The first couple of days my father was out of the hospital and back home, he seemed to be doing ok. His spirits were up and he was walking around to regain his strength with the aid of a walker. The constant dialysis took a toll on him however and each session took a great deal of energy out of him. Things began to degrade rather quickly for my dad however. He started to become lethargic and it was getting harder for us to get him up during the days he had to go through dialysis which worried us so it was decided that we take him back to the hospital and find out what was going on. This all happened in a couple of weeks' time.
He was re-admitted to Northridge Hospital in mid-June. Prior to him being released the first time, his doctors had advised us that we make appointments to see the doctors at USC Keck Hospital in east Lost Angeles after he had recovered because the doctors there were more specialized in what my dad was dealing with. My father spent one day in Northridge Hospital and was transferred to USC Keck. His situation had become dire.
I spent the better part of the day at the hospital the day he died. My sister stayed with him the night before and both her and my brother had work and was unable to keep him company. The nurses and doctors kept a constant watch on him as he was receiving care there, always stopping by and asking how he was doing. Everything seemed fine to me and nothing alarmed me of what was to come later that day for us all.
Around 7pm, I headed out so I can make my buses and trains home. I felt my dad was in good hands and my brother was set to relieve me. Before making it home, I stopped by my sister's work to grab some dinner. I hadn't eaten much that day. Just lunch from the local food trucks outside of the hospital. She asked me how dad was doing and I informed her about my observations during my stay there. After getting dinner, I went went home and as I got off the bus and started my walk, I get a text from my sister telling me that my brother had texted her saying my dad had stopped breathing and she was getting me an Uber to take me back to the hospital shortly before 10pm.
I arrived at the hospital around 11pm and went into the waiting room to see a doctor talking to my sister and brother, updating my dad's situation. They were able to revive him but he was now on life support. The only thing keeping him alive was a machine and they tried their best to explain to us the situation he was in. It didn't look good as the doctor was telling us what our options were. My sister called upon a friend who happened to be a doctor and was my dad's patient advocate and we all had a chance to talk about it all. They were all pretty much preparing us for what was likely to be my father's final moments.
After the phone talk, my brother, sister and I talked about what we were going to do and it was at this point that we decided to pull the plug. We felt that my dad had gone through enough pain and we were going to let him go. We called our mom in Indonesia to inform her of dad's predicament and explain our decision to her. The plan now was to go into ICU, with our mom on the phone, so we could all say goodbye together as a family. Just as we entered the ICU, the line was disconnected. Hospitals are notorious for having bad cell phone reception and it was hard enough to get our mom on the line.
The three of us walked into his room to see a small group of nurses and doctors working on him and it was the first time I saw him since I left hours ago and in such contrast. It was unnatural; seeing him hooked up to a machine that was forcefully pumping oxygen into his body. The way his chest moved with every pump, and the amount of lines attached to his body; was surreal. I was introduced, intimately, to mortality and knew it was the end for him. I was ready to say my peace and goodbyes.
I don't think my brother was ready to however. We had another brief talk with the doctor and he as he was asking his questions, it felt to me that my brother was looking for a little bit of hope that my dad would pull through. The doctor again tried to answer the best he could as to the what ifs while still trying to relay the message of being realistic. As far as the possible best case scenario the doctor gave us, it was good enough for my brother and the three of us talked about it and it was then decided that we would give my dad another day to see if his situation had improved. My sister wanted to stay the night but it was advised that it would be best for us to just go home as there would be a lot going on in his room. So we gave our respective phone numbers to the doctor in case things went downhill and we went home. We instructed the doctors that if they were losing my dad, not to resuscitate. No CPR, no shock. Just let him go. Before leaving, I spent a few minutes with my father. I didn't say my goodbyes there. There was a good number of nurses still setting up the machines and I don't know what else. I just had a feeling that this may be the last time I'd see him...alive. I just held his arm and hoped for a miracle.