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[personal profile] jpinsd

It's been 13 years since my mom died.

I wasn't really thinking about it this year, but I guess my subconscious was; I dreamt about her this morning. In the dream she was still alive, and we were making plans to have dinner. She and my dad left to go do something, and it suddenly struck me that she shouldn't have been there because she had died. I started asking my friends if they has seen her, or was I just going crazy. My friends were consoling me, and I started crying because I was grateful for their concern, and also sad at my loss.

I woke up crying.

Thirteen years ago, my parents were going to visit my brother and his family in Hong Kong. I talked to my Mom and Dad on the phone before they left, said the usual " have a great trip! I love you" stuff, and that was that. Three days later, I get a call from my Dad saying Mom was in a coma and it didn't look like she was going to make it.

I really don't remember much of the next three months. As I told a friend of mine, it was like my reality check bounced. I remember going to work every once in a while, but mostly I was just numb. I have a couple really amazing friends that made sure I got out of the house at least once a week, even if it was just to come over to their place for dinner, or a little get-together.

Thirteen years later, I still miss my mom.

My Dad (Bill), brother Steve, and sister-in-law Wendy wrote a recap of what happened to share with family and friends so they could understand everything that happened. Although it ends with my Mom dying, it is an amazing story of the goodness of people; strangers working together to help somebody— somebody they don't know, but who needs their help.

STORY OF THE FINAL DAYS

By: Bill, Steve, Wendy

Cyndy and Bill traveled to Hong Kong to visit their son, daughter in law, and two small granddaughters. They arrived on Tuesday, May 12, and then the four adults departed on Friday for a four–day package tour of Xian, China. Bill had given Cyndy the choice of where to visit, and she said she had always wanted to see the tombs of the Terra Cotta Warriors – 6,000 individually molded, life-size warriors, horses, and chariots commissioned by the first emperor of China that were uncovered just 30 years ago.

We had a wonderful day on Friday, strolling around the city, and eating at a local restaurant. The next morning, we set off on the tour bus and first visited the tombs. After lunch, we visited one more site, and then got back on the tour bus. Shortly after departing, Cyndy seemed to fall asleep, and nothing was suspected until she work up and said something in a slurred voice. A registered nurse on the bus came and sat with her as the bus drove to the closest hospital. Cyndy had by now lapsed back into unconsciousness, and she would never come out of that coma.

The people on the bus helped carry her into the "emergency room" — one room the size of a large living room, with four cots. The setting was a real shock to our Western eyes — virtually no equipment, less than clean, no privacy, and now filled with concerned members of our tour.

Someone on the bus actually knew the head of neuro research of this hospital, and he arrived after about two hours, and conferred with her attending doctors, and gave us some good explanations of what could be happening.

Of the hospital staff, only two of the doctors spoke English. The tour guide was providing us with translation, the RN from the bus was providing us with medical information, and all of our fellow travelers were supporting us in countless ways. We were finally able to convince them to go on with their tour after about two hours — no one wanted to leave.

The tour guide called his company, and his boss plus another guide arrived. We ended up calling these three men the Three Musketeers. They stayed with us, in shifts, around the clock — providing us with translation, overseeing the nurses (as this was very much a "take care of your own patient" place), making food runs. They also were invaluable, as whenever additional medication was needed, a nurse would hand them a piece of paper, they would go to the pharmacy, buy it, and bring it back. Amazing system.

We were on a Dragon Air tour, which is a local airline. The head of Dragon Air arrived Saturday evening, offering his assistance, and then returned again Sunday morning with bags of bottled water, crackers, and a bouquet of carnations — how did he guess her favorite flower?

Directly across from the hospital was a local "no star" Chinese hotel. We got a room for the Three Musketeers, and one for ourselves, to catch naps.

We called SOS, a worldwide emergency medical and evacuation company Saturday evening. Unfortunately, the earliest they would be able to fly Cyndy back to Hong Kong was Monday, as all of their planes were being used to evacuate people from Indonesia. However, on Sunday, a Belgian doctor flew down from Beijing to assess her condition, to make sure that she was transportable, and to ensure that medically everything possible was being done for her.

Steve had called his boss in Hong Kong, and he arranged for one of Steve's sales reps from Shanghai to fly in Sunday evening, to assist us with translation so we could relieve the Three Musketeers. Peter arrived Sunday at 6 p.m., and we said a very heartfelt thank you and goodbye to the Three Musketeers. About one hour later we ran into them at the hotel. They said they would not leave until Cyndy left Xian, and thank God they didn't, as we needed them for numerous things during the night and the next day.

Sunday night at 11 p.m., the SOS evacuation doctor and ICU nurse arrived from Hong Kong. They brought with them five large cases filled with Western medical supplies and equipment. A crowd of nurses and doctors gathered and watched them, and it was almost like they were seeing something out of Star Wars. They were looking at wonderment at some of the equipment and trying to understand the various uses. During the night another patient arrived, and our Hong Kong doctor helped them with that man and gave some informal medical teaching. It was very heartbreaking to us to see these doctors and nurses, who had been so kind and took such very careful care of Cyndy, look at this equipment that was out of their reach.

Monday was a flurry of numerous problems:

  • The ambulance arrived with not enough oxygen, and the doctor convinced the hospital to let them borrow one of their 5-foot metal oxygen tanks. Then the ambulance driver didn't want to take it, as he was afraid it would explode. The doctor finally convinced him otherwise. After all of this arguing, Bill was afraid this man drove the one and a half hours from the hospital to the airport as carefully as anyone in the world could have.
  • Just as we were getting ready to leave the hospital, someone from administration arrived declaring that we owed five times the amount we had already paid, as we were foreigners. Between the Three Musketeers, Peter, and ourselves, we didn't have near enough cash, and finally Peter, after much persuasive arguing, got them to just take everything we had on hand.
  • The pilots who were going to fly Cyndy to Hong Kong were coming in from Beijing and their flight was delayed.

Wendy and Steve had to catch their commercial flight, and they left Cyndy and Bill in capable hands of the Three Musketeers and Peter, who escorted the ambulance to the airport, where the head of Dragon Air had made arrangements so the ambulance could drive directly to the waiting plane, which is virtually unheard of in China.

We met up at the finest Western hospital in Hong Kong, Cyndy having made the flight in a very stable condition. The wonderful ICU nurses dressed Cyndy in a gown, brushed her teeth and hair, and put lotion and powder on her, constantly talking to her, telling her what they were doing.

The chaplain at the hospital was very helpful and supportive, and the nurses were extremely empathetic, one joining us in our tears. Another Chinese nurse, Pentecostal prayer circle leader, prayed with Cyndy and Bill, and spent hours reading the Bible to Cyndy.

A CT scan was performed and performed, and confirmed our worst fears that the bleeding in her head was massive. They said that based on all the facts, that even if she had been in the best hospital in the U.S., nothing could have been done — it was quick, massive, and painless. Cyndy's wish was for organ donation, so after following all the necessary procedures, we said goodbye to Cyndy, knowing that her wish would be fulfilled. We later learned that a liver transplant was successful, and with her donation, about 10-12 people should be helped.

The family wanted to share this story with you to help ease your mind, and as one of the doctors said, she died a very dignified death with virtually no pain. Bill, Steve, and Wendy felt very fortunate having the time with her to grieve and say goodbye. We keep telling everyone that for the worst possible outcome, it was the best possible experience. Cyndy spent so much of her life giving to others, and it was wonderful seeing that same spirit in everyone with whom we came in contact. The care, love, and support we received along the way was amazing -- all of the doctors and nurses at both hospitals, Steve's rep Peter, DragonAir, and especially the 48 continuous hours from the Three Musketeers -- William, Paul, and George. These men, who are Buddhists, tucked a note in our bags, which we discovered in Hong Kong. A small excerpt is:

Dear Cyndy: We hope you'll come back to visit China and Xian again. We've been with you for more than 40 hours in hospital, and you'll be with us forever. There is still chance because God is blessing you.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-21 12:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] joebehrsandiego.livejournal.com
Jeff - Both your story and your family members' are very powerful and moving. Thanks so much for sharing them.

Both my folks have died; my dad in 1984 and my mom in 2009. It's odd ... I haven't grieved in a very long time, and don't "willfully" miss them, but I dream of and with them and talk to them fairly often that way.

I know what the night you had last night was like. Thinking good thoughts for you.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-24 05:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jpinsd.livejournal.com
Thanks, Joe.
(hugs)

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-21 12:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] putzmeisterbear.livejournal.com
Big tight hugs.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-21 01:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dbear71.livejournal.com
I know the sadness you are talking about JP. I lost my dad in 2004 to cancer.It will be 7 years this August and I miss him so much it hurts.
I still have dreams all the time where he is alive today, interacting with people and family that are in my life right now.When I wake up I feel sad but I also feel happy in a way because the dreams are so real that it seems like he is alive.
I have dreams like this often, so I feel like my dad is visiting me in my dreams.
I know he is always with me as your mother is always with you JP.It doesn't make the sadness go away but it does make me feel better.
You are such a great and wonderful person JP, and wherever your mom is she is looking at you and your family with much love, and is very proud of you for being the wonderful man that you are. You have many friends that love you and I am one of those friends.
A part of who you are today is because of your mom, and her love and guidance throughout your life.
I might not see you that often or get to hang out with you as much as I would like but I am always happy to visit you when we do go out. I thank your mom for giving us you JP. That alone makes her a wonderful person to me.
So next time she visits you in your dreams, try not to wake up sad but just be glad you got to spend a little more time with her,even if it was in a dream. That's what I do :)

Much love to you and a HUGE HUG for you as well handsome.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-24 05:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jpinsd.livejournal.com
Thanks, Daryl.
Most of the dreams I have about her are good ones - if a bit weird. Most of the time, we know that she died, but for some reason she is back with us. We also know to never talk about— or tell her— about that time when she was dead.

I often wake up happy, until i realize it was a dream, and she's not really 'back'. Then i get blue and melancholy.

Hugs to you and Mike. Hope to see ya more this summer!

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-21 04:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fogbear.livejournal.com
*hugs*

It's been 18 years since I lost my mom, and 28 since I lost my dad, and I still dream about them frequently. It gets easier, but it never goes away.

*more hugs*

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-24 05:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jpinsd.livejournal.com
No, you are right, it never goes away. And I don't want it to, either. I want to remember.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-05-21 04:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] texwriterbear.livejournal.com
Thanks for sharing JP!
Big hugs!!!

:(

Date: 2011-05-21 05:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bearpawly.livejournal.com
My deepest, heart-felt sympathies, buddy.

This past April marked 17 year since my Dad died while I was abroad (in Korea) and 16 years since Mom died.

It is unfathomable to me that it has been that long ago.

Re: :(

Date: 2011-05-24 05:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jpinsd.livejournal.com
Sorry to hear that, buddy. It seems like April for you is like May for me; My mom died, my grandmother died, and my dog died all in the month of May - but not in the same year, thankfully.

Hugs to you as well, hon.

:o(

Date: 2011-05-21 11:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] huxbear.livejournal.com
That's an amazing story, man -- you and your family are in my thoughts... [[fuzzy cyber-snuggs]]

round off

Date: 2011-06-04 05:29 am (UTC)
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