Now with that disclaimer out of the way let me tell you the story of Anne Hathaway and my awesome bff Zorka.  Tonight as we watched the fiasco that is 24 hour news networks we heard the following

“Outside the pristine white walls of the emergency room at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center, the valets stood idle this afternoon and dark-suited men moved back and forth between the entrance and black SUVs.

Two groups of fraternity members blasted Michael Jackson songs from dueling banks of boom boxes outside the emergency room entrance.

In the circular driveway, a woman who identified herself as Michael Jackson’s cousin waited pensively with a friend. A harried man in a suit got out of his car and barked into his cellphone: “Did Latoya come in?”

Suddenly, the sound of Jackson’s music blared from speakers erected on the balcony of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity house across the street.

“Oh, now they’re playing Michael Jackson,” the suited man declared in exasperation into his phone.

As the music continued, a gaggle of crying young girls gathered in the emergency room driveway until police moved them and all the other bystanders back onto the sidewalk. There seemed to be a waiting game for members of Jackson’s family.

“Janet hasn’t gotten here yet,” the cousin said into her cellphone.

Everyone seemed to want to get a glimpse of the family members. As the crowd, grew the Jackson’s hit “Human Nature” wafted through the air from the speakers.”

Zorka looks at me and very innocently, yet slightly sarcastically replies “awwww, maybe he will hear it and come back”.  I giggle and look her “Are you crying????”. “No” she responds, almost offended. ” Well, you did cry over a dress once” I say looking at her mockingly.  She looks at me with tears filling her eyes, ” It was a beautiful dress! Fuck you!”.  Being the little bitch I am, I run to facebook and post it as a status, which earns me yet another FU.

I guess everyone one has their triggers that brings the water works. For me, it was the last 5 mins of K-9 when Jerry Lee gets shot and James Balushi takes him to the ER and threatens the doc with a gun if he doesn’t treat his dog. I cried like a bitch. For Zorka it is the impeccable styling of a glorious gown. For the some it is the passing of a musical icon. For others it was the passing of the hottest Charlies Angel of them all.  Not to forget heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeessssss Johnny! It’s been a rough week for icons.

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 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.

Today has been a little worse, his blood 02 level tanked this AM so he is on a larger BiPap mask, however the nurse seems to think he should be back on the ventilator. So looks like he is in ICU for a while longer. I hate when he comes off the vent only to go back a day or hour later. It just is so hard on the soul to think, “yay! he is getting better, oh wait, no… crap”. So here is hoping that this one is the last one.

On a more interesting note the old folk network has infiltrated the ICU. I swear to god there is a CIA/KGB version of the AARP. In the last 24 hours two extended family members have shown up as hospital staff. One was the hospital receptionist and the other was the lunch lady. They all had different intel, so clearly the spy branch of the AARP may be good at infiltration, but sucks at intel gathering. One thought he was in a coma, the other old spy lady “heard” he had died “three or four times”.  I want to start planting counter intelligence that he actually overdosed on Viagra while at the Foxy Lady.

Also, I have learned to admire and even adore black preachers and deacons. I have come to believe that they are lord’s version of pimps. Think about it, they dress all sorts of badass, they manage a flock, they lay the smack down on the flock when they step out of line and they take “offerings” each week. Pimping for the lord, jump and give a brother a hallelujah… and you better haveThe Lord’s money bitch.

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.