Monday, November 23, 2009

A time to say goodbye...

Ecclesiastes 3

A Time for Everything

1 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

This is one of my favorite passages of the Bible, and the inspiration for the name of my blog--which I'm sure you all figured out.

This week has been full of these "times." I was called back to Nebraska to my daddy's hospital bed. He ended up in the hospital about two weeks ago with difficulty breathing and some other symptoms. The doctors have not figured out what caused his issues, but they were able to get him well enough to go home. Which was good because our family and my sister's family were planning road trips for Thanksgiving, us from Texas and hers from Michigan.

However, last Thursday morning my daddy coded, and while they were able to resuscitate him, he has not woken up. My sister and I, sans husbands and children flew to NE last Thursday in order to be here to say good-bye if necessary. Luckily, daddy held on until we could both actually get here.

I'm not sure what his status is--critical, serious, stable, etc. I'd say all three really. His condition is non-responsive. He's not actually in a coma, he's not unconscious, and he's not on any kind of sedation. He's on a respirator, but he's doing most of the work, so they're trying to wean him off it. He's fighting pneumonia. Most of his vitals are stable, but his blood pressure keeps jumping.

He had his eyes open this past Saturday, but it's a case of "the lights are on but no one's home." Sunday they gave him a low dose of sedation for some reason, but he's so frail and skinny that it knocked him out.

The rest of us are just hanging out and hanging on, waiting for him to wake up or let go.

Update: MRI showed no brain activity. So we will be pulling the minor life support he's on soon and allowing nature to take its course.


L.A. Mitchell said...

Oh, Jen. I'm so sorry. Many prayers for you and your family during this difficult time {{{hugs}}}

mtnchild said...

This is written on the 29th - I am so sorry about your Dad. He will be happy on the great golf course of God. He will be smiling down on all his children and saying "I did good".

Remembering the good times will carry you through.