A week since dad started dying...

Exactly a week ago, it was clear that my dad was dying and unconscious even to know what was happening. The day shift SICU doctors at Sakra counselled us that his right lung was irreparable and he was too weak to be given any further treatments. And we were right in not going ahead with the ventilator. His lungs were filled with 90% CO2 and also some air around his accessory muscles around his collarbone. The fix to remove the air involved making a hole in his right side and such procedures would only cause him more pain and weakness. So it was time to give him the final stage of palliative care i.e. morphine to enable to him to die painlessly. Sister and I were inconsolable but we agreed in verbatim and also in writing. We were also told to give a heads-up to his friends and out-station relatives that he was dying and they could come to pay their last respects. I started with his brother, I suppose or Raghu. As and when I made the calls, the script became better and my feelings got under control.

The doctors asked us to wait near him and the fentanyl injection was administered to him in IV slowly. We knew that he was finally dying and painlessly. We spent couple of hours in grief, took a lunch break, returned and waited with him until sunset. Mom called us to come home and we left our dad to die painlessly and alone. The next morning, 25th May, Saturday, while I was getting ready to go to the hospital, I got the call that he died couple of minutes ago. I can recall how I froze. I still went ahead and made breakfast for myself and rushed with BIL and dad's younger brother. When I saw dad dead, he was freshly bathed, plastered with bandage around his head and chin to keep his mouth from opening more, cotton balls in his nose and stuffed in his mouth. His one eye was open and one eye was closed, totally lifeless. It did look like he was sleeping but his skeletal appearance was more obvious. The hospital staff were kind and gentle. I went to the mortuary with BIL and uncle and saw my dad gift-wrapped in bandage and a dark blue plastic cover. The bandage was put like a flap on his face. I lost it when the nurse did her duty to ask us to identify the body before she put him in the mortuary freezer number 8. What a number. She asked me to step out but it was enough to make me realize how it must be to be dead. While dad was waiting in the freezer in the mortuary to be taken home, we waited for the insurance procedure to come through. After a wait of 5 hours, I got into the ambulance with my dad gift-wrapped in bandage and a dark blue plastic cover. I have a picture of him in that and also a video of him suffering to breathe. Morbid but I think it is to remind me that he is actually dead. Uncle and aunt took photos of his dead body so insensitively and shared with all on whatsapp. My morbid instinct stopped just before that. I couldn't bear to see his mouth stuffed with cotton and temples sunken around his ears. His beloved older sister arrived before we reached and she took the intiative to cover him in a new dhoti and silk veshti around his face. She arranged the garland and put the green leaves to cover the cotton stuffed in his mouth. I definitely felt that I was not looking at my dad. It was his relic. The lung fibrosis had leeched him from inside, despite the expensive steroid and oxygen therapy.

Until we got him admitted, we were unaware of such developments in his body. Not our fault. He was too weak to be taken to the hospital and so, we chose to treat him for his lung infection at home with our family physician's help. If things went downhill (which all of us feared that would lead to his death eventually), we wanted him to be at home amidst his family members. Mom especially would not have been there to spend time with him in the last few weeks, if we had gotten him admitted. The family physician did suggest that we take him to the hospital for PEG surgery to get him to eat, after he recovers from the infection. The entire family was not for PEG surgery but he had me convinced to give it a try - because nobody should die of starvation. Dad had already starved because of lack of appetite and inability to swallow, the curse of lung fibrosis, causing severe decline in the weight and thereby, energy and immunity. The Ryles tube kept him fed enough to take the antibiotics. 

But the lungs just gave away on the fateful evening of 23rd May 2024. I had given him 2 teaspoons of water few hours before that afternoon because he was breathing with his mouth more and more open with the days passing by and lips getting dried up. He coughed so bad that my heart broke and intuitively, I felt that it could be the last few sips. At 4.30 p.m. or so, the Ryles tube was out of his mouth supposedly and the nurse pointed it out. I called the doctor and he arranged for Anitha to visit. I tried to ask this nurse to put the new Ryles tube and was checking the items required to be ordered. He heard our conversation and said - Anitha... Expert.... Saying these two words itself took a lot of energy but I sensed he was listening keenly and I consoled him that I will check and follow up with Anitha. I decided to resume work meanwhile because work was suffering in the middle of all this. 

Close to 6 p.m., my sister observed that he had removed the nasal cannula out of his nose and lying there with labored breathing. She called out for me and I also panicked. Over the past few months, if the nasal cannula wasn't there or if the O2 concentrator was acting weird, the poor man PANICKED, for the fear of dying. And here, he had removed it on his own and was unaware of his actions. When we asked him what he was doing, his response was that it was very noisy and none of us liked it. And why were we panicking. That was sufficient to make me search for Sakra ambulance. I was caught in a dilemma to wait to ask Anitha to come and confirm to hospitalize or go ahead and make the call. During the dilemma, he showed more restlessness to remove the cannula, even the new mask-like cannula and the nurse Jyoti had increased the O2 levels to almost 6L. She tried to tell me that it was to help him breathe better in the new mask cannula, I doubt it if she was right. Things were happening so fast and his SPO2 was not crossing 90. Giving more oxygen is also a danger without the pulmonologist's guidance. Which meant getting him admitted. So I dialed the ambulance and it reached in 30 mins. Meanwhile, he spoke his last few lines to my sister and mom, while I was preparing for the hospital visit. He was supposedly coherent. In the ambulance, he asked me the time - I said 7.45 p.m. Things spiraled faster after that. He lost consciousness and opened his eyes feebly when I called out to him. Touching him did not give any response. I realized I was losing him. Emotions crept up and the duty doctors tried BIPAP. He was not conscious enough to mimick the BIPAP breathing and next was ventilator option. I said no, BIL said no. The doctors arranged for x-ray and CT scan and we waited and waited. I broke down completely and BIL held me in his arms. After sometime, they got him admitted in SICU and put him on drips. The SICU night shift doctors told us for the first time that his right lung was irreparable and he was too weak to be given any further treatments. And we were right in not going ahead with the ventilator. His lungs were filled with 90% CO2 and also some air around his accessory muscles around his collarbone. The fix to remove the air involved making a hole in his right side and such procedures would only cause him more pain and weakness. There was some convincing done to try to give vasopressors to increase his BP - I agreed reluctantly. We drove back home in BIL's car at 1 a.m. 

I had warned my husband to come with our daughter the next day without fail to meet him one last time (at home because that was my instinct again) and he finally reached the hospital around the time we reached the hospital from here. My husband's face was ashened when he understood those long conversations with me describing dad's suffering and his skeletal appearance. Sam did not get to see my dad in the SICU, good in a way. She did not get to see him suffer since May 12 because I had kept her away in Vijaya nagar and she wanted to complete her swimming camp. She also felt that she was not looking at my dad when we brought him home and put him on the freezer. Ironically, I got the news from my mom's youngest sister that my mom's oldest sister died that afternoon on May 25th when I was on my way home with my dead gift-wrapped dad in the ambulance. So, most of my mom's siblings are yet to visit and pay their last respect to my dad and condolences to mom. Out of dad's siblings, two came - the oldest sister with her grandson in his car, thanks to her husband allowing her to get out of the house for those hours from Chennai. And the younger brother, for the sake of rituals aka patriarchy. If he had not come, my BIL would have done those rituals. And now he has to do it anyway for the 11th day.

A month later and I have lost a parent...

 Dad died on May 25, 2024 at 9.28 am. Need some more time to recount the whole experience.

Mid 2024 musings

 I am blogging after a very long time. 

Post-pandemic, one day, during a fight in the new rented apartment, my husband told me that he was shocked when he read my earlier blog post which mentioned that I wanted his parents dead in the next 5 years. He had this violated feeling simmering in him for a long time and never brought it up, until that fight. 

I knew that the blog post was my personal rant and of course immature. I did not defend that blog post but I did try to explain that those feelings reduced and it is more of neutrality. Nothing convinced him and I realized it is not easy to digest such violating thoughts from a spouse. I left it at that and the awkwardness still continues between us.

After many years, I re-ventured to open the blog and I read all my posts. The post that shocked him was actually ending on a practical note - How can I determine someone's death when my own parents are also weak and I do not know my expiry date? He of course used it for his point of view that I dislike his parents. 

However, what happened after that is I got scared of writing my thoughts. I tried writing in a paper but somehow the feeling that my raw inner most feelings have been considered "too much".

On a different note, I was looking back at our 13 years of marriage few days ago. It is now a sexless marriage, like so many couples I read about. If there is no emotional intimacy, from where will physical intimacy show up as sex. 

When we recently spoke about his father's dementia progressing, it felt like a tight slap on my face when I realized that my husband hadn't verbalized his father's symptoms as dementia - diagnosed before our marriage itself. He kept referring to a few incidents like this - it was showing up here and there. (Example: I remember the toilet not being flushed when I went in the wee hours twice before the house was renovated. Him eating without waiting for others was also not considered out of the blue.) Then the husband tells me during the same conversation - now do you recall why I was very quiet when I dropped you at BEML gate that evening after our coffee date because I could not contact my parents and confirm if they had reached Mysore. That was the tight slap. It was right in front of my eyes and I chose not to see it. This man I married had agreed to marry only because I agreed to stay with his parents after marriage. He got that confirmation very seriously and I only saw the "general" reasons. Over the years, I saw his extra dedication towards his mom and dad - like the mythological story "Shravan". Lucky parents. On the other hand, this guarantees the fact that he visits us at the apartment and won't pay the rent or pay for the provisions (unless I ask to share supposedly). It is convenient for him to use my pathetic communication skills during the pandemic when I started readying the apartment without waiting for him - because I was very uncomfortable and guilty and ashamed to ask him. I was financially irresponsible and spent a chunk of the layoff settlement Oracle gave me to invest in the house. Thank God. He had once blurted in anger - how can you ask me to leave my parents behind? So, when I started setting up the house, he felt pushed back and then decided to "visit". On the flip side, it worked for his benefit in ALL possible ways. Except for the fact that I had to take his daughter with me - he already has to take care of two other senior children of his.

I was SO ANGRY during the pandemic and the early years of our apartment move. The child bore a lot of the brunt. My role continues to be full-time remote, thanks to the kind manager. So in a way, socializing stopped. I stopped myself from talking to neighbors unless absolutely necessary. "Why is your husband not staying here?" "Why did you move here from Vijaya nagar, only for work?"

Shopping therapy continued. I have a lovely collection of beautiful silk saris and cottons. And a new love to travel has also sprung. Again, child bore the brunt of my temper - caused due to the underlying disappointment that my husband won't share my daughter's share of the travel expense or take us to so many places. I did not ask him again pointedly. It is a different story if he would have given. The recent Poothali Kerala trip money settlement conversation proved it. "Lene ke dene pad gaye", he said, at the end of the conversation - wherein I had to pay for my money that he withdrew as cash before the trip but I had to pay him supposedly. But he owed me 750. Which he asked me to deduct and pay him 4250/-. I did ask him to include the 540 rupees for the dhotis he picked up for the old fathers.

Now life has somewhat plateau'ed. Dad got diagnosed with a terminal illness called pulmonary fibrosis in Nov 2023 and uses a oxygen concentrator to breathe. Sister moved near to their house post-pandemic. She faced major disappointments from all of us during her new motherhood phase. She tried to use me as her foster mom but I became super-aware of her moves, especially the calculations she uses and manipulations. I cannot be her foster mom - and neither can I be always available for my parents. I have experienced first-hand partiality and lesser preference over her - considering she shined better in studies and made dad's dream of CA come true. And I have tortured my parents with my callous, reckless attitude during my late teens with studies and choice of men in my 20s. God's grace - NetApp took me in - I screwed up there also. Then Oracle - screwed up there also - looking back, it became even for the treatment from Kumar - his choice of giving me pathetic pay and work expectations. Eventually, CHR and Oracle saved me and helped me float during my mom's cancer treatment, reckless shopping and very young child-care. Cisco has been my life-saver in so many ways, I can't fathom. Living in a rented apartment, juggling a job and child-care, buying groceries and running a kitchen, finding my spiritual space and faith, enjoying solitude - rather than complain of loneliness, identifying grey areas in people and myself, and learning how I have become an ambivert, I have come a long way and there is a long way to go ahead, I know.

I got to notice dad's symptoms up-close and did my homework and found the right doctor. Cisco colleague guided me to the right doctor, I must add. He is on the right treatment and suffering the medicine's side-effects. He has lost a ton of weight and is having no stamina, at this point, for a minimal social life. I pity him and I dread old age where we become so irrelevant. My husband's mom is still relevant, thanks to her luck, genes and the worshipping from her son. He won't break her heart anytime, already broke it big time by marrying me. When she was feeling bad about yet to visit Kashi, I knew instinctively that he must have offered to take her, at the right time. He said he promised so, when I inquired casually later. I did not offer to join. I instead replied that I couldn't take my dad to Kashi. Can I take dad in the future, God knows. Do I want to, is another thing.

My parents and I had a bad fight on Apr 15, 2024, for a tawa exchange apparently. Mom and sister nicely put a scratch on the tawa and I did not check that before entering the shop and getting embarrassed. Mom's obsession over the right size of idiyappam thread - I have to buy another idiyappam maker. I got so irate on her obsession - she insults me that I do not know anything despite being 40. Well, that was it. Over the past few months, I felt over-used by them and I felt let-down when I asked my sister for help in going to the shop with the tawa from 11th cross. And she just did not turn up. The way she dragged me for every doctor consultation during dad's hospital admission in Dec 2023 - though I was recovering from my bum surgery, is no joke as to how she manipulates. 

I did take her husband's help in getting chauffeur'ed to the airport bus, when Jitendra had to run home to arrange bedsheets for the sudden guests from Mysore. And the poor man had to hide the Lucknow trip from his parents, how irresponsible of me. Especially to go right after back to back hospital admissions and the great Sankranti festival. I paid for the trip, I chose the dates and had given a heads-up in Oct 2023. I fell sick in Dec 2023 because of the pus filled cyst becoming an abscess, got admitted and recovered with his limited help during the admission - not that he would not have done more. I took the home care nurse option and paid a lot but they were God-send. I went to the follow-up consultations on my own because he is with his parents 25 kms away. And based on the doctor's confirmation, I went ahead with the trip, causing no disturbances to anyone. But no, I did the wrong thing supposedly. I "informed" him about the trip, not act like a spouse but a room-mate. I don't think so but I won't argue with him anymore. I was ready to lose all the money spent on booking the trip, if it had come to no-go situation. I agree that he was unhappy about me being stubborn in going ahead but what does he know of my plight of no company and traveling with strangers. (Still, I am thankful for these options nowadays.) He is lucky to have college friends who take him for trips and make him have fun and see places at the same time. Bandar kya jaane adrak ka swaad. The same trip with strangers is how I got to travel to Bhutan with Sam and get her to tick her long-time wish to travel outside India. God's grace.