I saw my last post. It broke my own heart.
On April 1st. My husband seemed out of breath. He’s a big guy. Sometimes he loses his breath but this one scared me. He didn’t want to go to the hospital. So the next best thing? Call his sister.
That night he came down with a cold. I chalked it up to that.
Over the days he was pretty sick. But nothing unlike a cold or mild flu. Coughing. Congestion. I was worried but not overly.
April 8th he seemed worse. He was having a hard time getting up to urinate, I cleaned up the messes in the bathroom but still said he was okay.
April 10th Jessica bursts in my door and says Allan needs help. I rush in the common bathroom and he’s on the toilet. Urine on the floor and he’s crying. His leg was numb. I was worried because a few nights he slept in his office chair because of the congestion. I’d go on my cameras to check on him. He’d be in his chair. Not sleeping but he was breathing fine. But this was new. I helped him to his office chair from the bathroom and called 911.
They arrived and took him directly to kaiser. I followed behind with items he asked for.
Doctors didn’t seem too worried. They started him on an IV drop with antibiotics and were working on getting his leg checked out. When he left for his MRI, I went home. Changed and brought Jessica with me. He was still in the Er. Talking, in good spirits. He was so happy Jessica was there. We left to get dinner I told him I loved him. That was the last time I talked to him. He had asked me if I was coming back that night, I did not, I did not think it was that serious. I worked the next day, the full day.
April 11th he was already intubated by the time I came to visit. He had been struggling breathing and they confirmed there was a clot. I went into panic mode. The wanted to do exploratory surgery on his heart and add a central line. He was not happy with all the needles. I quickly signed the authorization off he went.
They knew he had blockage in his right leg as he got had little to no pulse and it was cooler than the the other left leg when your touch it but kaiser can’t do that surgery
Immediately the doctor said Allan had an infection with a leaky aortic valve. Endocarditis. He needed surgery. Two now. For the clots in his leg and then the heart valve replacement.
Wednesday they were prepping him to be transferred to Mercy medical, where oddly enough was where I first saw him, but then Mercy refused him. Based on the multiple surgeries and because he was so sick.
Thursday they are trying other hospitals Santa Clara, San Francisco. All of them saying no. His weight was too big of a risk factor and they did not have a surgical bed to even support his weight, 426 pounds. He’s not getting any better. He’s still intubated. He’s got ice packs on and a fan trying to keep his fever down.
Friday nothing until Friday evening, late when finally Sutter Medical says yes. I was dead asleep from lack of sleep. It took them all (Zsa, Rhoda, nurses, doctors) calling my cell and then my kids waking me up.
Saturday 4/16 at 130 am I get a call saying Allan lost circulation in his leg and they had to do surgery. NOW. I stayed up. Worrying. Pacing. They call me at 4am. He’s fine. They got the clot out. I go to see him but he is still sedated. He’s still running fevers. They’re trying to cool him down with cooking blankets.
Sunday through thursday It’s more of the same. He has fevers. They’re trying to cool him down. His labs… some get better. More get worse.
Friday his fever breaks. Finally. But he’s still on medication to keep his blood pressure high. Until he’s off of the “pressors” no surgery.
Saturday and Sunday they continue to try to take him off and then his blood pressure shoots down.
Then Monday is a great day. He’s off the pressors. I’m hopeful for the first time in 2 weeks. I get a call at 9pm he had a stroke.
It was at that moment. I knew.
There would be no life saving surgery. There would be no recovery.
Tuesday morning… Zsa and Randy (his siblings) and I get to the hospital. Dr Jones sits us down and says there is no hope. My heart breaks for the first time. I know what my husband wants… and he wouldn’t want to be on machines. It’s time to let him go. I’m holding it all in. Breathing slow and deep. Not allowing tears to fall. Because I know if I let that little bit of emotion crack through I may not be able to say the words I need to with confidence. We all gather back around Allan. Holding his hand. Talking to him with Dr Stoneberg, Jeff walks in. My heart drops.
We walk to another room with his assistant I give them my instructions. DNR and we turn off the machines thursday morning. I’m trying not to hyperventilate and start crying so more deep slow calming breaths.
I walk back in the room and tell his siblings. Siblings he loves so much that I’m letting their brother die Thursday morning.
My heart breaks again when his sister starts crying harder. I feel a little dizzy but I hold my husbands hand. Her brothers hand. Knowing I’m making the right decision. I refuse to cry.
People start arriving in droves. So many. We got in trouble at one point and I had to stay in the room. By the end of the day I was exhausted. Spent.
Wednesday was the exact same thing. I stayed with him. Alone. Talking to him. Telling him I love him. That he was the best husband and father to my kids. That he never disappointed us ( he mentioned this in the ER room ) and I walked out knowing in less than 12 hours I would be a widow. I’d be without my best friend.
Thursday. I get a call at 439am. They told me to get in. Now. His pulse was going slower and slower. I hauled ass to the hospital. I screamed and cried the entire way there. THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING. Arrive at 4:59am. Run to his room.
I’m talking to him. Grasping his hand hard so he will hear me. I tell him you can let go now. I know you’re tired. I know how sick you are and how hard you tried. But it’s okay. I’ll be okay. The kids will be okay. Zsa and Randy will be okay. You can let go. I hugged him. Snuggled him kissed his hands. Touched his hair and face. Then at 5:20 after 15 minutes of his pulse going up and down and back again. It didn’t come back.
He flatlined.
The nurse came in a quietly said he just passed
I wanted to scream no!! He can come back.
My heart broke. This time a piece was gone. It wasn’t small either. My husband occupied so much of my heart. There is very little left now.
I held his hand selfishly for a few minutes. Dreading my next call. Calling his sister.
I simply said “He just passed”. She screamed out what! But I knew she heard me. I stayed silent as she processed what I said. I whispered softly. I’m so sorry.
Her anguished cry began breaking the little pieces of my heart. I could hear her telling their brother Randy. She was in disbelief. She said she was on her way.
I watched the monitors until the doctor arrived at 5:38 am hoping he’d come back there were blips but no rhythm and Allan was pronounced dead.
I began the texts. Letting people know. Wishing I was wrong. Thinking no, that can’t be it!
We were supposed to grow old together. You promised in your wedding vows.
We stayed with Allan, his siblings and I until 8am. They said their goodbyes. Then it was just the love of my life and I alone. For the last time. My heart fractured. It was beating so hard my heart monitor kept going off. My heart was now physically breaking. I talked to him. I said goodbye. I cut off two small clumps of hair. One for me. One for his cousin Mikey. I walked away and let the RN know Allan could go to the morgue. I sat down in the family lounge with people. Hugging. Crying. But my heart was just so hurt. So broken. I had to leave. The room was suffocating. Looking at Zsa and seeing my husbands features in her face. I couldn’t anymore. I left to make the cremation services.
Last night was the longest night of my life. I thought it was our wedding night. Spending it apart… but no. This was worse. Darker. Harder. I could smell him. I could almost hear him. So many things I wished I’d said. Wished I’d done.
The love of my life was never coming home. And I was supposed to just lay in our bed…
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