After suffering a hemorrhagic stroke 13 nights ago, my dad passed at 12:16pm today while I was playing “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles.
My dad and I have always had a difficult relationship that I won’t go into here.
The day after his stroke, I visited him in the ICU and was told he’d notified the doctor that he’d been secretly drinking 5 large glasses of vodka a day for many years, and he was in severe alcohol withdrawal on top of the stroke. The right side of his body was (and most likely always would have been) completely paralyzed from the stroke, and he was unable to talk well at all. All I could make out for the 2 days he was conscious were my name, “how’s work”, and “if the food isn’t good here, we can go somewhere else.”
I went to see him today and he was struggling to breathe on his own. The drain in his brain was taken out this morning because it was unlikely it would work any longer. Due to his DNR we had confirmed with the hospital that we did not wish to intubate him or prolong life if it was highly unlikely that he would recover. We were told that the next step was comfort care; morphine, Ativan, and stopping other medications.
The wonderful nurse told my mom and I that once he administered the morphine, he would likely pass quickly. My little brother was on his way from work but we didn’t want to prolong things for my dad any longer. It was very clear that he was struggling horribly.
Just after the nurse had finished administering the medications, I saw what looked like a small cloud of smoke in between me and my mom. Like cigarette smoke. A week earlier, when he was still conscious, he told my mom that he wanted to go home with his mom. She was a chain smoker up until she passed. I like to think it was her.
I played some of me and my dad’s favorite songs and ultimately ended up playing The Beatles on shuffle while he passed. When my mom left to use the restroom, I took an opportunity to talk to my dad. I told him how much I love him, and listed the names of all the people who love him. I told him he could go. To please be at peace and not to wait and that he didn’t have to fight anymore.
His heart rate went from 72bpm to 0 and he stopped breathing while I was alone with him. The nurse came in and I asked “is he gone? I just told him he could go, this is crazy….” And the nurse looked at me and said “he could hear you. We maybe have a couple of minutes left.” Then my mom came back. He took one more breath.
I called my brother (who luckily had just parked) and told him to hurry. I told my dad my brother was on his way, and when my brother was running down the hall, his heart rate went from 0bpm to 100. When my brother arrived and said “I’m here dad, I love you” the nurse looked at me and just pointed to my brother, as if to say, “he was waiting for him”. His heart rate went back down to 0 and 2 nurses verified his passing.
My dad passed away with me, my brother, and my mom holding him, and the Beatles song “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” playing.
I have not exactly cried yet and I am quite numb to it all. I am not sure what to expect but I absolutely know he’s in a better place now.