I got to see my black momma and that made me cry, but also made me feel really good. I found that when I hug women I do not cry,  I comfort them. Let a man hug me and I cry like a bitch. Maybe I just need a man to feel vulnerable and break down, that would explain the gay thing as I hate to be vulnerable.  I met one of my dads old school buddies who told me that him and dad were chasing the same girl and she didn’t know who she wanted to be with. She died this week, her name was Christine.  I wish I knew more about my dad from those days, when he was my age and full of spit and vinegar.  You know your family from the stories that family and friends tell, but rarely do you meet one of those old best friends that they raised hell with.

For the record I have the best friends ever. Really hands down, best group of friends ever. Fuck all your friends, mine are better.

With the service out of the way I can start to heal, start to look forward. I know I am going to miss him, how can you not. He was one of the most charismatic and charming men I have ever met. At 70 years old he was tougher than most men ever will be. In my life with him we cause more explosions and hijinks’s than I probably ever will again. He was a father, my pops, a daddy, a buddy, a best friend, a big brother, a hero, bad ass and a villain. I will miss his stories and I truly will regret not listening more or zoning out when he told the same story for the 20th time. I think I will miss watching wrestling with him the most. My entire childhood was shaped by me and daddy watching wrestling. We would watch the greats, Wahoo McDaniel, Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat, Rick Flair (mom’s fav), The Four Horsemen, Magnum TA as I became older it was Sting, Sid Vicious, Razor Ramon, Goldberg, Jeff and Matt Hardy, Batista, Evan “Air” Bourne (kid has SO MUCH fucking talent) and Rey Mysterio. They were our gladiators, we didn’t cared if the story was real. When they hit each other it was real, the action was real, they were still risking life and limb every night to make me and my dad jump up and yell “HOLY SHIT!!!”. I will miss that, I will still watch it and yell, “HOLY SHIT!” but I will miss not having the chance to do it with my dad. Sigh..

Like all families we had our faults, things we did wrong, things we could never say, games that were missed, feelings neglected, bad judgments… but we were a family. Family that was always there for each other, family that would have died for one another. Both my parents were there when I came into this world and I was there when both of them left this world. For that I am grateful. I saw them both to the end, held them both and watched them leave this world. I promised my mother I would take care of my father and she was free to go. I did exactly as I said I would do, I will rest a little better tonight knowing I held up my end of the deal no matter how hard it was. I will be honest, there were days I wanted to quit, but I made a promise and those types of promises you don’t forget.

For my father, I can only promise to move on with my life and keep living and honor him with my actions.

It started Wednesday with joy and hope. He came off the blasted ventilator and was breathing very well on the bi-pap mask. I talked to him, he tried to talk, and I told him we would have plenty of time to talk later. His breathing was good and his lungs looked very good on x-ray. He tried to get up and enthusiastically nodded his head yes when asked if he wanted to get up. I thought we had turned the corner, we were in the clear, the silver lining was here, and it was all worth it… we had won.

The phone rings at 7:38 AM, the voice is distant and small, yet comforting. Something was wrong come to the hospital. Dad had stopped processing the nutrient feed from the feeding tube, as a result he had thrown up in his bi-pab mask and it had gotten into his airway. They suctioned out the obstruction, his stats dipped and came back up, the night moved on as normal. Early AM the same thing happened again. This time the stats did not come back up, they put him back on the ventilator.  When I arrived I was given a choice, put in a trache for the vent or take him off of everything. He eyes were wrong, there was nothing there.  I can’t explain it you just know, there was nothing there. You see enough dying people and you know what the spark of life looks like, there was nothing there anymore.  As the day went on it became clear he was not going to make it through the day. God/Nature/Fate had made its choice, now I was pissing into the wind using a machine to sustain a body devoid of hope and spirit. I consulted with another doctor to be sure, I asked him bluntly not to bullshit me, not to be nice but to be honest. He pressed his lips together and shook his head; it was too much to come back from. The infection had taken over and the chances were beyond slim, and the life that would have been left would have been… less than life. He was a strong and proud man, independent and honest, is this what he would want? My heart said no and the words floated through the room like smoke “take it off, take it all off”. The Doctor looked at me and said, “In my next life I want you to be my daughter, he is a lucky man and raised an amazing woman”.

The nurses all said it was the right thing to do.  They stayed till the end, one on each side. For while they left as they had other people to attend to, they didn’t want to go. I told them to tend to the living with a snicker. I pulled the chair close to dad’s bed so I could face him. I laid my head on the bed and held his hand. I counted the beeps and each gasp. They would start and stop. For hours he would stop breathing for a min and then gasp for breath. Each time my heart would sink and rise. Eventually I laid my head down and closed my eyes and stopped listening and just felt. I felt his pulse, the air in the room, the texture of the sheets, the metal clasp of the blood pressure cup cutting into my arm, the prickle of his arm hair on my arm, the feel of his skin in my hands, the pressure behind my eyes… I felt everything. I told him repeatedly it was ok and that I loved him. I told him that he was my hero and that no man would be good enough (haha). I told him that he was going to find momma and it was okay to go, there was no reason to go on, he could rest and I would carry his load from here.  I pulled away from him and whispered, “I’m gay” and I waited for him to cuss me out, there was nothing so I knew that my earlier feeling that he was already gone was true.  I laid my head on his chest and sobbed like a little bitch. The nurses rubbed my back and held his hands. Eventually I just lay on the bed and held his hand till there was nothing at all. The nurses called the time of death and we all cried together.

My 33 years of education had come to an end.

Rest in peace pop, I love you.

12/25/1925-7/3/2009

So that leaves me with two options, I can either have a open casket visitation and then cremate him for around 5000 or I can cremate him and have a visitation for 3000. Do you know they charge almost a 1000 bucks to rent a casket for 2 hours. They have to replace the lining so they use that for the cremation container. I did find one place that would do the open casket wake and the cremation for 3000 but it seemed very ghetto. Not that I mind so much, I like ghetto, my family was always a little ghetto but in my heart I want to do more. I know he doesn’t care, his only wish was to be buried with mom. So the idea is to get mom a headstone that includes a urn and have him placed in that. If I go with the super ghetto option I can afford that. If I don’t it will be awhile before I can. And honestly I am not sure I want pop hanging out on my desk while I save up the cash. I guess I just feel like he has had to struggle his whole life and he has never had anything he didn’t bust his ass for, I just wanted to give him a little more.

This is just all too much. If you have a child, please have another so they don’t have to do it alone. If you have children please get burial insurance. Really, this is jacked up. I hate this so much. Not to mention I am out of vacation time and have to take the next week off unpaid. So kids, have more kids… spread this shit out!

Once I finalize the plans I will let you all know. The service will most likely be Tuesday or Wednesday evening. Instead of flowers and the such I am taking donations to help with services, link is in the side bar to the right.

This sucks.

So now the pin the tail on the disorder game has begun. They think that it is being caused by the blood thinners they are giving him for his heart valve. So this presents this damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario. If they pull them off the thinners he strokes out/heart stops and he dies. They leave him on and he bleeds out and dies. So now they have to find the happy medium of the two.  Who the hell knows what that is.

Tomorrow we try to pull him off the vent again, if he has to go back on I am pulling it if he wants. He cannot live like this.

Zorka won this in a claw game for my dad, its a soldier bear.

On a brighter note, happy July 4th. The bright side is I should have a great view of fireworks from the hospital!

Quick update cause I am drained today. Basically, I fired his doctor cause she is a fucktard and wanted to put my dad down like a lame horse cause “he is too old and this will most likely happen again”. Well she can suck my poorly wiped asshole. After talking to the Pulmonolgist we decided to instead do a bronchial wipe, essentially they stick a scope down the throat and remove any mucus plugs or obstructions (pulled another liter of gunk out). The procedure went well and the response was immediate as his oxygen level topped 100% very rapidly with only 30% assistance from the vent.  There was some apnea issues afterward that almost made me shit myself. I’ll tell you right now, when you have been studying someones every breath for almost two weeks and they stop breathing you jump the fuck up real quick. Quick enough that your knee does not realize it is positioned within direct contact of what will be hence forth named “THE RAIL OF DEATH”.  I will tell you what else, you let loose a stream of profanities that would make Mad Max go to church the subject in question will also jump up and start breathing again. You know what else? The nurse will throw some shit and come running too. Anyway I digress, so for today, things are better.

Tomorrow they are going another Thoracentesis to try to drain off more fluid from the lungs. As of now he is back on the vent, however the Pulmonolgist was very open and honest about his prognosis.  The short hairs is this, he is weak, he is in poor health and he has been through hell, however everything he has is treatable. He thinks that he will be able to come off the ventilator again, and that it’s a matter of clearing the lungs and healing the infections. After that it all depends on how well my father takes care of himself. He was very honest that if anything else happened, stroke, heart attack , ulcer, athletes feet, hang nail etc dad would not be able to make it. So for how we fight till either he gives up or his body does.

Below is more info on what is going on.

Sometimes pneumonia can lead to additional complications. Complications are more frequently associated with bacterial pneumonia than with viral pneumonia. The most important complications include:

Respiratory and circulatory failure

Because pneumonia affects the lungs, often people with pneumonia have difficulty breathing, and it may not be possible for them to breathe well enough to stay alive without support. Non-invasive breathing assistance may be helpful, such as with a bi-level positive airway pressure machine. In other cases, placement of an endotracheal tube (breathing tube) may be necessary, and a ventilator may be used to help the person breathe.

Pneumonia can also cause respiratory failure by triggering acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS), which results from a combination of infection and inflammatory response. The lungs quickly fill with fluid and become very stiff. This stiffness, combined with severe difficulties extracting oxygen due to the alveolar fluid, create a need for mechanical ventilation.

Pleural effusion. Chest x-ray showing a pleural effusion. The A arrow indicates “fluid layering” in the right chest. The B arrow indicates the width of the right lung. The volume of useful lung is reduced because of the collection of fluid around the lung.

Sepsis and septic shock are potential complications of pneumonia. Sepsis occurs when microorganisms enter the bloodstream and the immune system responds by secreting cytokines. Sepsis most often occurs with bacterial pneumonia; Streptococcus pneumoniae is the most common cause. Individuals with sepsis or septic shock need hospitalization in an intensive care unit. They often require intravenous fluids and medications to help keep their blood pressure from dropping too low. Sepsis can cause liver, kidney, and heart damage, among other problems, and it often causes death.

Pleural effusion, empyema, and abscess

Occasionally, microorganisms infecting the lung will cause fluid (a pleural effusion) to build up in the space that surrounds the lung (the pleural cavity). If the microorganisms themselves are present in the pleural cavity, the fluid collection is called an empyema. When pleural fluid is present in a person with pneumonia, the fluid can often be collected with a needle (thoracentesis) and examined. Depending on the results of this examination, complete drainage of the fluid may be necessary, often requiring a chest tube. In severe cases of empyema, surgery may be needed. If the fluid is not drained, the infection may persist, because antibiotics do not penetrate well into the pleural cavity.

Rarely, bacteria in the lung will form a pocket of infected fluid called an abscess. Lung abscesses can usually be seen with a chest x-ray or chest CT scan. Abscesses typically occur in aspiration pneumonia and often contain several types of bacteria. Antibiotics are usually adequate to treat a lung abscess, but sometimes the abscess must be drained by a surgeon or radiologist.

Honestly I am numb, the last two weeks have been so much to deal with. The idea of going through this without any family, dealing with the house and estate crap, the idea of putting dad in a home and the very real fact that he may not make it at all has just got my vaginal nuts all twisted. Loosing Mom SUCKED HUGE BIG DONKEY BALLS, but when a girl looses her dad, there is something different. Dads are superheroes, men of steel and virtue. Hard hands and big booming laughs, truck rides and kissed boo boos. I guess I will always be a daddy’s girl no matter how old I get.

He has been through so much,  seen so much love and pain, who am I to choose if he lives or dies. What makes it my right other than some sperm found a egg and I popped out? With mom it was easy cause she was my best friend. I had to do what was right for her. But for Dad, I am just his little girl.

Thirty mins after her call I ripped into the hospital parking lot and haul ass (okay so more of a brisk walking ass, I only run if being chased or some shit is falling) to pops room. I expect crash carts and George Clooney, instead I see my dad making rude gestures at the nurse, his face covered in thick medical tape. I sense a WTF and FML moment.

Apparently the pressure on the mask was so high it was causing the mask to blow off his face. The lack of o2 caused his stats to crash rapidly, he became agitated and started to loose his breath. The nurse freaks out and calls me, drops pop a craptop of joy juice to calm him and procedes to figure out the issue and tapes the mask to dads face. Pop wakes up, sees the half pound of medical duct tape on his face and cusses out the nurse in country man sign language. I think he called her a cow or he could have been insulting her weave. Either way o2 is back up and he is back to stable. So far the doc has decided to keep him off the vent as long as possible.

Side note, my pants totally fell down in the hospital lobby while carrying food. I basically mooned a hospital.

The nurse rushed me out and told me she would come get me if things got worse. Banished back to the land of hospital waiting rooms. Surrounded by worried people all surrounded by equally worried family. Crying babies, sleeping sisters, fat rednecks with mullets. Though they tainted my previous peace of a empty waiting room,  I was stuck by how alone I was, at least they had family to annoy me with. The only real family I have is currently the one laying in ICU. Which was quickly followed by the thought of being a orphan, a adult orphan… without the red curly hair and the little red dress or the rich old man. Oh well.

Finally 3:00 visiting hour rolls around and I return to find my father back on the ventilator, his lungs are still to weak. He was back on the sleep juice again and no more interactive pops. It was just to much. I hid in the stairwell and cried like a little bitch. With pop returned to his inanimate but yet stable condition, I made my way home and passed out on the couch exhausted. Then the cat woke me up by sniffing me like a dead body. Sweet.