What's scorching your groove today?

[jimhelm]

Originally Posted by jimhelm

Uncle Biff has stage 4 fucking lung cancer.

Shit.

I flew to Charlotte Sunday morning. Dad picked me up at the airport. We went and had breakfast at Waffle house, then on to Biff's house. Dad told me in the car that it was good that I came now, because Biff had taken a turn for the worse after the Chemo.

When we got there, Biff was sitting out on the screen porch, leaning on some pillows. Shaved head, haggard face, distracted demeanor. He was in there, but barely. Everyone was telling me that he was SO much better than he had been recently. He knew me, and we talked some... even did some pottery together. It was good.

Then, after a couple hours, he started nodding off, and saying incoherent things like someone talking in their sleep would do. We left in the afternoon, and would be back this morning to hang with him while his wife Linda got back to work. Calls this morning told us that he had had a really rough night. He was ornery, and abusive, and generally combative. He was up when we got there, though. Linda had decided to skip work again, and there was a doctors appointment scheduled for 3pm to see about having him admitted. He was too much for Linda to handle.

He had a nap for a bit but by 2pm he was trying to lock himself in the bathroom. He had fallen down in there overnight, so Linda was not having it. He, however, was not having any of her mothering. He got so worked up screaming and yelling. He'd had 3 heart attack episodes over the last 5 years.... cancer not only in his lungs, but liver and brain too. Linda stepped away and asked me to get him to sit down on the bathroom chair. As she left, he shut the door on me.... so I stood there liike an ass until I heard him fall down. ...45 seconds maybe... Then i busted in, and he was on his back like a turtle. I sat him up, straightened his legs out, and tried to get him up. he was breathing inconsistently... like sleep apnia. no breath, then a snore and a deep breath....

I tried once to lift his limp ass into the chair, but couldnt manage it. My dad went to call 911. now, there's no breathing. fuck. get the chair out. lie him down on the cold goddamn tile floor, and put his shaved head on a towel. his cold yellow head. Started compressions. blew a breath into him. it gurgled out like he was full of phlegm. more compressions.... next breath goes iin but does not come back out,. swept his mouth, and got his false teeth out from under his tongue, sat him up, and he breathed out. then he breathed in!

he has a fast pulse in his neck. then the breath stops again. back onto his back, and more compressions. fast hard shallow shoves on his chest. my arms got too tired, so I had Carrie, his daughter, who was on the phone with 911 spell me for a minute. Now i hear the sirens, and I take over compressions again. a couple more breaths and a million more compressions over the 2 minutes it takes the EMT to get to him ( they really did get there quickly)


So I get the hell out of their way. go into the kitchen and I'm sweating and panting, and sobbing ... after I can breathe, I start clearing a path for the stretcher to get in. I'm pretty sure he's gone.

But then, Carrie says he asked for his teeth. So... I dunno.. .maybe he'll make it. After they cart him out, and are cleaning up, the EMT boss guy says probably not. They got no pulse, and it didn't look good.

We got to the hospital just in time to be there when the Doctor, a grief counselor and a Chaplain? came out together to give us the bad news.

Biff is gone. Linda is hysterical.... crying laughing, and all stops in between by turns. denying that it's true, then accepting it, then denying it again.

My dad is relieved that Biff went quickly instead of slowly (I'm with him).

I'm .... I don't know. I cant believe he died like that. right there. right then. SO glad I came down here and had Sunday morning to see him alert, if only for an hour or two.

See ya, Biff, you dead prick. I'll miss you.