Author Topic: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later  (Read 5432 times)


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The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« on: March 16, 2015, 11:14:42 PM »
Honestly, I've been too jacked up to post about Brooks' actual death. I think my damn cheese finally flew off its cracker the week lead-up to his sadiversary.

Well, good. I officially don't have my shit together all over again.

On the evening of the 12th, the ICU nurse pointedly implored me yet again to go home and get some rest. I never heeded her admonition; what if he emerged from his coma for mere minutes and I missed it?

 This time she added, "when he arouses from this, he's going to need you like never before, so please be rested when he does." This was logic I could follow. Ok, my hubby will need me at maximum capacity; I finally relented and my momma drove me back to our house to sleep a few hours. We'd return to the hospital at 4am.

Sounded like a plan.

But: my cell rang at 12:15am, jettisoning me from deep slumber to awake, pulse quickened. The nurse said hesitantly, "There's been a change in your husband's condition." I screamed,"Is he alright??"

"No ma'am, if he doesn't improve, CPR could come into play. You need to come up here." No, no, no, she had to be mistaken. Nevertheless,  Mom and I bolted to the hospital, me in the passenger seat frantically texting any and all to please pray for Brooks.

Mom dropped me off at the hospital entry way. Overhead, the loud speakers were blaring: Code 99, Code 99. I exploded into the ICU, sprinting down the corridor and was caught by the neurosurgeon. He forced me into a chair and started to talk: "All of Brooks' organ damage has put stress on his heart, and--"

I cut in, "No, not his heart, it's his head..."

He said, more firmly ,"No! His heart. They are working on him." I cried, "Are you talking about CPR?" He only nodded. I leapt off my chair, and began to dash towards Brooks' room. The doctor grabbed my arm, and told me I don't need to be in there. Bullshit! I pushed him off me, and ran to Brooks.

The first thing I saw was his ashen face, this mottled, inhuman grey that I'll never forget. About 15 people were working his code. The violent chest compressions,  the defibrillator pads making his thorax jerk, tubes, catheters , IV insertions, the monitor chimes screeching. It was mayhem, full stop.

I surveyed the scene and began pleading, begging, "Please help him! Oh my God, please help him!!" I also wormed my way as close to Brooks as I was permitted and I shouted at him to stay with me, that I needed him, that I loved him. I reported his vitals to him and let him know he was doing better.

They resuscitated him successfully twice. I'd be flooded with relief, with gratitude, only for Brooks to code again a few minutes later.

The doctor running the code was a nasty young asswipe.  During one of Brooks' successful CPR's, he swaggered over to me and imperiously stated, "You need to shut this down. This is not compatible with life. He's only going to do it again." All this within Brooks' earshot.

Fuck you, fake - ass Ken doll!

I yelled for someone to get him out of my face. Brooks did code again, and when darkened blood started spurting from his mouth, I knew his ribs to be broken, his lungs most likely perforated. But when all orifices--surgical and nonsurgical started an ooze- like hemorrhage, I knew it was done. My head knew. My heart sure didn't.

They yelled, CLEAR, and trembling, I asked, "What's happening?  What's going on? Do everything. Please!!" The ersatz Ken Doll rolled his eyes and barely concealed his irritation:"we've already done everything. He's not even THERE anymore!"

I held Brooks' limp hand as they removed his medical equipment. I climbed onto his gurney and hugged him. I kissed him, and at one point, tented up an eyelid to see if he was truly dead. The nurses and my momma had to peel me off his body, as I was clutching him. Much of this part, I have no authentic memories of. My momma told me later what had transpired.

I fuzzily recall being shuffled past all the ICU nurses who were crying and squeezing my hands as we were ushered into a small private room to discuss arrangements for the funeral home and whether we wanted an autopsy. No. My Brooks had been cut on so much in the past year and a half. He told me: never let another hole be drilled into my head, and never let me live on a machine. He told me this three days before he died, oddly enough.

And I'd allowed both to happen in order to save his life. But after he lost the battle, I'd be damned if I permitted him to be violated any further.

No, my Brooks would have peace from now on.


« Last Edit: March 16, 2015, 11:38:29 PM by Baylee627 »
Though lovers be lost, love shall not, and death shall have no dominion--Dylan Thomas


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #1 on: March 17, 2015, 12:21:26 AM »
 "I'm so sorry" is not enough. No words. ((Baylee))
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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #2 on: March 17, 2015, 12:32:10 AM »


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #3 on: March 17, 2015, 12:56:12 AM »
Hugs Baylee!!!!! My heart started to race when I read this and I'm holding back tears. I am so sorry!!!! (((Baylee)))


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #4 on: March 17, 2015, 06:40:15 AM »
(((Baylee)))I know how difficult to relive those final moments and how it can feel just like yesterday when you are faced with the one year anniversary.   Your love for Brooks was a gift you gave him right up to his last breath.

I hope the good memories start to take over now.
You will forever be my always.


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #5 on: March 17, 2015, 07:08:12 AM »
((Baylee)) That is such a terrifying ordeal. Thinking of you and Brooks.  It sounds like you were an awesome advocate for your love.

And that Ken Doll is on my FOH Friday list and will be for sometime.


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #6 on: March 17, 2015, 08:05:38 AM »
I couldn't read and not respond, though I have no words.  Top of the list though is I think Ken Doll could become the new widda punching bag.  My heart just weeps for you and the trauma that is forever imprinted in your soul from that night.  But please take solace in knowing you were Brooks' champion.  You fought for him like no one ever would.  The strong bond of your love for each other didn't go anywhere that night.  It's still there and no one can take it away from you.
I can't look at the stars they make me wonder where you are. 
Stars.... up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all
I know you've gone too far
 So I .... I can't look at the stars --Grace Potter


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #7 on: March 17, 2015, 09:27:50 AM »
(((Baylee))) It's hard for me to conjure up any words.
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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #8 on: March 17, 2015, 11:08:58 AM »

... That is all I have to offer. I am so sorry...
B.H.S. 1-20-1974 - 11-13-2014

You will always be my Jack and I will always be your Sally. For we were simply meant to be.


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #9 on: March 17, 2015, 11:44:40 AM »
(((Baylee))) So sorry Baylee.  Compassion does not come naturally for some people, and Mr Ken Doll obviously needs a lesson in that.
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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #10 on: March 17, 2015, 03:54:28 PM »
Oh, Baylee. I wish I had more than hugs... ((((((BAYLEE)))))))
I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other. ~Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #11 on: March 17, 2015, 06:41:05 PM »
Bailey, your story was a true love story.  I could feel the emotions! 

Now I think I'm going to go find my daughters' Ken dolls (yes, I kept all that stuff for future grandchildren) and smack them around!  There, I think that might even help me to feel better!

Wishing you peace.


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #12 on: March 17, 2015, 07:50:49 PM »
Oh, Baylee, your love for your Brooks shines through in your story.  I know the fear of being in the ICU and hearing those machines, of having the code called, and of seeing the medical personnel working desperately to save him.  I also know the relief of seeing him pull through.  I cannot imagine having to go through that experience repeatedly, as you had to, and I cannot even begin to understand your pain at having to hear the doctor say what he did.  For Kenneth, at least, there was always hope, while we were in the hospital.  It wasn't until he decided, "No More", that all hope went away.

Hugs to you, my friend, for all you have had to endure, and for all you are having to go through, once more, remembering your Brooks' final moments.  I wish you didn't have to go through this.  I wish none of us did.
"The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude." - Thornton Wilder

Thank you, my dearest Kenneth, for loving me and for giving me the best 13 years of my life.


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #13 on: March 21, 2015, 10:58:44 PM »
I'm sorry for your loss. Your story was truly heartbreaking.


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Re: The Night He Died--And Now, a Year Later
« Reply #14 on: March 23, 2015, 06:55:34 PM »
I cannot summon words to bring you comfort.  None.  Your words brought me to tears and I thank you.  For the last 33 months, I've atuffed my feelings back into my chest - survival, you see.  To get through the days - to get my girl through her days. 

I thank you for your words of permission to feel sadness and irrepressible love.  Sadness for you, for our fellow wids, and finally for me.  I wish you peace and I wish you so much love...
"I always knew looking back on my tears would bring me laughter, but I never knew looking back on my laughter would make me cry." ~Cat Stevens