I can’t reminisce about the Kansas City Royals winning the 2015 World Series without remembering Randy.
He was only about 10 years older than me. He was a tall strong looking man. He had severe respiratory disease, and he couldn’t walk 10 feet without becoming so short of air he had to sit down. Even during conversation he couldn’t complete full sentences without stopping half way to catch his breath. Our visits always took place at the dining room table. He had a pill box that I kept filled up for him.
The Kansas City Royals were making their second trip to the World Series. They had a heart-breaking loss to the San Francisco Giants. The name of the Giant’s pitcher who beat us is banned across the region. The mere mention of his name could cause a fist fight between the closest of friends.
Randy and I managed to watch most of the series with the Astros together. We would scream and yell at the screen in unison. When the Royals were down 6-2 in the bottom of the 7th in game 4, we were in the middle of a joint visit with the social worker. We turned the game off in frustration to resume our meeting. We knew the season was over.
About 10 minutes later I pulled out my phone and checked Twitter. I’m a socially challenged rule breaker like that. I was shocked to see that the royals had the bases loaded with no outs! I stood up and crashed the meeting. I looked at the social worker and said, “I’m really sorry to end the meeting so soon, but the Royals are in the middle of an epic comeback!” The social worker laughed out loud, and we turned the TV back on. Randy and I watched as the Royals performed one of the greatest comebacks in franchise playoff history! Ultimately, we celebrated Kansas City’s second world championship in 30 years.
Over the next couple of months Randy’s health continued to decline. During one of my visits his girlfriend was out of the house.
”James, please make sure that I don’t end up on a ventilator again.”
Before Randy came on hospice he had a horrific hospitalization. He was on a ventilator for over a week. It was a miracle he ever came off the device.
“James, being on a ventilator was a traumatic experience for me. I don’t ever want to experience that again. I just want you to keep me comfortable. I want to stay right here at home for the end of my life.”
“Does Amy know this is what you want”?”
”Yes, I have told her many times, but I worry she will panic at the end.”
”Okay, I promise to help her remember when the time comes.”
It wasn’t too may weeks later that I got a message from the office to call Amy. The message said that Randy was having a hard time breathing, and Amy wanted me to go and check on him.
I walked into the house and Randy was sitting in his favorite recliner. He was leaning forward with elbows on his knees; A common position for people who struggle to breathe. He was very lethargic and was barely able to make eye contact. I called our equipment company and had a hospital bed delivered STAT. While we waited for the bed, I administered a high dose of medication to help him relax.
After the bed was setup, I helped Randy get in. Since that day I have helped do this many times. When someone looks this sick, I know they will never got out of bed under their own power again.
Randy’s girlfriend watched from across the room while all this was taking place. She was calm. She was too calm. I could tell she didn’t have full understanding of what was happening. She thought this would be temporary.
“Amy, come over here and sit down with me?”
She sat on the sofa with me. Next to us was the hospital bed with Randy in it. I put her hands in mine and looked her in the eyes.
”Amy, his lungs are failing him. He is going to die in the next few days.”
She stood up in shock!
”What? No! James, he can’t die! We need to call 911 right now!”
”Amy, hold on a second.” I said calmly. “Sit back down with me.”
She reluctantly complied.
”Randy has discussed this with you, hasn’t he?”
She paused for a minute trying to clear her thoughts.
”Yes, we talked about it.” She finally answered.
”What did he tell you was his wishes after he was on the ventilator last time?”
”He told me he never wanted to experience that again.”
”Amy, if we call 911 right now. They will come and get him and take him back to the hospital. He will end up on a ventilator again. Is that what he wants?”
”No, he doesn’t want that.”
”Okay, he has made this decision for you. He has taken this situation out of your hands. Now it is your job to make sure his wishes are honored. You have the power to grant this wish for him. Keep him here, at home, where he wants to be. Don’t let him wake up at the hospital with tubes in him. It is not what he wants.”
She felt empowered. This gave her a sense of purpose in this sad situation. She was going to lose the man she loved, but she was also going to be his guardian till the end.
This blog is very well titled because that is exactly the role you served in helping Randy stay off that ventilator. And, really, that’s the one of the main purposes of Hospice, to help people die with dignity. If I am ever in that predicament, that is what I would want.
My youngest brother died of cancer at age 49, and he chose Hospice for that very reason. He had been poked and probed and on chemo and so forth for years. First when he was in his twenties. Then the cancer went away, but only for a time, which is what cancer does. He passed at age 49, and had been in and out of hospitals for the last year or two. The last time he was in the hospital, I was there when the doctor asked him what he wanted to do next. He said at once, “Hospice.” And a few days later he died at home. With dignity. Thanks to Hospice.
As always, your input is so valuable. I have a lot of hospice nurses who visit my blog. I hope they take your input so very seriously. Thank you!
This is absolutely one of the best hospice stories! You advocated for your patient, you made Amy the hero in this story, and Randy had the death he desired. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks for reading my story and commenting!