We find ourselves with the power to decide when and how Dad dies. The doctors and nurses insistently press their opinion that Dad should be given comfort care (their term for hastening his death by withdrawing his life support) because he does not have a chance. It has been a week since Dad’s last definite sign of cognition – he squeezed my hand tightly and held it for so long that I eventually pulled away. But that was last week and a week is an awfully long time in the ICU. He has been without drip sedation for more than five days and shows no sign of awareness. It is not a good sign.
The irony is that some of Dad’s numbers are looking up. He has not had a problem oxygenating for over a week. His breathing is doing so well that RT believes that Dad could come off the vent if he would wake up enough. His blood pressure has also stabalized. He is almost off of the vaso pressors which are supporting his blood pressure. His kidneys are the bad news. They appear to be shutting down. Dad, who always hated how much he had to pee, doesn’t produce enough urine anymore.
Thats the way it has gone. When I got to the hospital for this go-around we were watching his respirtation – overbreathing the vent and o2 saturation. Then it was his blood pressure and the titration on the vaso pressors. Now its urine output. This number is 15 cc / hour. 30 cc / hour is the minimum. Dad would call this a piss poor performance.
We can choose the way Dad dies but we cannot choose that he live. Another day with Dad, another telephone conversation, another whiskery kiss is the only choice that any of us would make. The burden of decision weighs heavily on me. To authorize the hastening of his death seems a mean thing to ask of one who loves Dad so much.
