Wednesday, March 14, 2012

David Lee Jongeling Nov 12, 1951 - Nov 27, 2011



I let go of this blog at the beginning of January 2009. It is now March 2012. I'm back to tell you about the last 3 years of my Dads life.

February 2009, my Dad had been living with me since he got out of the hospital. He was doing really well keeping up with projects around our house. Richards family gets together annually in Park City for skiing and it was time for us to leave Dad for the first time. I wasn't really worried about it. He had a list of chores to do and the animals to care for. However, the first evening away, I called him from the airport and I could tell he had already had a drink. It was heartbreaking. Without going into all the details, we supported him through several relapses until finally we had to ask him to leave. We just couldn't have him around our children in that condition. We moved him to an RV park in Bastrop. He didn't do well by himself and on Fathers day weekend of 2009 I asked him if I could look into Salvation Army rehab for him. He agreed to go!
He was in the Salvation Army program for the full 6 months. He did very well there. He helped run the front desk and made some sober friends. He moved back into his house after rehab and unfortunately he relapsed that very week. I believe it was his very first night home. He said to us that he slipped and was going to get back on the wagon and he went ahead with his plan to have other members of Salvation Army rent rooms from him. This was his attempt at a "sober living" house. However, I don't think he ever got sober again. That was all of 2009.
In 2010 and 2011 he was distant about the details of his house situation. He stopped denying it when we asked if he was drinking and eventually we quit asking. I asked him about every 6 months if he wanted my help finding a different way of life (rehab again, new house, etc.) He always said he would think about it and let me know. What can a family do but show love and pray for him? We never really went to his house but he would show up to all the family functions. He called us all, his friends and family, regularly. I had some really wonderful talks with him over the phone. I would say we all had the best relationship we could with him these last few years.
November 17th 2011 he called my sister from the emergency room and said he had fallen and broken his hip. When I got to the hospital I warned the doctors of his poor health and alcoholism. They monitored a medical detox for several days. This was very painful to watch because Dad became extremely confused mentally and pumping his body with fluids, minerals and vitamins was actually a shock to his system. However, since we had been through this before, it was a little easier to watch this time. After detox, they monitored him for many days, waiting for his body to be strong enough to handle surgery. We all knew this surgery would be extremely hard on him but our bigger concern was the recovery process it takes after hip replacement.
My brother and Grandma (Dad's Mom) came into town on November 22nd. It was Thanksgiving week so my Uncle Ken and his family all came into town to wait together for surgery time and to visit with Dad. It was great that he got to see everyone before passing away.
He finally went into surgery on November 23rd. He went to Cardiac ICU after surgery because his blood pressure and oxygen levels were very low. They told us he could be out of ICU by the following morning and that sometimes it just takes the body awhile to regulate after major surgery. The following day the doctors called with a list of new problems. Retaining too much fluid in his body, possible embolism in the lung, lung infection (could be pneumonia). He was somewhat alert and able to visit on the 24th. But with every visit he was looking weaker instead of stronger. I had expressed his desire to not ever be kept alive by machines. I had power of medical attorney since the 2009 hospital stay. Because of his past health problems, I had talked with dad extensively about his medical wishes. The doctors assured me that all that was being done at that point was helping him stay strong and not actually keeping him alive.
By November 27th, he was still in Cardiac ICU and not getting any stronger. Some good family friends of ours, that are in the medical profession, asked us if we were still sure that the hospital was helping or keeping him alive? I went to the hospital and asked the head nurse that had been with him for several days, what his opinion was. He sullenly said he thought it was keeping him alive. He said if I wanted to, we could turn down the oxygen level machine and see how long it takes for his body to fall to a lower number. When we did this, his oxygen level dropped immediately. He said that was a strong sign to confirm his opinion. My Grandma, sister and brother came up to the hospital right away. We had a hospital chaplain go in and ask him if he understood his medical situation and what he wanted to do. We didn't want to be in the room with him when asked this because we knew he would look at us and not be honest if what he wanted to do was to let go. And sure enough, that is what he wanted. It was very certain, and we were right out side the door to witness this.  When we walked back into the room, Jeff walked over to him and Dad reached out his hand, took Jeff in close to him, looked right into his eyes and said "I'm done."  From that moment Jeff knew what needed to be done.
I know there will be more difficult moments in my life, but this thus far has been my worst moment. I had to tell the nurse our decision to turn the machines off. We (Grandma, Rachelle, Jeff and I) stood around Dads bed with him and I asked if he had anything to say. He said "You all are good kids. You will do good." I think he also said, if you want to have more kids, have more kids. But I'm not sure as his breathing heavy made it very hard to understand him. We all knew for certain that he knew what was happening. We called the chaplain in again and we held a circle of hands and said a prayer. We turned the machines off.
I asked the head nurse how long we should expect the wait. He said from several hours to a couple of days. I'm told the morphine going in feels cold and a little painful.  Dad started moving around, reaching for blankets, our hands, to get up?  I'm not sure what he wanted.  Jeff and I were on the same side of the bed, I was up closer to his head.  We each held one of his hands.  I really didn't know what to do, so I just started talking.... I told him it was all going to be painless soon, I told him to imagine sitting by Lake Poinsett watching the sunset.  Then I described our backyard while growing up.  I described him sitting on the patio at sunset watching us kids play in the pool.  He calmed down after a few moments.  Rachelle and I left the room because our friends had come to support us in the waiting room. My Uncle Dick had just arrived. We had left Grandma and Jeff in the room with Dad and told Dick to go see Dad. He was back in the waiting room moments later to tell us my Dad had already passed away. It had only been about 45 minutes.
My Dad knew there was a better place waiting for him. He had been near death in his twenties and remembered a bright white peaceful light and no pain. I know that is what met him again this time. Rest in Peace my Father. You were deeply loved. You will be missed by all who knew you. I still think my phone should ring and I will get to tell you all the details of my crazy life. I loved running things by you and always having your verbal support in my decisions. I know you are watching us now and smiling because you raised some really great kids!