Susan Popper died last night shortly before 10 p.m.

Maria and I left the hospital shortly before she died, she left the world peacefully and without pain. She died just after we got home.  Thanks for all of your support and good wishes, they mattered.

I had just finished writing this post, and the phone went out for a while, then I got the news.  I decided to leave the post up.

I don’t know if Susan knew that Maria and I were there. I hope so. I almost kept my promise to be there when she died, so she wouldn’t be alone. Sorry I wasn’t there.  I thought I had until morning. But we were both glad and grateful to say goodbye to her and see her shortly before she died. She had a rough life, but stayed full of life and joy.

She asked me to be honest about her life, and I tried to honor that.

I must mention her brother Steven and her best friend Donna Nicosia. We learned of her illness when it was far along, but we worked hard and together to get her into a hospital and help her make the best decisions for herself. She got the best possible care at Saratoga Hospital and ended up leaving the world in comfort and dignity. I am proud to know Donna and Steven.

 

I woke up exhausted this morning, as weary as I can remember being.

I fell asleep at my desk in the morning – a first – and then lay down this afternoon. I called the hospital and asked about Susan’s medical condition and they said it was stable and would call me if there was a change.

I didn’t get it, I am not the sick one, but watching someone you care about get so sick and be so alone and then die a bit day after day in the hospital is a spiritual and emotional challenge I need to take seriously, as good friends have cautioned.

I finally understood today that the process of watching Susan die was taking a toll, I decided to take a day off from visiting the hospital and rest.

This was difficult for me as I promised Susan and myself that I would be there when she died. I didn’t want her to be alone, as she was in the weeks before her hospitalization.

Around dusk, I got a call from her day nurse – I am a proxy for Susan and a patient advocate, along with Donna Nicosia and her brother. As I am the only one who lives anywhere near the hospital, I get the call if I am needed to be there, or make a sudden decision.

I consider being a proxy an honor and take it seriously, it is healing for me to have been chosen by Susan for that.

I keep Steven and Donna informed of everything I know. We have all gotten close.

The nurse told me Susan’s condition had changed during the day, her body was colder and her breathing slower. She didn’t know if death was imminent – there is no way of knowing – but she knew I had asked to be called if there was any change.

Maria offered to drive me – she wanted to see Susan herself one more time and was concerned about my driving at night after being so tired. Even staying home, I spent a lot of time on the phone today dealing with Susan’s care. It is an all-encompassing thing, there is really no getting away from it.

We went to Saratoga and went up to Susan’s room.

She had changed quite dramatically even since yesterday. Her breathing was slow and deep, her hand did feel much colder, she had a slight rattle in her throat.

Although Donna had visited her in the morning – Donna said Susan absolutely knew she was there – Susan showed no sign of recognition, her eyes were closed, her breath alarming. We sat with her for awhile – an hour I think – and then decided to come home. I have the feeling I’ll be back there later tonight or tomorrow morning.

It is very important to me that Susan not die alone if it is possible for me to be there. I was shaken by how alone she was when we discovered how sick and helpless she was

.I promised her and myself to not let her die alone if I can be there. This is my goal and obligation.

I want to say that Susan suffered terribly before we got her into an ambulance and to this wonderful hospital. She is not suffering now. She is in no pain, is under no pain medication.

The nurses visit her and care for her and clean and check on her throughout the day. The night nurse promised to call me if there is any change, no matter what time it is, and I’m prepared to return to the hospital any time she calls.

Maria and I both said goodbye to Susan, we had to get back to the farm. She died shortly after we got home. No pain, her face peaceful. I did hear the death rattle in her throat, I knew it from hospice.

Susan is showing every sign of getting ready to die. It could be hours or even days, nobody can say. A nurse asked me if Zinnia would know if Susan was dying.

I said only if Susan had been feeding her. We did get to laugh and Susan would have loved that joke.

(I am so glad Susan got to die so comfortably and with so little pain. That is a great hospital she was in.)