By the way, my father is dead. He choked on tuna fish. They did 30 minutes of CPR on him and revived him on a Sunday night probably 30 minutes after my Mother and I left.
We got a call from the nursing home telling us he choked on his dinner and he was at the ER. I almost wish they’d told us his body was at the ER. We were lead into another room in the ER, one that had four walls, not the hanging sheets. We waited while they tended to him in the room next door not know he was there until a short time later. The family arrived, coming in bit by bit. Mom and I and E had a chance to go in and see him. Tubes down his throat, the nurse told us his clothes had been cut off him and he was in a johnny.
A tall pretty woman came in and gave us a brief rundown of what had happened, what she knew. The doctor came in a while later. We got the tough news that he was probably permanently brain damaged but he’d seen worse and knew of a few others that came out of the coma they’d been in. Coma? No one said coma. The plan was to let him stay on the breathing tubes and see if he came out of the coma on his own. 72 hours. Then go from there. More waiting at the brink of death.
Long story short: 72 hours, brain damage remains. Wait 24 hours then take out the breathing tubes. Did he want life support? NO. Out came the breathing tubes. He lasted until Friday, 2:50 pm. He breathed no more.
At least we hugged and kissed him before we left VH.