2107

Before reading this please read the blog post "Flight for life"

What happened next changed the entire universe on a molecular level. Rearranged everything I thought I knew, ripping the foundation out, and shattered my heart beyond recognition. While I have shared this story more times than I can count verbally, I have never spelled it out with words. In the immediate aftermath I had to fight like hell to survive, think primal survival. It was unbearable. It wasn’t until sometime later that I was able to take away the things that I cannot explain from this experience and delve into the deeper meaning of some of it. I am not asking you to believe what I have come to know, but this is my truth and my story, none of it requires the approval of others. I’m stalling partly because revisiting this has never been and will never be easy. However now that I have begun, I also know that the tight knot in my throat will not subside until it is allowed to saturate itself through these sentences.

---------------------

They fell silent when they realized who I was, and I fell to my knees.

I held onto the hands of a stranger; I can still feel the blue latex gloves we were wearing. He was coding. If you have ever prayed – and I mean truly deeply prayed with everything inside of you – so hard that against my will I had fallen to my knees as I pleaded with God to let me keep him.

“Oh God Oh God please please don’t take him. Let us keep him. Oh God no. I will do anything if you let him live. My God Oh God please. Anyone but him. Don’t take him.”

The next part I cannot take credit for, it was not me and I cannot explain it any better. This is the only out of body experience I have ever had. Before I continue, I need to make it clear that I understand that during traumatic events people sometimes recall it from a 3rd person perspective. That is not what happened.

As I begged to keep him a warmth covered me like a cloak from behind and I heard “Get them off of him. Give him comfort.” It got louder. A calm came over me and the words coming out of my mouth changed without my conscious attempts. The words felt oddly shaped as if my mouth was spilling them without my brain’s intent to … calmly and softly “Get off of him. Give him comfort.”

I can still see myself getting up from the floor and I watched the following unfold from outside of my body.

“Do they have a pulse?” I asked in a monotoned voice.

“No”

Turning towards my mother I said to her “Mom. I don’t think Dad is coming home with us, okay?”

She shook her head. I paced the floor a few times.

“Pulse check. Does he have a pulse.” I calmly asked for a second time.

“No”

I halfway bent over placing my hands on my knees… “Fuck. Holy Fuck” I whispered.

Turning to my mother again “Mom. If I tell them to stop, he won’t come home with us. Do you understand he will no longer be here with us?”

She starred at me as if I wasn’t speaking English and shook her head yes.

A few moments passed and for the 3rd and final time I asked if they had got a pulse back….

“No. Nothing.”

“I need you to ask the doctor. Go in the room and directly ask the doctor.”

They did. Still no pulse.

I walked up to my mother, looked her in the face and clearly and slowly articulated the following...

“Mom. I am going to stop CPR, If I do that, Dad will be gone. He will no longer be alive. Do you understand that? Do you understand this will mean he is dead? I need you to tell me now if you do not want me to stop the CPR.”

She looked so scared. With her hand over her mouth, she nodded her head yes.

A nurse I worked with for many years brought me a chair, she told me to sit down, and I declined the offer.

“Fuck. Holy Fuck. Holy Fuck.” As I paced in front of the nurse’s station outside of his room.

I took a deep breath. “Stop CPR”

The room started spinning as several people asked me again to sit down. I looked over at myself, I was pale white. They guided me to a seating position in the chair next to my mother.

The doctor came out of the room a few minutes later. I had worked with him many times as well and his natural reaction was to talk to me as a nurse. “I don’t know what happened. We had him on the heparin drip, so I don’t think it was a clot. We were packing him up for the flight and he braded down and we lost the pulse. We never got any electrical activity back after his heart stopped, it could have been a massive MI or hemorrhagic stroke...”

“I need you to say it.”

He didn’t comprehend what I was saying and again started talking shop.

“No. Doctor. I need you to say the words we need to hear so that we can process this later.”

I said as I glanced towards my mother.

The doctor understood. He stood up straight and stated...

“Despite our best efforts, unfortunately, Mr. ****** ‘s heart stopped, and we were unable to restart it. Mr. ****** was pronounced dead at 9:07 p.m. I am so sorry.”

All of the air felt like it was being sucked out of my lungs as those words echoed through me. I was back in my body.

🤍

This is the hardest thing I have ever done, but it was my honor and if given the chance I would do it again. It wasn't about me. It was about him. It took many years and a lot of work to not hate myself and feel responsible for his death. I now know and accept that I could not have changed the outcome. His love will always carry me through. He didn't have to be my Dad. He didn't have to be my person. He chose to be.... for that I am the luckiest girl in the world.

I love you. Be good.