The afternoon that Tracy was dying at first it was just Hannah and I at home. Tracy had sort of been in and out of it all day. He was sort of talking to Hannah and I, but we would ask him a question and it would take a long time for him to reply. It was like he would start to think about his answer and then lose track of what we said. We would ask if he were hungry, and he would start to answer (which I am sure would have been no he was not) then he would stop talking and stare off into space. When we would ask again he would finally answer. I was not sure he knew who we were even. When I asked if he knew where Hannah was though he would smile and say she is right here and act like I was the one who was losing it. When I asked if he knew who I was he would really smile and say " I was his beautiful wife". Just as a side note, he would say that all of the time. I do not feel like I am beautiful and Paul certainly did not think I was, but Tracy would say it several times a day and act like he meant it.
Let me digress a bit....the previous two days, I was noticing that it was harder to keep his O2 sats up on 2 liters. I raised it to 3 liters and it was holding okay, but I had to constantly check it and adjust for it. I think it was actually CO2 buildup. And possibly a new infection. Also his urine output seemed to be getting less and he was sleeping more. I would try things like more fluids, more feeding tube things, adjust meds for certain times a day to see if that would help him sleep better at night and less during the day. I would also get highly annoyed when he would use the plastic urinal and not the toilet. I did not mind that if we were in the bedroom, but not the living room. If I had known we were that close to the end he could have peed on the floor for all I would have cared. I was still deeply in denial and wanted the man back who would not dream of using a urinal period. The night before what was to be his last night he asked for me take off all of my clothes and lay next to him so he could feel my skin on his. I think he knew it was to be the last time. I think I did too.
At around 6 I had to go pick William up from a play rehearsal and Joshua up from getting stoned with friends. Hannah stayed at the house and said his O2 sats had stabalized and he was talking some. When we got home, he seemed to know who William was and asked how the rehearsal went and asked him to play a song. He was not sure who Joshua was but said that he looked like he was a really nice boy. Hannah and I were starting to get really scared at that time.
Joshua fixed dinner and Tracy had a bite or two. Then around 8 Tracy really was not talked much at all or responding anymore than a hand squeeze or a smile. He said hi to Joshua again but it was more like Hi to you boy who I have no idea why you are here. I told Joshua to call Dr. Law and Hannah to call Trevor and her mother. Joshua said that Dr. Law said we had two choices to call 911 where they would take him to the hospital and put him back on the vent or to wait it out. Dr. Law told Joshua that the night could go either way. Tracy was clear on his vent wishes. Rita and Trevor came over. Tracy looked at me, smiled and then said fuck (what would be his last word. Not exactly poetic, but Hannah, Trevor and I like it that was his last word). He grabbed me really tight and held on for awhile. I believe at that time his brain stopped functioning. After awhile he got really heavy and was not able to support a sitting position and Trevor helped me lay him down on the sofa. Everyone at that point said something to Tracy. They loved him was the basic thought. All through this time Hannah was either on the floor next to the sofa or in the bathroom throwing up. Joshua called James and Wesley. William was having a hard time deciding if he were going to be upstairs or downstairs with us but ultimately decided to be down with us. I was glad about that. He started to say something to Tracy but just ended up squeezing his shoulder. Somethings can not be put into words.
Wesley apparently called our minister who arrived at the house at about 11 45. I am quite pissed that Wesley called him and will always resent the minister for coming. He interrupted a very personal family moment. He moved Trevor out of the way who was standing behind me ( I was sitting on the sofa next to Tracy). So this minister, who I did not care for before this had his hand on my shoulder when I could have used Trevor behind me. He should not have been there, but no one knew how to tell him to leave. I am sure Wesley thought it was a good decision and I do not resent Wesley but one day I need to tell him that when he is a minister to ask if he is needed and not just show up. James called me at midnight. I gave James a play by play. James said it was very erie at the time but was glad he was with me in some way or another. I had read and some asshole doctor in the hospital said that sometimes the dying are waiting on the living to tell them that they (the survivors) will be okay. I did not tell him I would be okay because I believe Tracy would have known I was lying. . I told him that he had done a good job, that he had fought a good fight and that I loved him. All the while the minister had his hand on my shoulder and I wanted to punch him. I was still on the phone with James sometimes giving updates or sometimes he was just listening to what was being said. Tracy just basically took fewer and fewer breaths. He did not appear to be in distress. Every minute or so he would sort of gasp for air. You could see a vein on his neck really pounding. And then it stopped pounding and he took no more breaths. That was 12 05 am on March 3. It was not dramatic. Up until this point I was not crying. I was terrifyed. I was annoyed at the preacher. I was so glad that Trevor, Hannah and Rita were at the house. I was glad that Joshua (who was starting to show signs of insanity by now) and William were there. Joshua was suddenly EXTREMELY hyper. Everyone else was sullen. Joshua was offering everyone a cigarette. (but telling them they had to smoke outside as I did not allow smoking inside). Trevor and Hannah took him up on the offer and the three of them went outside.
Rita made the call to the funeral home. The rest of us (including the preacher whom I at this point hate) stayed at Tracy's side. Tracy was not a religious man - he was more spiritual or actually too lazy to go to church on Sunday morning :), so even he would not have wanted the preacher there. I was just holding Tracy's hand now sort of paralyzed.
I was holding it together more or less until the funeral home director home came. He came inside introduced himself like we would be expecting anyone else at 12 30 in the morning. Then he made small talk which I found highly annoying. Who cared about the weather? My husband was dead on the sofa. Then his wife came in with the stretcher and a bag that zipped up. That was it for me. I called James back and went outside and was hysterical. I had a hearse in my driveway. My husband was about to be zipped up in a bag and taken to some cold room. My life would never be the same. James was crying on the phone as well saying it was not fair and that he was so sorry. I ended up in the garage because I knew that I could not take watching them put Tracy in the hearse. At this point I was crying/screaming on the phone to James to make this stop. To not let this be happening. James was crying also. I just wanted everyone (especially the preacher) to leave. Wesley arrived from Binghamton around this time. I stayed in the garage until the hearse pulled out which took forever. Apparently the funeral director waited inside for awhile for me to sign some papers. No one knew where I was so he had to go home. I did not know that and was glad that I did not go back in and sign anything. How bizarre are the rules. I doubt at that point I could have written my name. I eventually went back in and tried to find a room that I could be alone. No room was safe, not even the bathroom because Hannah kept needing to throw up. By 3 am everyone besides Wesley, William and Joshua had left.
Tracy and I both have our own laptops. I have been pouring over his computer and came across a picture that he had taken of himself dated 12/1/08 and a letter to me. The letter was incredibly sweet and oh so very sad. I am sure his intention was to not send me into a deep depression that I am not sure how I will get out of, but that is what has happened. In the picture he looks very sad and very sick. But I like it better than the ones when he was younger. In the picture you can see that he was tired. That he had given up. In the letter he said he did not want to die, he did not want to leave me, but that was what was happening. I still though can not stop thinking of what i should have done differently. Not only this past year, but the last few hours.
This day has been horrible. The whole weekend actually. Joshua is threatening to quit school because he can not get caught up and I am in no shape to help either emotionally and certainly not with chemistry. William is holding our family together and what a mess he will be in a few years. How does life get so messed up? My body actually is hurting right now. My skin hurts. It hurts where my clothes hit or the part that touches the bed or furniture. My legs feel so heavy it hurts to walk. Not to mention that my heart aches (and I have palpitations that border on panic attacks). Grief is painful in more ways than one. Every day is worse than one before.
I miss you honey.
