May 26, 2009

It's Tuesday, May 26, 2009.  I was woken up early by some movement in the bed.  I opened my eyes to see Jason trying to get out of bed.  I asked him what he was doing and he said he was trying to go to the bathroom.  I jumped out of bed and helped him up, walked him to the toilet, sat him down, and then waited at the door.  He hadn't been to the bathroom in days, and I didn't expect that he'd be doing anything now...but it's what he wanted.

I peeked through the crack in the door and saw him struggling to sit up.  After a few minutes, he looked like he was having trouble, so I went in to help him up.  There was nothing in the toilet, but he didn't notice and flushed anyway.  I got him back to bed, but felt something hit my arm.  It was blood.  My first thought was another nose bleed, but I looked and he was fine.  I turned and looked at the bathroom and there was a trail of blood back to the bed.  I panicked running my hands all over his body trying to find the source until I came to the IV line still in his left arm.  Blood was literally shooting from the entry point onto him, onto me, and onto the bed.  I threw him on his back and jerked his arm into the air which stopped the spurting.  I screamed for his parents to wake up and come in to help me.  We got a towel on it and applied pressure while I called the nurse.

We ended up having to call the paramedics who were there in minutes.  They were able to stop the bleeding and wrapped his arm to keep it from bursting again.  It seems that when I picked Jason up off the toilet, I must've grabbed his arm in an awkward way and ruptured the IV line.  It was a scary sight - especially having to call the paramedics.  It was at that point that I knew we needed more help from hospice.  I spent the next several hours screaming my way through different hospice workers before finally getting some movement.  They'd be delivering a hospital bed and other supplies later that afternoon.

After we got everything cleaned up, we got Jason out to the living room where he laid down on the couch.  His parents and I, in the meantime, had a little conference in the other room where we discussed the difficult topic of planning the end.  Jason wanted to be cremated, so we needed to line up the funeral home, find an urn, etc.  They were going to go that afternoon to set all that up.  I felt so bad for them...in this strange city they didn't know having to go to a funeral home they knew nothing about to deal with the final arrangements for their only son.  It was just an incredibly sad situation.

While they were gone, hospice arrived and set up the hospital bed.  We also got a wheelchair, and a few other supplies.  We also learned that we'd be getting more help - in the form of a home health aide...basically someone to help lift him up, clean him, etc.  That was a relief...after some very frustrating moments trying to get the hospice company to respond to our pleas.  We really wanted 24 hour care, but were told the situation was not critical enough for that.  As soon as the bed was set up, Jason wanted to get in it.  We helped him up, shuffled him over and sat him down.  He never got out of that bed again.

Later that evening, a group of Jason's friends came by to bring dinner (even though we were still overrun with food) and spend some quality time with him.  By now, though, Jason was in and out of it quite frequently.  So, instead, we spent the night hearing amazing and hilarious stories about him while he slept.  Every once in a while, he'd wake up, smile, and say "Oh hi!" to someone who addressed him.  It was so cute the way he said it, and made everyone's mood a little lighter.  That is until it was time for them to say goodbye.  There were lots of tears, hugs, and kisses.  Everyone knew this would be the last time they saw him alive.  Standing by watching these first set of goodbyes was incredibly gut-wrenching and only made me dread the final moment when I had to do the same.

I wanted to stay up with Jason in the living room where the hospital bed was, but his dad insisted that I get some sleep.  He wanted to spend time with Jason, and I wasn't about to deny him that.  So, I went over to the bed, sat down next to Jason and held his hand.  Watching him sleep, so peacefully...it actually made me smile.  I knew his pain would be over soon, and for that I was thankful.  I squeezed his hand and said his name.  He opened his eyes, and I looked directly into them.  I leaned in and kissed him...he kissed back...and I told him I loved him.  He said "I love you too baby" before closing his eyes again.  It was the last time I ever heard him say that.

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