Barb's Last Days

CLICK here to view “How to Find a Wife,” the story of how we met and married.

CLICK here to view “A Halo for Barb - Barb’s Miracle,” the story of just one of her struggles with health problems.

CLICK here to view, “Postscript to a Beautiful Life,” Reflections on the days following Barb’s funeral.

The story -
My heart has been wrenched from within me and slammed against the wall. God help me to bear the pain. Sunday morning, October 16, 2005 at 8:40 my dear, sweet Barbara passed from this life into the next. May God receive and hold her good and precious soul in his gentle hands. She waited until Sunday, her day, to leave us. Born on Sunday as well, I can’t help thinking she wanted to leave us on a Sunday. Both of her boys, Michael and Adam as well as my daughters, Robby, Diana, Mindy and her husband, Joe were with me at her bedside as she passed. My daughter Deb was with us until three Sunday morning when she had to head back home to California. Barb finally lost her struggle with countless health problems and great pain she suffered for most of the last seven years.

Her final journey started a week ago on Friday morning when she was taken to the ER of Goshen Hospital. Her nurse at Lakeland Rehabilitation and Healthcare Center called me to tell me she went because her blood pressure became so low. This had happened several times before and though I was concerned I was also sure she would rally as before. I arrived at her bedside at about the same time as the doctor and though she was weak she managed a smile and the words, "Well, here we are again." As usual, she was joking with the ER personnel. Somehow, Barb always had a jovial or uplifting thing to say no matter how bleak things seemed. The previous week she had been having intestinal problems and had become weak and dehydrated. Also, as usual, they had great difficulty getting an IV into her tiny veins. When they finally succeeded, the IV soon began to bring her blood pressure back to acceptable levels.

Fully aware, she asked for the phlebotomist to draw her blood after the nurse tried twice unsuccessfully. Even good ones had trouble with her tiny veins and fragile skin so she was pleased when the gal who took her blood successfully several times before came in. A tiny woman just four foot ten in height, Barb had tiny hands, feet and most other proportions of her body. She always joked about her tiny, "nothing" nose. Having gone through this many times in many places, I was neither surprised nor much afraid as she had always come through them all. I felt certain the hospital staff would soon have her back in Lakeland where she could continue to improve and soon come home. At Lakeland she had been slowly regaining her strength and was walking more and more with her walker.

When the ER staff had given her enough fluids to bring her blood pressure into normal range she was transferred to ICU where she had been in June. Tests indicated she had an infection, probably in her lungs, there was some fluid around her lungs and her liver enzymes were somewhat elevated. She was given antibiotics and medication to help her liver. By Saturday noon her vitals were stabilized but her breathing was still labored, a bit less than before. She was given lassix to help eliminate excess fluids and her kidney output was soon doing really well. We were all encouraged by her progress.

As always, Barb charmed those around her with her warmth and Christian affection. Few who spent time with her avoided falling under the spell of her persistent, loving charm. Her marvelous knack of touching the hearts of those around her worked its magic no matter how weak or sickly she became. Several of the nurses remembered her fondly from her previous stay in ICU in June. They stopped by to cheer her up even though they were not assigned to her care. This was the essence of Barbara, touching all who came near her with love and kindness based in a strong and generous Christian faith. A pastor, but not a "preacher," she spoke more with people than at them, even in her sermons. This special talent was a rare gift.

Saturday through Monday they ran numerous tests including blood, an ultrasound of her heart and arteries, a special QV test, similar to a CT scan, but less stressing. They were beginning to express concern about her liver and did a complete ultrasound examination on that organ. The results would not be read until Tuesday, but a preliminary report was encouraging. During this period many of our friends came to visit and offer encouragement.

Tuesday morning her doctor told me the terrible news that her liver was failing and she would be with us only a few more days at most. There is no good way to hear those words and no words can describe the flood of hurt and pain coursing through my body. Devastated doesn’t begin to express what I felt at that moment. The doctor explained that all they could do was make her comfortable and relieve her pain for the time to come. The remainder of that day is a jumble of activities in my memory. I hardly knew what to do next. I soon went in to be with her and we shared the dreadful news. She looked into my tear-filled eyes and said, "I knew it is time. I’ve made my peace with the Lord and I’m ready to go home." I have no idea how long I held her. It could have been hours, but was probably only a few minutes.

Somehow I managed to call all our family members, drive home and get Buford, our motor home, take Charlie, our little dog, to stay with friends and head back to the hospital. Fortunately, our dear friend Helen Smoker was there to be with her while I went home to do what I had to do. With Buford in the parking lot, I could stay there as I had in June, less than a minute from her bedside. I hurried back to her room to be with her as much as possible. Helen stayed with us for a while, a great comfort. I know pastor Mike Heath came and spent time with Barb several times, but just when is a casualty of my disrupted memory. I prayed she would last long enough for her boys and my girls to get here. I had no concept of what the next few days held in store for us. Totally crushed physically, emotionally and mentally, I stayed and talked with Barb until the medication mercifully put her to sleep.

At the nurses urging, I trudged out to Buford and collapsed on the couch in my clothes. They assured me I would be called on my cell phone should there be any change or should she awaken. I slept fitfully until about six in the morning.

Wednesday: When I woke up I shaved, washed my face and put on my red shirt, one that Barb really liked. I wanted to look my best for my sweetie. She was still asleep when I arrived in ICU. Once more the day was a muddle in my memory. She awoke soon after I arrived at her bedside and we talked. I showed her the red shirt and said I wore it especially for her. Mostly I told her how much I loved her. I know several friends came, but, as before, the day is such a muddle of memories, I‘m not sure even what happened on what day. Mostly I prayed for family to be here before she passed. I told her that her boys, her mother, her brother and my girls were on their way to see her. I could see she was failing and I prayed that she hold on until they arrived.
During the day they removed her IV and stopped giving her meds. She would only be given Atavan to relieve her anxiety and morphine for her pain as long and as much as was necessary. Fluids would be withheld as her kidneys were failing and fluid buildup in her body would certainly make her uncomfortable with no real purpose. It was quite clear her organs were shutting down and there was nothing more they could do medically except make her comfortable. To free a bed in ICU they moved her to the fourth floor next to the room she had been in during her stay in June. They explained that everything being done in ICU could be done on the fourth floor and that they needed the ICU bed for another patient. It hurt, but I realized they were right.

By night time she had declined considerably. Her breathing was more labored and she spoke only with difficulty. Before she went to sleep she looked directly at me and kept repeating, "Go home! Go home!" That about tore the heart right out of me. Some time back she had said she wanted to look out her window at the lake once more. If I could have I would have gladly taken her home to die, but of course, it was not practical. Those words in her weak, plaintive voice, "Go home! Go home!" will repeat in my head for a very long time. I shall try to continue sharing this experience as I remember it.

Thursday: Dear Barbara, it is morning and I am praying your sons and my girls arrive before you depart. I’ve said a thousand times, "I love you!" and shed a thousand tears. I feel like falling apart, but must remain strong and supportive for you. I can see you look at me, but your voice is silent. Please hear me as I say, "I love you!" over and over. I know no other words to say. I’m quite sure you are hearing me as I can see a response in your eyes. Thank God! Adam, Mike and your mother have arrived. Tears and hugs, kisses and more words, "I love you." "Mindy! How glad to have you here." My youngest daughter has arrived with more hugs, kisses and tears.

Thank you God for the wonderful families both Barb and I have and treasure. Sharing doesn’t lessen the tears, but does make them more bearable. I can’t imagine going through this with no one for support. I kiss my dear Barbara on the forehead, cheeks and lips hoping to relieve her pain and anxiety. I hold and kiss her tiny hand, realizing full well it may be for the very last time. My God, how I am going to miss her. Her passing will leave a huge empty hole in my life.
We borrow a CD player from ICU and play soft music in the background. Barb loved music and I pray she hears the gentle music and is comforted. Friend Holly goes to her car and brings up several hymn books. We sing many of her favorite hymns, hoping they are of comfort. She opens her eyes and moves on occasion. We have no way of knowing whether she sees or hears us, but we speak to her as if she does. How I hope she hears our songs and words of love. Or should we be praying she is asleep and unaware? It is so painful to have these thoughts as we know so little about what she understands and she can’t communicate with us. I now pray for her to go to sleep. I spend the night in her room with Adam. She seems to sleep through the night with little stirring.

Friday: As I write these words my dear, sweet Barbara lies here eyes closed, breathing fitfully in her hospital bed, her tiny hand clutched in mine. I hold and kiss that small, soft hand just slightly more than half the size of mine that will soon pass from me forever. I watch as her body struggles to maintain life. Her eyes have not opened for a full day, but she occasionally stirs and utters a low moan. I pray that she is not aware and suffering, but fear she may be. The nurses are giving her morphine through her IV on a regular schedule so the she does not feel pain. Her breathing continues in gurgling gasps sometimes as long as thirty seconds apart. My daughter Deb arrives and we share a teary greeting. The growing support in the room from family and friends is wonderful. I continue praying to God, asking that He take her NOW! The pain of seeing her struggling and suffering is unbelievable. The nurse assures me she is feeling no pain, but still, I worry.

Saturday: Another day much like Friday, but with her breathing becoming slightly more labored. Words of affection and love - words of compassionate prayer - no words of hope. I look at her frail little arms - purplish brown bruises from the slightest touch - skin like crinkled tissue paper - all from her long use of prednisone - muscles shrunken from the ravages of PPS and months of little exercise. I kiss her tenderly on the forehead and notice the "dimples," as she called them, from the penetrating screws of the halo device she wore for the twelve weeks of recovery from major cervical spine surgery in California in the spring of 2002. That time also she walked a narrow line between life and death.

I hold her hand more now, reluctant to let go fearing and knowing soon I will never be able to do so again. As she sleeps peacefully, all in the room are talking more now, sometimes pleasant, sometimes joking. Then, when she stirs and tries to open her eyes, the pain in our hearts bursts forth in tears and sobs as we all are attentive to the beloved little lady as her body struggles and clings to life. Now we are all praying she will go to sleep and suffer no more. Grief and pain comes over us in waves. "God, please end her suffering and take her now!" I pray silently as I gaze at her beloved face.

Sunday: Daughters Dee Dee and Deb stay with me for the night. At three Deb leaves to drive to Detroit to catch a plane back to California. She kisses my sleeping lady, gives me a long hug and a kiss and I walk her down to her car. Dee Dee stays with Barb so she won’t be alone. About seven o’clock the rest of the family returns to her room. She is still sleeping peacefully, her head propped against a rolled up towel to keep her in a comfortable position. I am reminded of the times when she was wearing the halo device during her recovery from neck surgery when I rolled towels and placed them under her head to make her more comfortable. This is quite different.

Between eight and eight thirty she stirs several times and seems to be trying to open her eyes. We all express our love in word and deed as best we can. Tears flow freely as it is apparent the end is near. After a few struggling gasps and a low moan her breathing finally stops. A few moments later the nurse checks her and pronounces she is gone. It is eight-forty as she passes into the hands of our waiting Lord. We all say our tearful goodbys.

A message from Barb? I am driving Buford home with Adam beside me. The words, "Take your meds! Take your meds!" come into my head very clearly. I had not taken them as yet. Those words had never popped into my head before. My memory just doesn’t work that way. About fifteen minutes later the same words are ringing in my head once more, "Take your meds! Take your meds!" Suddenly I realize what is happening. Those are the same words Barb used so often to remind me to take them. I told Adam and we agreed it must be Barb. Surely, my new guardian angel is on my case, reminding me.

Monday morning, daughter Diana (Dee Dee) and I are meeting with the funeral director and going over Barb’s carefully thought out plan for her funeral. I had two hand written pages she had gone over with me several times and the funeral director had a sheaf of papers in his folder. My dear little lady didn’t want anyone to have to deal with planning. She told me over and over, "I want this to be a celebration of my life - a happy recollection - a loving gathering." Everything down to the smallest detail was written on those papers starting about the time we were married. She updated it frequently over the years with changes in black ink over the original blue, both on our copy and the one the director held.

When we were finished, the funeral director said. "There is only one thing she didn’t mention, what she is to wear."

I had noticed that missing from the paper I held and earlier had decided that in the absence of instructions I would have her wear her favorite red dress. The very first thought that immediately popped into my head was her wedding dress so I immediately said, "wedding dress." Diana and I conferred quickly and decided that would be it, the beautiful dress she wore in our wedding. After the director wrote this information in his records he gathered the instructions up and noticed a single sheet with her earliest instructions written in 1993. He turned the sheet over, looked and showed us a note on the back with the words, "wear wedding dress" written in her clear hand. I cannot remember our discussing this though we may have. I like to think my dear sweet guardian angel was once more prompting me.

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