Thurs. night, Apr. 23rd
I am sitting in Dan’s room. He is struggling to breathe somewhat, but it is quiet and smooth. He is doped up with morphine. Hasn’t been conscious all day long. It is a waiting game now, just waiting for him to stop breathing. It may be tonight, or it may be tomorrow. I decided to stay here for the night, as they have a chair for me that I can lay back in, and a blanket. Jamal will pick me up in the morning and just drive me to the airport. I just think it is a shame for any person to be alone at death. I wish he would give up the fight but he is fighting to the very end. It is really unpleasant to be here, I am just doing my utmost and then will rest knowing I did all I could this last week of his life. Honestly, I will be glad to go home tomorrow. I told him in his ear, though he couldn’t respond, that this was the end of his life, he needed to go to other worlds, that this life was done, and if he saw other relatives there, to go to them. I even told him about the arrangements for his cremation and that his ashes would be scattered on the sea, and that his money had paid for it all, that all was arranged.
I am going to go out for a short walk now before it is dark, and possibly get a coffee in a coffee shop next door, if it is still open. There is a lay-down-chair in the hallway outside the door. I will bring it in later tonight, when the guests of the other man in this room, leave. They can’t even provide a single room. It is really disrespectful to the person dying, to the family members here, and to the man next to Dan, to have no single room for us to be in, in these final hours. It totally sucks. I asked for a single room and they said they had no space right now. Great for the guy next to us. Dan is taking a breath, then stopping for 10 seconds or so, then will take another breath. He seems comfortable for the most part. My sense is that he is struggling with his life being over.
I know that I am totally exhausted and will fall apart when I am really home. I’ll need to lay in bed for a day.
10:15 pm
The people next to Dan are a couple of brothers who got injured somehow in an “assault,” I heard one of them say on the phone. One of them lives here, I believe. The other one is visiting. He evidently won’t leave until his brother goes to sleep. I cannot figure out the “chair-bed” or lie in it until they leave. There was another woman here for the evening, either a sister or the wife of the one who lives here. She constantly bitched at the man who lives here whose name is Alan. If she is his wife, she needs to make something better of her life and be happy instead of resenting every moment they are together. They don’t seem to put anyone to bed in this place. There are some people in wheel chairs still in the hallways.
Dan just keeps breathing and slightly moaning. I feel like this will never end.
10:45pm
People that leave family members in these places for long periods of time should be shot. They suck. The people here are nice but it smells stuffy. There is a lady across the hall who occasionally starts yelling, “OH, no, oh no,” and then she will scream. Sometimes it is when they are changing her pads. She just starts doing it every once in awhile. Then her roomate will say to her, “Oh shut up.” There are some people who look rather young but are severely physically handicapped. One guy has a ponytail, looks to be about 40, maybe, never speaks, and has his foot in some sort of cast. He smokes cigarettes but never speaks. I saw one black man in here, severely handicapped, in a chair in the hallway. He seemed satisfied for the most part, and could tell the nurses what he wanted. He might be paraplegic. Another older lady goes around in her wheelchair and constantly worries about the animals. There are two dogs who live outside in the garden area, a rabbit in a cage, 10 parakeets inside in a large cage, and 2 other larger birds who started making loud bird calls to me earlier this evening when I sat next to them. Lights are on all night, Dan’s oxygen machine is going. They are just giving him morphine occasionally.
I think the guy whose brother lives here is also staying for the night. Not sure what to do about that. I will either sleep in the chair anyway, or go out into the parlor area (by the birds) and sleep on the small couch out there. It is now nearly 11pm. Night to remember.
Mostly white people in here, though I’ve seen a couple of black women as well. I think I’m going to go out and lay on the couch.
6:40am
About 3:30 I awoke (from a light and uncomfortable sleep) and thought maybe Dan was going. But no, he continues to take a breath. His breathing at that point became somewhat more shallow. So here we are. Maybe he is waiting for me to leave, rather than for someone to get here, as they say. He has no IV, his intake is nothing since yesterday morning, his output is nothing, and yet he continues. I wonder if in his mind he knows what is happening at this point, or if in his mind he still plans to get out of bed and escape this place. I spoke in his ear yesterday evening and told him all that was happening to him and what the arrangements are for him. Yet, knowing Dan, he is still planning to prove us all wrong. I feel bad that he may be alone at death in the end, but perhaps that is fitting, with his lifestyle, and the plan all along. Nurses give him morphine every 2 hours, in a squeeze tube into the mouth. His cremation bill has been paid, & all is done, except this man keeps breathing. My friend is scheduled to come pick me up and go to the airport in about 2.5 hours. I will leave a list of 2 Bahai prayers, plus the Lord’s prayer, on his bed. Perhaps someone will read them when they find him. All I can do is ask. Our Grandpa Plantenga, who Dan mentioned the other day, used to always say the Lord’s prayer at meals on holidays. With Dan’s use of churches for food and anything else they would give him, I thought that would be fitting. I really can’t wait to be on the plane. I have said prayers every once in awhile all night long, I have begged God to help him give up the struggle, all to no avail. I’ve been here at his bedside, waiting, waiting, and he is being stubborn. It may take some longer than others to sort through their life and go on to another one.
One last note: There is an expression, “the smell of death”. Well it is in this room. I think it is in Dan’s breath.
Doctor Grandma 
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