This is the last part in a series. It was written by Jon Haas, who lost his wife Jan March 26, 2009 to Bronchiectasis.
The saddest part was when the doctors came to me and said Jane had 24 to 36 hours to live. I wore the same clothes for the next three days; never leaving her side and I wore the tie I was married in from September 29, 1984—our wedding day. I slept in the recliner next to her bed as usual. The day before she died she was given small doses of morphine since her kidneys were starting to deteriorate and her anemia was worse.
Favorite of Jane known as “I Love You Always” – Taken December 17, 1994
The morphine slowed her down and tended to allow her to be comfortable. The day before she died I didn’t talk to Jane but she knew I was there. When she would wiggle her foot under influence of the morphine; she did it at a much slower rate than she had before. Her toes and upper foot would move in the same pattern only not nearly as fast. She was totally aware of what was going on in the room and wanted me to know. The day she died the doctors and counselor came in to tell me about 10:30AM they wanted to remove all the equipment and let Jane go peacefully.
This was something Jane had decided earlier that month, and that we had agreed upon with our family attorney. She did not want to be resuscitated or supported in a vegetative state, should that come to pass.
About 6:30AM the doctors said to start Palliative care again and they were not going to treat her any longer. My response was that they had to be sure. They doctors said they were sure.
When Jane passed, I immediately touched her right arm and started saying “The Lord’s Prayer” as both nurses huddled with their arms around me and prayed. The female RT who was so close to Jane, came in and hugged me a long time and cried. A number of the other nurses came in and did the same. They said there was nothing I could do (anymore) and that I agreed and said, “I did everything I could possibly do for Jane”.
I cried at that time and it was a very sad time in Room 816. Jane fought with as much conviction, strength and determination as she could muster each and every day.
After she passed, the doctors and hospital staff had a lot of trouble adjusting to the fact she was gone. I participated in moving Jane to the 2nd floor morgue. I felt it a little odd; but was grateful to have a chance to “be alone” with Jane once last time.
The day I buried Jane, I felt incredibly drained and terribly broken hearted. A sense of peace came over me however, as a said “a final goodbye” to my wonderful Jane one last time.
