General Discussion
Showing Original Post only (View all)My husband collapsed and died tonight. [View all]
I'm not looking for sympathy or words of wisdom. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around it. I need to tell my stepson before I let his and our friends know, so I came here where there is some annonymity.
He has been dianosed with Parkinson's Disease for ten years, and had symptoms (serious sleep disorders) for around ten years before that. This past year was difficult for him as he developed severe spinal stenosis and could no longer walk. About a month and a half ago, he had to be hospitalized with a UTI and cellulitis. He stayed in hospital for eight days, then was transferred to a skilled nursing facility for two weeks.
While he was in the nursing facility, the UTI made a come back. He was still on antibiotics when I brought him home, but finished the course in two days. He seemed better for a few days. And then started hallucinating a bit again. A visit with his PCP elicited that the UTI was still lurking, thus more antibiotics that he was still taking, but he seemed much better.
Today, my son and I were picking up an Rx for him, for whatever reason, I felt the need to prepare him for his father's eventual death. I said I thought he was getting ready to die -- not right away, but maybe a few months or a year.
So tonight, around 11:30, he was watching Stephanie Ruhl when I asked him if he was ready to go to bed. He said yes, so I rolled him back to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed to get undressed and asked me to watch the rest of Stephanie's interview with Fred Guttenberg. He seemed fine, alert.
About two minutes later, I heard my son shout. He heard a crash in the bathroom and his dad moaning. I got to my husband in about fifen seconds. He was moaning, lying on the floor in a very uncomfortable position (that has happened before).
I tried to get him up, but couldn't. My son also tried, but couldn't. I noticed that he had become unresponsive, (my son was telling him fiercely, "Don't you dare die!" ) called 911, and began chest compressions as instructed by the 911 operator. EMS and several sheriff's deputies were there within five minutes or less as I hadn't begun to tire from the chest compressions. I'm sure adrenalin helped there as I'm still feeling the effects of it two hours later.
The paramedics tried to imbue cautious optimism in me, but I knew he was gone.
He has been a part of my life for nearly 50 years. We lived together for eight years before deciding to get married and have been married for 33 years. And I don't know how I feel...