
visit when the Deacon brought the Eucharist to the folks last Sunday. He came about 9:00 am,
talked with the folks and said some prayers with Dad. I called my cousin Donna who had said
earlier by email that she intended to visit late this week or early next week
and told her that I thought today was better. About 10:30 a.m. Dad’s breathing became
shallow, rapid and wheezy and he found the most comfort on his left side looking
out the picture window. About
11:00, I called Marilyn to say I thought it no longer a question of days or
weeks but of hours. I left messages
for Brad and Ali. By 11:30 Dads
breathing was slow, deep and unstressed.
It was difficult for him to get suction on a straw for water but he
appreciated and swallowed water squirted in by a squeeze bottle. At 11:45, I told Mom I thought the
end was near. They spoke, she
kissed him goodbye, said she loved him, that she was glad she married him. He said he was scared, blessed himself
three times. Mom said “it will be
alright”. She sat down, Dad
breathed a couple of last breaths and I called
Hospice.
Mom and
I had about an hour before the nurse arrived. Marilyn and then Donna followed. Ali called about 1:30 and arrived about
4:00. We got through to Brad and he
arrived about 9:30 p.m. from Duluth.
Rosy will fly in from Chicago at noon today (Saturday, February 23). The mortuary hearse took Dad away about
2:30. The Deacon came by to pray
with us and help make arrangements.
We started calling relatives and friends and
pallbearers.
We plan
right now to have visitation at the Rock Mankie Funeral Home (120 Broadway
Telephone 320 396 2121) from 4 to 8:00 pm on Sunday, February 23 and a vigil
service there at 7:00 pm. The
funeral mass will be 10:00 am on Monday, February 23 at the Saints Peter and
Paul Catholic Church, 1050 Southview Ave in Braham, MN Telephone 320 396
3105. Visitation from 9:00 a.m.
Burial will be in the adjacent cemetery.