haunting face of dying DF (TW)

[youllneedthisfish]

My DF is dying - likely today. He has advanced dementia and Parkinson's.

Me and my DM spent 7 hours yesterday by his bed watching and listening and trying to discern changes in breathing that might signal the end - it was awful. He is not conscious anymore and hasn't eaten or drunk for 28 hours. We are about to head back to the nursing home after some hours off. This morning his breathing was regular and relaxed. We don't know how long this will take :-(

We are both haunted by his face. There is nothing of him - bones and slack flesh in arms and legs, nose is just cartilage and skin, eyes are sunken right under his eyebrows, mouth open and eyes glazed over and half open. Its horrible to see and will haunt us both for a long time.

Can anyone recommend ways to stop seeing this image day and night? its not a way to remember someone is it??

[sunglassesonthetable]

I wish I had known this. I would have loved to have seen my OH lying peacefully. With all the pain behind him.

[AgathaBrazen]

I totally hear you, OP.

My mum died in March from cancer. She stopped eating/drinking on the Monday and didn't die until the Friday.

Like you, we just sat and watched her breathing shallowly for 4 days.

The person in that bed wasn't my mum. She'd gone already.

The nurses were wonderful and said it's much worse for us than the person dying.

I'm now nearly 3 months on and it does get easier. To start with it was hard but as time has gone on, it's got easier and the memory of her last weeks have faded and I'm finding I'm remembering her more as she was before her illness.

Take care, OP.

[moofolk]

I'm so sorry to hear what you are going through.

I am lucky to have both my parents, but have been through this with both other relatives and friends.

At the moment you are in a strange place, grieving while he's still here, and I have no advice on how to get through it, but am glad that you and your mum have each other. Depending on your proclivities and relationship you might want to talk about him at other times if his life, discuss (as sounds like you have) how he looks now, or just go and watch sit coms to give your minds a break.

However, what I personally have found when loved ones pass, is solace at seeing them afterwards. There is something about the stillness and finality of death and sitting with the person that (for me, not for everyone), heals the image of struggle and dying that had persisted until then.

I think most people know if that will help them or not, I know some hate it, but it is has worked for me.

I know it's morbid to think of gaining solace from seeing him dead while he's still alive, so forgive me if this seems insensitive.

However what I'm trying to get at is that the images you are witnessing now will pass; perhaps you will find sitting with him afterwards helpful, but if that's not for you, the images of your father while he had much more life in him will come back to take over these disturbing ones.

Much love ❤️

[youllneedthisfish]

still here, and so is DF. We saw him again today, and no change. The only thing I could think of was to read him a poem - he is a poetry fan, and the nurse told me that hearing is one of the last things to go... I couldn't bear to read the one he's put for his funeral as its too emotional, but I found one about June (I've been reading seasonal poems as they don't tend to be sad and keep in the moment)

FYI its lovely - and has a poignance as it has the old shepherds reminiscing about the times gone by while shearing the sheep. Anyway:

"Now summer is in flower and natures hum
Is never silent round her sultry bloom
Insects as small as dust are never done
Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
Are never weary of their melody
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers
Agape for dew falls and for honey showers
These round each bush in sweet disorder run
And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun
Where its silk netting lace on twigs and leaves
The mottld spider at eves leisure weaves
That every morning meet the poets eye
Like faireys dew wet dresses hung to dry
The wheat swells into ear and leaves below
The may month wild flowers and their gaudy show
Bright carlock bluecap and corn poppy red
Which in such clouds of colors wid [e] ly spread
That at the sun rise might to fancys eye
Seem to reflect the many colord sky
And leverets seat and lark and partridge nest
It leaves a schoolboys height in snugger rest
And oer the weeders labour overgrows
Who now in merry groups each morning goes
To willow skirted meads wi fork and rake
The scented hay cocks in long rows to make
Where their old visitors in russet brown
The haytime butterflyes dance up and down
And gads that teaze like whasps the timid maid
And drive the herdboys cows to pond and shade
Who when his dogs assistance fails to stop
Is forcd his half made oaten pipes to drop
And start and hallo thro the dancing heat
To keep their gadding tumult from the wheat
Who in their rage will dangers overlook
And leap like hunters oer the pasture brook
Brushing thro blossomd beans in maddening haste
And 'stroying corn they scarce can stop to taste
Labour pursues its toil in weary mood
And feign woud rest wi shadows in the wood
The mowing gangs bend oer the beeded grass
Where oft the gipseys hungry journeying ass
Will turn its wishes from the meadow paths
Listning the rustle of the falling swaths
The ploughman sweats along the fallow vales
And down the suncrackt furrow slowly trails
Oft seeking when athirst the brooks supply
Where brushing eager the brinks bushes bye
For coolest water he oft brakes the rest
Of ring dove brooding oer its idle nest
And there as loath to leave the swaily place
He'll stand to breath and whipe his burning face
The shepherds idle hours are over now
Nor longer leaves him neath the hedgrow bough
On shadow pillowd banks and lolling stile
Wilds looses now their summer friends awhile
Shrill whistles barking dogs and chiding scold
Drive bleating sheep each morn from fallow fold
To wash pits where the willow shadows lean
Dashing them in their fold staind coats to clean
Then turnd on sunning sward to dry agen
They drove them homeward to the clipping pen
In hurdles pent where elm or sycamore
Shut out the sun-or in some threshing floor
There they wi scraps of songs and laugh and tale
Lighten their anual toils while merry ale
Goes round and gladdens old mens hearts to praise
The thread bare customs of old farmers days
Who while the sturting sheep wi trembling fears
Lies neath the snipping of his harmless sheers
Recalls full many a thing by bards unsung
And pride forgot-that reignd when he was young
How the hugh bowl was in the middle set
At breakfast time as clippers yearly met
Filld full of frumity where yearly swum
The streaking sugar and the spotting plumb
Which maids coud never to the table bring
Without one rising from the merry ring
To lend a hand who if twas taen amiss
Woud sell his kindness for a stolen kiss
The large stone pitcher in its homly trim
And clouded pint horn wi its copper rim
Oer which rude healths was drank in spirits high
From the best broach the cellar woud supply
While sung the ancient swains in homly ryhmes
Songs that were pictures of the good old times
When leathern bottles held the beer nut brown
That wakd the sun wi songs and sung him down
Thus will the old man ancient ways bewail
Till toiling sheers gain ground upon the tale
And brakes it off-when from the timid sheep
The fleece is shorn and wi a fearfull leap
He starts-while wi a pressing hand
His sides are printed by the tarry brand
Shaking his naked skin wi wondering joys
And fresh ones are tugd in by sturdy boys
Who when theyre thrown down neath the sheering swain
Will wipe his brow and start his tale again
Tho fashions haughtv frown hath thrown aside
Half the old forms simplicity supplyd
Yet their are some prides winter deigns to spare
Left like green ivy when the trees are bare
And now when sheering of the flocks are done
Some ancient customs mixd wi harmless fun
Crowns the swains merry toils-the timid maid
Pleasd to be praisd and yet of praise affraid
Seeks her best flowers not those of woods and fields
But such as every farmers garden yield
Fine cabbage roses painted like her face
And shining pansys trimmd in golden lace
And tall tuft larkheels featherd thick wi flowers
And woodbines climbing oer the door in bowers
And London tufts of many a mottld hue
And pale pink pea and monkshood darkly blue
And white and purple jiliflowers that stay
Lingering in blossom summer half away
And single blood walls of a lucious smell
Old fashiond flowers which huswives love so well
And columbines stone blue or deep night brown
Their honey-comb-like blossoms hanging down
Each cottage gardens fond adopted child
Tho heaths still claim them where they yet grow wild
Mong their old wild companions summer blooms
Furze brake and mozzling ling and golden broom
Snap dragons gaping like to sleeping clowns
And 'clipping pinks' (which maidens sunday gowns
Full often wear catcht at by tozing chaps)
Pink as the ribbons round their snowy caps
'Bess in her bravery' too of glowing dyes
As deep as sunsets crimson pillowd skyes
And majoram notts sweet briar and ribbon grass
And lavender the choice of every lass
And sprigs of lads love all familiar names
Which every garden thro the village claims
These the maid gathers wi a coy delight
And tyes them up in readiness for night
Giving to every swain tween love and shame
Her 'clipping poseys' as their yearly claim
And turning as he claims the custom kiss
Wi stifld smiles half ankering after bliss
She shrinks away and blushing calls it rude
But turns to smile and hopes to be pursued
While one to whom the seeming hint applied
Follows to claim it and is not denyd
No doubt a lover for within his coat
His nosegay owns each flower of better sort
And when the envious mutter oer their beer
And nodd the secret to his neighbor near
Raising the laugh to make the mutter known
She blushes silent and will not disown
And ale and songs and healths and merry ways
Keeps up a shadow of old farmers days
But the old beachen bowl that once supplyd
Its feast of frumity is thrown aside
And the old freedom that was living then
When masters made them merry wi their men
Whose coat was like his neighbors russet brown
And whose rude speech was vulgar as his clown
Who in the same horn drank the rest among
And joind the chorus while a labourer sung
All this is past-and soon may pass away
The time torn remnant of the holiday
As proud distinction makes a wider space
Between the genteel and the vulgar race
Then must they fade as pride oer custom showers
Its blighting mildew on her feeble flowers
John Clare"

[sunglassesonthetable]

what a lovely thing to do for him.

[sunglassesonthetable]

sending you strength OP

[caringcarer]

Definately carry of pictures of him smiling in happier days. How you des Ribe your Dad now can go on for over a week. Just be aware and try to get rest yourself.

[Ruralbliss]

I understand this. I watched my best friend die of cancer in my early twenties.

I sketched the scene over and over again. I'm not much of an artist but this helped.

I'm also convinced that seeing her that way ultimately helped to process her death. It was so horrific and real

[MissChristie]

So sorry OP.

This will pass and eventually when you think of your dad, you’ll picture him as young and healthy. It takes a long time though. It took me a few years. Looking at lots of photos of him as a young man will help.

Sending a hug to you.

[Whooshaagh]

So sorry OP.

I didn't know the poem but I enjoyed reading it.
A vivid picture formed in my mind and I hope it did for your df too.

[helpfulperson]

You don't need to be with him. Often people wait to be alone to pass. We told my dad, in similar circumstances, that we loved him but it was time to say goodbye now and left. We got the call about 24hrs later to say he'd passed.

[mamaneedsanap23]

I know that face well, it's a horrible thing to witness. I'm so sorry.

It actually helped me to see my relative in the chapel of rest after. They had made her look much more like herself than she did in the days leading up to her death. It's not for everyone but maybe something to consider when the time comes.

Take comfort in the fact that your dad is pain free and likely unaware of what's happening. Sending you love and strength x

[youllneedthisfish]

@caringcarer thanks - yes I did some research and it can even go longer than a week - the slower the metabolism the longer it takes to die from dehydration. Horrifying. On Sunday the paramedic sort of prepared us for it being within a few hours - but now I do remember her saying it could stabilise and then would be unoredictable. I just can't believe a human body is capable of being on the brink for so long...

[AnchorWHAT]

My mum carried on for two weeks, it was absolutely awful just sitting waiting for the end.

[stargirl1701]

Make sure you see him after his death but before he leaves the setting he is in.

Seeing them at peace really does help.

[Mischance]

Did all this with OH who had Parkinsons ..... it just went on and on. No fluids for about 10 days and there he was still breathing. It was hell. It haunts me still.

I have a friend who now also has PD - I can't bear to look at him as I know what is to come for him and for his poor wife.

[Wbeezer]

Hope nobody minds me buying in with a suggestion:
There's been research into how the brain stores traumatic images, apparently you can stop a traumatic visual memory from being transfered into a long term memory by playing a simple visual computer game that requires a bit of concentration on your phone, something like Tetris is ideal. It sounds a bit daft but it works apparently , they tested it on people who had just been on the scene of an accident. I made a mental note of it just in case me or my kids witness something distressing.
I'm sorry you've all been through such loses.

[youllneedthisfish]

@Wbeezer thanks that’s interesting I will look it up.

he’s still the same, a week tomorrow now. It’s so awful - we are finding ourselves really wishing he’d die, which takes some psychological jumping through hoops…

I’m an arts professional and I might actually try drawing from a nicer picture of him as an erasure technique.

[BigBadBoom]

We lost my mother-in-law a month ago, and it was similarly awful at the end, she was like a shell of herself. Shortly after she died, we set up a shared photo folder and filled it with pictures of her and all the happy times we had together. We use it as a screensaver on our TV, and bought something for my father-in-law to view them on too. I think it has really helped to replace those final memories with the ones that she would want us to have. Hugs for you, it's so, so hard ❤️

[Oinkypig]

I hope you are ok, it must be so hard, I would just echo pp saying see him after he passes if you can. I’m Irish and we go to funerals from a very young age and I’ve only just recently at the age of 40 started understand people saying “they look like themselves”. We bring people home to their house to wake them and they just seem to look like themselves again. Remember your dad and take care of yourselves xoxo

[TheIoWfairy]

Hope it's all ok today OP. For my dad's wake, we prepared a little display of our favourite photos. Choosing the pics and the general family chat surrounding this was lovely - and went a long way to counteracting the negative mental images. Hugs to you

[youllneedthisfish]

Hi all, my DF died this morning. We did feel that we needed to go and see him, which was the right thing for both of us - so thanks for your recommendations to do this all. He did not look much different actually as he lost so much weight and muscle recently. Definitely less horrible than seeing someone dying though.

it’s been a horrible week, but we feel able
to grieve properly now.

I must say to anyone seeing this that the nursing home and staff were absolutely incredible. So caring and lovely to him and us. Anyone hesitating or feeling that putting someone in a home is the last resort should take comfort that there are places that make later lives comfortable, safe and loving happy places to be, it’s not a condemnation or horror.

I am so glad we have been dealing with people that did know DF and cared about him and not a hospital.

thanks again for your kind words

[Hollyhocksarenotmessy]

I am so very sorry for your loss.

My father died in a similar way and looked horrific.

It was a huge comfort to visit him at the funeral home, where he looked peaceful, dignified, smartly dressed, and his true self again. That is my lasting final memory of him.

[ScoobyDoNot]

I'm so sorry.
If it helps, I spent my dads last week by his side and was there when he passed (he died at home)

The end came very fast but quite obviously iykwim. The 'rattle' started mid afternoon and he passed away early hours, so around 8 hours.

I saw him in the chapel a week after he'd passed and it was very distressing but when I picture it now, all I see is my dad as he was when alive. It's almost as if my subconscious has erased the image of him when he wasn't him.
I don't know if that makes much sense at all, I guess I'm just trying to say I can only remember my dad as he was when alive and well.

Wishing you all the best at this difficult time.

[stargirl1701]

I'm sorry for your loss, OP. 💐