Day 40

A year ago tonight (actually the exact date was Nov 19th) I spent what at the time was the single worst day and night of my life. It started out like most of the days had at the time. I woke up around 7 and mom and I would drive to the hospital where we would spend the day with dad. Only this day, a Friday, was the day we would be taking Dad home for a week, as his chemotherapy treatments were over for that session of time. We waited around most of the day through the several vital sign checks, his radiation appointments, and finally his last checkup and meeting with the doctor before he was cleared to go.

We had a moment of levity that day. Another classic case of my father keeping his sense of humor through it all. One of the nurses aides was named Ebony. Lets just say she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Ebony's one job was to come in and check Dad's blood pressure. She came in three times everyday, and that day, she came in in the morning with a machine that didn't work. So she came back in with another one that worked. The second time she came in, she again brought in the faulty machine that didn't work. My dad couldn't stand her stupidity as he hated having his arm wrapped so tightly for no reason. She was so stupid that during dad's first week in the hospital, he was watching the Red Sox/Yankees playoff game and she said "who are you rooting for" and my dad said, neither, he was just watching. She then said "Is Boston in New York?" My Dad said, "Boston is playing New York." Ebony replied, "No, is Boston IN New York" and my dad was baffled. He said, No Ebony, Boston is in Massachusetts." True story. But I digress. A third time that day Ebony came in and had the wrong machine. I said "Ebony, you know you have the wrong machine again." She said "oh my goodness, I'm so sorry" and left. As she turned around, Dad - a tired, beaten man who couldn't speak - sat right up and gave her the old one finger salute! He flipped her the bird. Mom and I laughed hysterically.

So we were cleared to leave and go home around 2PM. Dad was very weak and cold. The chemo had made him vomit quite a bit. Driving home in the car, he began to throw up some more. By the time we got home, he had thrown up so much that his feeding tube came out. This was a serious problem because it was essentially fed through his nose. So we had to go back to the emergency room to get it put back in. I told my mom to stay home, I would take him, and we would be back soon. So we went all the way back downtown to the ER, we arrived at 4PM. I dropped him off and ran in. When we got there, the place was absolutely packed. With my Dad being a cancer patient, you would think he would recieve special attention. None, and this is "the great Cleveland Clinic." We sat in the general population area for an hour. He was completely susceptible to infection and I begged for him to be placed in a separate room, and finally they put us in some back room with just one other family. This other man was writhing in pain and moaning loudly. Dad and I were freaking out having to listen to this poor man in pain. He was also suffering from some sort of cancer. Finally, after 2 and a half hours of waiting, they took us into the ER and gave us a room with no TV. We sat in the room for another hour. I paced up and down and begged for someone to put the tube in so we could get out of there and go home, but nobody came. Finally someone came in. She attempted to put the tube back through his nose. It was seriously the worst thing I've EVER seen. As she was doing this, it was though I was watching my Father choking to death. He was struggling to breath. This doctor couldn't do it correctly for some reason. So she tried again. This time, she had put it in, but before we left, they had to take an X-ray to make sure it was out in the correct spot. So we waited another hour and they took the X-ray. The results came back 25 minutes later, the tube was but in incorrectly. This woman had out the tube into his lung. The whole time he kept trying to tell me something was wrong but he couldn't speak. He was struggling to breath. So I now called my Mom to tell her what is going on and she was furious. She said to get to the head doctor of the ER and get this done and call her back after it was done. I got to this guy, Lane Smith - i'll never forget him. I told him the situation and basically demanded that he do this correctly or there would be hell to pay. I told him I did not appreciate watching my Father choke to death while some moron put in his tube incorrectly not once, but TWICE. He told me that I needed to watch my tone with him and that he "could get a monkey to put the tube in correctly." I was so insulted. I yelled at him "you do this now. If it is so easy that a monkey could do it, than why did this idiot before you do it wrong?" So he was going to put the tube in himself. After another 30 minutes, he put the tube in. This time I couldn't watch. So the tube was now in and we had to wait for another X-ray. It came back again - IN HIS LUNG! It is now 9PM. We have been there for 5 hours and nothing has been solved.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I called my mom and she headed straight to the Clinic. She came in and immediately began in on the doctors. The head Doctor was a woman. We told her the whole story of what had happened thought the last 5 hours and it was on her to fix this immediately before we really were going to pull rank. She was completely snippy back to my mother. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The woman told us she was going to have to get an EMT paramedic to come in and do this properly, but they didn't know when this was going to be happening. So we waited in a different room. This time with a TV. We had the Pistons/Pacers game on. My brother was courtside. Little did we know what was going to happen there a few minutes later. Finally around 10:45, an EMT came in and put the tube in correctly in about 10 seconds without completely choking my Dad out. They took the X-Ray after sitting around for another 30 minutes. This time, it was in correctly and we could leave.

My poor Father. We arrived at 4PM and didn't leave until midnight. He was so drained. He had nothing left. We drove home and he slept most of the way. When we got home, we had learned of what happened in Detroit and that MD was right in the middle of it. As we sat and watched all of the postgame coverage in the family room, dad got violently ill again and threw up his feeding tube once again. Mom and I decided that there was no way we could go back there that night and that in the morning, he was going to have to be re-admitted. He was too sick to be home. That was the single worst day of my life. Having to watch my father in such pain and suffering is an image that I can never get out of my head. I had nightmares about it for weeks. I still do occasionally. Little did I know that the worst was not even yet to come.