10 years ago today my father died.
I’d like to think he passed peacefully. That he wasn’t in any pain. That he knew I was with him in spirit even though I was miles away.
When I last saw him he was already in a coma. Given medicine to make it easier as everything in his body was failing. He had prostated cancer. He got sick. That sickness turned into sepsis. One by one his body organs began to shut down.
I did the only thing I could do. I placed a DNR on him. The plan was to drive out there and unplug him from live support.
I had several thoughts of what to do when my father got sick. I am the youngest of 3 siblings and for some reason the responsibility landed on me. I do not blame my sisters for what happened. I don’t blame them for laying the decision on me.
You see I found it easier to take the blame. Blame it on me that our father died.
I was the one that placed the DNR on him. I had spoke to his doctors and they knew that I was going to drive out there to sign the paperwork to take him off life support. But my father had other plans. His heart gave out. We all knew it was coming. If memory serves me correct it was beating around 25bmp all day.
I didn’t want my father to suffer. I didn’t want him in pain. I didn’t need a professional to tell my my father was brain dead. I had seen his oxygen saturation drop below 60%. Hell one time it was in the 40%. The father I once knew was gone and he would never be back.
10 years is a lot of time. I wonder what I’ll be doing in 20 years, 30, 40… But one thing I will always know is that I miss my father.