When the End of the Path is in Sight

It appears that the end of this path may be in sight.  I don't like to look ahead to it.

This week brought changes again.  On Sunday and Monday, Trent was still recovering from the high doses of medication he had been given on Saturday.  We continued this week trying to manage the nausea and vomiting.

Wednesday night, Trent was insistent that he was going to church.  Considering how the day had been and how he was feeling, I thought he would give up on that idea.  He was adamant that he wanted to go.  I had my doubts as to his strength to be able to go, but since he was so determined, I decided I would do my best to make it happen.  We arrived late and left during closing prayer.  Trent was absolutely, completely wiped out from the effort. 

Thursday morning, Trent was still exhausted, and I expected that.

Thursday night things changed.  Trent went from his state of being sleepy and 'loopy' from the medication to being severely confused.  There was also a definite change in his eyes.  On Friday morning, he was still severely confused, but he was also unsteady and very emotional.

Trent was scheduled for more IV fluids on Friday, and he said he wanted to try to make that appointment.  We had his usual infusion nurse, Heidi, and she was visibly taken back by the change in him.  She started his IV, and we talked.  For some reason, the Hospice nurse was delaying calling me back; and that did not set well with Heidi.  Heidi got the Hospice nurse on the phone, and I could hear her as she told the Hospice nurse that she MUST get someone out there to evaluate Trent that day!  Heidi walked us out to our van and offered to step in if our Hospice nurse did not take action.

In summary, the nurse did come to the house and the decision was made to have Trent admitted for evaluation.  My biggest issue was wanting to know where we were in this.  The nurse had her opinion; down to the very core of my being, I felt differently.  I was glad we were going in.

Hospice admits directly, so we did not have to go to the ER or stand and wait in the Admitting line.  We arrived, and I brought Trent directly to the floor.  We were greeted by familiar faces.

The Lord worked things so beautifully!  Our regular Palliative doctor, Dr. Illig, 'happened' to be the one on call for the weekend, and she just 'happened' to be on the floor when we arrived.  When she saw Trent's name, she came right to us -- she was in our room within minutes.  Trent was pleased when he saw her.  We talked about what had been going on.  Then she asked me to step in to the hallway to talk.  Her 'gut' feeling is that we have entered an active end-of-life stage, and she believes we are looking at anywhere from hours to days.

I started making phone calls -- our pastor, Trent's dad and brothers, my sister, and one of Trent's best friends from college.  I made sure my sister was bringing the children up to the hospital.

When the kids arrived, I told them that Dr. Illig had been in to see Daddy and that she just doesn't know how much more Daddy's body can take because it has been through so much and had gotten so weak.  (The conversations you never imagine having . . . .)

Trent's parents and brothers were able to come to the hospital as well as one of his uncles and an aunt.  There were tears and prayers and serious things -- and even a little laughter.

Trent was so very tired, and I encouraged him to lie back and sleep.  He told me he didn't want to sleep because he didn't know if he would wake up.  I reminded him that he will wake up -- it is just a matter of whether he will wake up here with his family or in Heaven with his Savior.

I sat by Trent's side all through the night.  I dozed off a few times, but mostly I sat and listened to his breathing.

Today is a day of just 'sitting tight'.  We wait to see what the day will bring.  We feel loved by friends and family both here and far away.  We trust in our God and rest in His plan and in His peace and comfort.