And it is finished....

The sun has set on a warrior...

May he rest in gentle peace...

His battle has been well fought...

And peace should reign. 

Forevermore... he will be in my soul... 

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and still time rolls...

Summer has come and gone.  Days have blurred, one into another.  The medicine shift we tried in June was a total failure.  Four weeks on the new medicine, and nothing was going right with it. I should not say nothing... the heart was beating better, but nothing else was working right.  Too much medicine... or the wrong amount.  I don't know.  Doc does not know... it is just not worth the risk.  We shifted back to the meds he was on before the shift.

It is so sad to bear witness to the changes that have occurred for this strong and gentle man.  The once strong shoulders, with rippled muscles are now skin covered bone.  The ridges of the bones can be felt so truly and plainly with a small huge.  To lift something is often beyond his ability.  To walk more than about 10 steps can be impossible.  I used to have to run sometimes to keep up with his normal stride.  Heart still rages onward... pummeling the inside of his chest.  Appetite, something that had never been a struggle for him, just does not exist.  Diabetes came to visit and stay with the hospitalization in March of this year.  Could have been there for who knows how much earlier.  It was really just caught then.  The hands and feet... they are numb and feeling like pins are being put into them on a constant basis.  He says the foot rubs help that I give him all the time.  One bright spot there... He has really soft and nice feet now.  What used to be like shoe leather, is a foot that any lady would adore having.  The rheumatoid arthritis tortures him on a daily basis.  Joints in all parts of his body swell and ache.  The pain pills are supposed to help control this.  They don't really.  They just knock him out.  He does not want to sleep his life away.  That is what so many days are reduced too.  His eyesight is rapidly failing.  He is having a surgery latter this week for cataracts.  This is a stop gap measure only.  Docs told him he has macular degeneration.  It has rapidly advanced over the last year.  The cataract surgery will lift the fog.  Docs said that within about 2 years, he will be blind.  There is truly nothing that be done to stop that.  This is the same man, that 6 years ago could do anything he set his mind too.

We have talked about funerals.  We have talked about services, and what he wants done.  Not an easy conversation   Morbid, some would say.  Not really.  Is reality for us.  We know will.... we just don't know when.  I will have no doubt going into the real planning, that I will be doing exactly what he wants.  No guessing.  I would much rather be planning an anniversary trip.  That is coming up again, so soon.  Had the joy of seeing so many weddings recently.  First the elder brother's son.... beautiful, and happy young people... life blooming.  Then sister's eldest daughter... regal... as if a disney princess was getting married... then my oldest... marrying the wonderful man that has already seen her at her worse... standing next to her as she battled and beat cancer.  I don't want this year to be the one of 3 weddings and a funeral... no yet... He is not ready to let go yet...

I have been home sick for the last 9 days.  So weak, I am having trouble just walking.  To talk and walk at the same time... starting to get a little easier... but not there yet.  I keep bouncing off the floor.  I know how scared he is, that I am ill.  I don't want him to be scared.  I am not going anywhere just yet... simply  praying for an early freeze... docs think I have asthma irritated severely by ragweed, causing lungs to revolt.  Tons of meds for me... and time to sit back and quietly just talk.  These days are precious.

Awake now due to the meds... they strip me of sleep.  Help resolve lungs, making sleep elusive... Smiling, as I take the breathing... sleep can wait...pinterest-c18c8.html

Father's Day and the Wall...

Tis been a while since I have had time to sit and write.  Life has twists and turns... things we don't expect, but simply have to react to as our heart and gut tell us is right.

I have had my honey back in the hospital once since my last post.  We went in on this last Wednesday.  Time for a medication shift.  After the last experience, the decision was reached that the only way we would undertake this, was under direct medical monitoring.  So to the hospital we go... Check in took forever.  Hospital had just gone live with a new computer system, and no one was really seeming to get it.  The orders from the doc had been sent, and lost in the transferring to computer.  We sat in the lobby for an hour.  Finally to a room, and it was not too much better.  Went over all the home meds with the admission nurse... and she did not know how to spell most of them... had to spell them out literally, and explain doses, times... explain what he had taken in the morn, and what was due latter...

We literally sat in the room, watching tv together.  Every so often, a telemetry tech would come flying in the door... cause the screens were telling her the heart was going crazy.  Got to the point, he and I were betting on how long till the next out of breath person would burst through the door.  Food was terrible, and they put him on a fluid restriction.  That went over like a bomb... no one was going to tell him how much to drink, or not drink... playing the devils's advocate... he has a way of managing to do what he wants... and it is his life... i don't have the right to tell him no... i just suggest quietly other possible ways to achieve what he wants...

Summer is here in full bloom... and the traveling Wall too.  Told him it was here.  He has never had the chance to visit the full scale one in DC.  It arrived while we were in the hospital, and was not sure how long it was going to stay.  He decided he would like to go out... but not with the wheelchair.  He was going to walk it.  He wanted to bring his dog, as she is a life line.  We have the "rolliator"... basically a walker with hand brakes, and a seat.  I have pushed him around in it a lot, but was very hesitant about taking it out to where I knew the wall was set up.  Grass, and uneven space.  Hotter than hot when we got there... there was a parking space up very close.  A man of Virg's age was sitting in a golf cart at the entry area.  A Marine of Vietnam.   He quietly explained that no dogs were allowed in the area.  He watched Virg cross the street with his walker.  He talked Virg into getting into the cart with him, explaining that he was there just for this reason... to give people a chance to get close that would have a problem otherwise... I volunteered to stay with the dog, and that gentle Marine would not hear of it.  He called to one of his buds, and they took Mocha without a question, joking that they had ate a few dogs like her... and she looked plump.  The Marine kept up a running dialog of the Wall... and tears just ran down my face.  I was not the only one with the tears.  There is no shame in crying at the loss... and the continuing loss...

He explained that the Wall had more names added to it this year.  Men and women that had fallen to Agent Orange.  I don't care how callused you are... to see the names... and how they blur together... knowing that each name was a life lost...

Father's day morn... Jimmie saw the pamphlet we had brought home, and wanted to go out... We had not gotten Virg anything for Father's day yet... just too much rushing to get things done... I grabbed Jimmie while Virg still slept... and let him walk the wall.... he found Robert Joe Overmyer, without my telling him... he had remembered... and he cried...  Told me he wanted a shirt to give to dad... how can I say no... he picked out one of the Vietnam outline... with the words printed on it Vietnam Veteran...."we were winning when I left...".  Dad cried over that... and has it on right now...

Happy Father's day to all... to the ones that made it home... to the ones in heaven... and to the ladies and gentlemen that have stood the line... 

how can i come to grips...

how to type what has happened in the last month.  words seem brittle.  fragile.  false.  i promised myself i was going to type only total truth.  i promised myself this to help me, and to help others that trip across this page.  bear with me...

quiet time after i brought virgil home from the back surgery.  he continued to heal, and seemed to be doing so well.  only problem we had was that he wanted to lift heavy things, like the pug, all the time.  he did continue to take long naps, and not move much.  the energy just was not there.  the last week-end of february, i had to work on saturday.  came home at the normal time, and noted that he was panting a little more than normal to just walk a short distance.  being the week-end, i just passed it off as he spent more time playing with the handicapped son, and was tired.  sleeping, or rather laying in bed next to him that night... i watched as he panted in his sleep.  his wrist told me a story of a heart that was getting into trouble again.  i quietly waited for morning.  i did not sleep much.  sunday arrived with a beautiful sunrise.  virgil flat out refused to go to the emergency room on a sunday.  you cannot make a man move that flat out states no.  i don't care what you try.  he did agree to go to doc on monday.

ok, so monday... i call the cardio office, and am told that the heart doc we normally see is on vacation.  nurse is trying to see if another in the office has a slot to see him.  waiting for the return call.  at this point, the heart is racing along at 140+ just sitting in a chair, and the oxygen level in his blood with oxygen on is at 87.  i call the office back, and let them know i am just going to drive him to the emergency room.  arrive at the er... and we don't have to wait.  tell them rapid heart rate and extreme difficulty breathing, with o2 sat at 87, and they stick you in a room right away.  techs crawling over him to do breathing treatments, just like at home, and draw blood... (no, i didn't do that)... doc saying... "well... we have a room for you upstairs."  tell us they are going to admit us under "lung problems".  something did not feel right, but who am i to argue with the doc.

find out that our lung doc is using a contract doc to see hospital patients, cause they are short one doc due to death, and another retired.  sub lung doc says he is dehydrated, and wants to dump fluids in him.  start fluids at a rapid rate, and breathing treatments every 4 hours.  takes me second day to "light bulb moment" when i realize we have not seen a heart doc.  ask a few questions of the nurses, and find out the lung guy did not listen when we requested one be called.  sat in wait for the lung doc, and made my request very, very clear.  we wanted a heart doc in, cause they are both so intra-related, and nothing is showing improvement at this point... to say the least, this doc was not happy.  i think i am totally beyond caring if a doc is happy.

virg's heart doc came in that afternoon, and about had a cow.  fluids were stopped immediately.  fluid pills given, and meds to bring down blood pressure.  the sub lung doc wanted him walked, so physical therapy showed up to take him down the hall.  the techs watching the monitors came running.  apparently, they get a upset when heart rates hit 190+ when you are on the cardiac floor.  wheel chair back to bed, and heart doc's order of "complete bed rest".  so doc ups the blood pressure medicine.  says we are looking for "good enough".  no more looking for better.  talks of a wheelchair for home.  talks of adjustments.  just "good enough".  my mind screams a primal angst.  my love is nodding agreement with the doc.  does he understand what he is agreeing too?  i think he does.  talks latter will confirm if so.  i will support his decision, for in reality, it is his, not mine to make.

doc closes out his conversation to state we will be going home shortly.  says probably weekend.  time get pushed out every time we talk with a doc.  more time, and more time.  virgil gets all sweaty for just a moment while eating supper.  passes it off as nothing.  says it happens frequently.  within 2 hours, the cold sweat is covering all of him.  he is cold and gray.  he is not making sense when i are talking to him.  i don't have tools here... except to call for the nurses... but they are already on their way... the techs watching the heart monitor get here first.  the nurses almost immediately after.  i explain what had occurred at supper that he convinced me was nothing.  and that literally nothing brought this on... we were just watching tv quietly together.   they inform me they are getting him to the intensive care unit as rapidly as possible, and that if the kids would want to be here, i should call them immediately.  i cannot hear these words... my mind will not focus.  it cannot mean what i know it means.  i have said those words myself.  i know, but i am refusing to know.  i text everyone... i call his brother, rick.  i say it as simply as i can.  i have not spoke with his other brother in ages.  family riff.  i do my best to stay out of it.  i decide that he has the right to know.  i call and leave a message on the voice mail.  i can't think.  i am praying with every breath...

a long, and sleepless night... watching... waiting... praying... please... praying... they give him massive amounts of drugs to bring up the blood pressure.  32 over zero is no joke... and they did all that they could.  they dumped fluids as if there was not a tomorrow... they brought him back from the edge.  now, the search was on to figure out why the edge was here, and why we tiptoed on it.  blood infection?  waiting, and waiting on the tests... seemingly constant bags of iv antibiotics.  i know all the names... they are not holding anything back... covering any possible as we wait... was it a drug interaction?  he is on soooo many.... the list is scoured.... and everything that is not essential to life is removed.  drugs are tested against every other drug... but there is not a test on earth that pairs up every possible combo of meds we do to humans today...

they keep him in icu for two days.  the brother we rarely see did call, and came for the morning.  they know they have him stable.  they say we can go back to the telemetry unit.  only there is no bed available in the telemetry unit.  the hospital is full.  literally.  we had been told we had  one of the last bed when he checked in on monday.  no different today.  another overnight in the icu.  did have a touch of laughter in the morning.  told virg he'd better be getting more rest... cause i had had much less than him, and still the day nurse's notes stated for virg "daughter slept at bedside"... and the only daughter was me... three days in a fishbowl is three too many.... literally... all glass to the room... right next to the nurse station... not a moment of quiet... machines screaming with the irregular heart rhythm and rates...  what we call irregularly regular.  meds and treatments being brought back on board, one at a time.  trying to see if anything will make the crazy happen again... nothing...

so late in the afternoon, third day, they find a room.  in the remodeled area of the telemetry unit... the hot water does not work in the room, but that matters little.... quieter place for babe to get rest... i keep the door closed... and shoo nurses away when he is sleeping. promise to call them the minute he wakes.  now on day 10 in the hospital.  still no answer on why the heart rate clicks along at 120-130.  no answers on why blood pressure bottomed out.  thinking, per docs, too much of one heart drug compared to what his body could tolerate.  not sure, just best guess.  "good enough" for now....

couple more days... have to finish adding drugs back under supervision.  gotta make sure we don't do what happened all too recent.  he can't walk beyond 2 to 3 steps.  more than that, and the heart goes insane.  enough to make transferring to a chair simple.  doc tells us powered chair for home.  says that a manual wheelchair will be too much work for heart.  we talk with the wheelchair company that supplies them.  we begin the paperwork.  oh... the paperwork... until you ask for something expensive from an insurance company, you have no idea...

the days slip past... and sunday finally arrives.  day 13...  the day we are promised that we get to go home.  it is sunday, and the docs do not do rounds early.  as we have two, we need both to say ok.  they do amble in after a time.  it is nearly 2 before we see the last doc.  the nurses have to paperwork done already for the most part.  we are discharging with insulin due to blood sugars being really, really high with the steroids he has to have for his lungs.  paperwork has to be prepped and cross checked... almost 4 before we finally get to leave... and i am more than a little scared.  so much has happened over the last two weeks.  i saw him literally at death's door.  now he is mine only to watch over.

the drive home is quick.  the dogs on leashes so they don't totally maul virg.  they calm down, and seem content to have their master back.  i have meds i have to get from pharmacy.  he is in no shape to go there with me.  i tuck him into a bed for rest, and run to walmart pharmacy.  supper is a quick affair of soup, salad and a sandwich.  he is so totally worn out, that we surrender to bed once done.

i call work to explain that i cannot leave him without a wheelchair at home.  yes, he can stand to transfer.  yes, he can walk a few steps.  the real question is, should he?  doc says no.  doc says stand to transfer only.  we have a desk chair with wheels, and a walker with wheels and a seat.  between the two, i am getting good at moving him.  he has fallen every day for the first week home.  he kept trying to move himself, when i was in another room getting him a drink, etc.  virg finally does understand that i will dive in, and give him the cushion of falling on me.  i am a lot softer than the floor.  his osteoporosis is going to be the total bruising of me.   finally, he is calling for help, and waiting the moment that is takes me to get there.

thankful for a really great workplace.  fmla means i get the time off that he needs, until i can get the chair here, so he can move himself.  i don't get paid for it, but i am here, and that is what really counts in the end.  i am here.... and so is he... and he understands...

time seems to slip away...

Tis been over three weeks since I have sat to type... Life has been running away, like a train downhill, no brakes.    Surgery on the back for Virg was accomplished on January 25th.  Kyphoplasty.  A balloon is first inserted into the fractured bone through the hollow needle to create a cavity or space. The cement is injected into the cavity once the balloon is removed.  In effect, it immediately recreates the size and shape of the previously fractured bone.  Ergo, the pain is gone, because the spine is no longer getting pinched in a most unfriendly way.  


Kids all had to work.  Having to reschedule it, made it impossible for any of them to get the day off.  Both Virgil and I were in shock when his brother, Rick, showed up before surgery.  I don't have words that can express how grateful I was... I really did not want to sit by myself, waiting.  Rick talked of old times, and just kept conversation simple.  Darling Dixie showed up after they had taken Virgil.  We all sat, and laughed.  Doc Eck came walking into the waiting room with a million dollar smile on his face.  He didn't need to say a danged thing.  The smile told me everything.  Virgil made it through with no problems... so take that, you horrid nurse practitioner.  We had to wait to see him until they brought him to his room.  I think that was the hardest part of all.  I wanted to go to the recovery room.  I totally understand why they do not let families... but that is where my heart wanted to be.  


Was not long, and we were walked to his room.  He showed up about 5 minutes latter.  Someone had mentioned to him that he got to go home... and that was not a good thing to say to this guy... cause that is what he really wanted.  Convinced him we would survive one night in the hospital, and he called down to the kitchen.  Grumbled loudly about the food choices, and I ended up going to Perkin's, promising to bring him back his favorite from there... When I returned, he was sharing the hospital food with the grandson... and he still managed to wipe out all the food from Perkin's.  When he said he was hungry, he meant it.


Doc came in to see us the next morn... and said we were golden to go.  Took the dressing off the back.  I was expecting something huge, cause the dressing was 10x10 inches, and had a ton of packing under it.  With the removal, I saw they managed to do everything literally through 2 punctures, and closed both with only one suture each.  Band aid to cover it... 12 days and the sutures come out. 


Each day at home is a little better.  Have to remind him every so often that he still can't be lifting anything of real weight, cause there are other vertebrae ready to crumble.   


Showed me a rash on his leg last Tuesday morn.  Looked like a small amount of contact dermatitis.  I had just changed the sheets, and thought maybe not all the soap was removed.  Next day, hear from youngest daughter that she has a strange rash.... and the walls cave in on me.  I go to look at Virg's leg again...it has grown HUGE over the span of one day.  The youngest is not going to have a rash if our sheets have soap in them... and they have never had soap in them... no... she reminds me when I am grilling her that she had to take grandchild to doc for a virus... and that was right after she had visited last... and that was 12 days ago.  Yeep.... shingles....

Call to the doc.... she had not contacted me until after 4pm.  Leave a message for the doc.  They call back within 1/2 hour.  Ask if I am sure it is shingles... and I know without a doubt what shingles look like... I just had not seen it go bad this fast... it was tiny bumps this am... spread out over a small space.  Now it is from below knee to tush... and starting to blister out... evil things... Doc ordered another script... and asks for us to come in the next day.  

Off work early again, and dashing to doc's office... confirmed what I already knew... the anger in me is raging.  This was so preventable.  Shingles don't itch... they burn with pain... fix one pain, and another one visits us.  I am starting to wonder if we are being tested...  I am flunking...

total frustration does not begin to explain it...

Middle of winter.  Weather at it's worst... snow, sleet, sub-zero weather... drivers that do not have a clue as to how to drive in the stuff, trying.  So many four wheel drive vehicles on their roofs... or jammed into snow banks.  Finding amusement in the fact there are hardly any front wheel drive vehicles jammed or disabled.

Spent the Thursday seeing the back surgeon.  Then off to an MRI to clearly define the area that is causing unreal pain.  Bone density testing.  Friday, back to see the rheumatologist for the osteoporosis.  Saturday working... and then Monday getting all the tests done that had to be completed pre-op.  Tuesday to see the GP for surgical clearance, and the nurse practitioner for final clearance.  Never saw this person before.  Have dealt directly with the doc.  He was working in the intensive care unit all week, and the nurse practitioner normally does surgical clearances.  First thing out of her mouth was, "I have never seen you before.  I really don't know anything about you."  She proceeded to question every aspect of his care that her own doc has put into place.  Saying "this is odd...." or "this is just not normal...".  Something told me things were going several south.  She then announced that Virgil has a mild case of thrush right now, and the EKG done at the hospital was "extremely not normal", and she could not pass him for surgery.  Stated no surgeon would touch him with either.  I asked what she was comparing the EKG too.  She stated that the last one done was in October, and no doctor would touch him with the EKG doing what it is doing right now.  I asked about getting clearance with the cardiologist, as they see him once a month, and have said that everything is stable, and have evaluated him themselves for surgery, with everything being alright.  She then stated she still could not clear him with a mild case of thrush.  She said we should see the cardiologist right away, and her "girls" would arrange an appointment.  The front clerks called, and said they could not get him in for two weeks.  I called the office, as I stood directly in front of them, and they asked if we were in Cedar Rapids.  I stated we were five minutes from their office.  They said "come right way",  as they had nothing but cancellations all day, and had TONS of openings.  OK, so we got flunked by a nurse that was going to find a way to flunk him, no matter what we did, but we could have the "extremely not normal EKG" checked out right away.  ARGH!!!!!  He has a continual case of thrush, due to the antibiotics that her own doc prescribes.  He takes medicine for it every day.

Anyway, off to the cardiologist.  We were not in the office three minutes before we were called back to see the doc.  Explained what we had just been told about the EKG.  Doc Chawla, the cardiac surgeon, pulled up the EKG that the hospital ran.... and came back in laughing.  Stated that it was unchanged since October, and that he was writing a clearance letter to the back surgeon.  Stated there was absolutely no reason from the cardiac standpoint that surgery could not proceed.  ARGH!! ARGH!!! ARGH!!!!

Soooo, we have a regular appointment with the actual Pulmonologist on Tuesday.  Talked with the Jennifer, the scheduler for the surgeon.  Made arrangements to move the surgery to one week latter.  OMG! The surgeon, Dr. Eck, just called our home, himself.  He was on call all last night, and just woke up after an entire night of sleep... and saw Virgil was off the schedule.  Wanted to check for himself on what was going on.   That is, impressive to say the least.  Quickly explained, and he said, "Jennifer will arrange it all, see you next Wednesday then!"

OK. So I have spoke with, or texted everyone that I had arrangements with.  I am leaving the suitcase packed.  Arrangements made for next week now, for someone I trust completely, to stay with the handicapped son.  Only thing left to do, is try to trade off with someone at work.  That should not be a major problem.  I already have traded my Sunday off to someone, so I can have a Tuesday to take Virg to the Pulmonologist.  I am sure someone will get excited about having a Saturday off. so I can get either Wednesday or Thursday as a comp day.  I already missed 3 entire days of work, prepping for this.  Savings is there for a reason... and I don't want to have to reach into it too much.  Still have to meet the day to day bills.

I had tried to get through to the Hearing Clinic at the U of I.  Appointment was scheduled for today with handicapped son to have his hearing rechecked.  They never did call me back until last night late, when I already knew the surgery was cancelled.  He seems to have "select a hearing" problem.  He never misses me stating there is something to eat, or something fun to do.  Other things, such as last night, when I told him it was past time for bed, and he should head for bed, and I would wake dad... not so much... He got up, and then immediately went over and started shaking Virgil.  Not a good thing with the pain of any jarring motion.  I called out three times, trying to stop him, and he just ignored me.  When I asked what he was doing, he said he was doing what I said.  Not quite.... room was quiet, and he was looking right at me when I said it.  He reads lips very well when he cannot hear... How to make him understand that you can't roughly jar a person in pain?  I don't have an answer for that one...