J and I went yesterday to get D's car from his condo. I knew it had a flat tire, but the battery was also dead. While J was fixing that, a neighbor came by walking her dog and asked "is that Dan?" in regards to J. His back was facing her at the time. My voice just caught in my throat as she walked closer. I somehow managed to get out "no, it's not Dan. He passed away." By then, J had turned around and was right next to me.
I learned that she was the neighbor who called 911 for him. She's also a nurse. She started talking, and I started crying and she stopped. J told her to keep talking, because I wanted to know, and then he walked away. She looked at me and said "he loved you. He did. He talked about you all the time, and he LOVED those kids." And...I lost it. He couldn't remember my phone number, and had told her that me and the kids were his only family. Clearly, neither one thought to look for my number in his phone, which he had with him.
I cannot TELL you the relief I felt to hear her say she was with him that morning. Her voice was so calm and soothing and I'm sure that was comforting to him. And to just know that he wasn't alone. I mean, I knew he wasn't, but she had his best interests in mind. She seemed to be an angel to me. I am just so glad he wasn't alone, and he knew that someone cared.
Her story was very consistent with the story I'd heard from the dr. Another neighbor found him that morning, and then called her (Shannon), to come take a look at him, since she's a nurse. She told me that he was completely coherent, and oriented x 3. And also very very jaundiced already. He told her that he thought he'd had a seizure the night before, in the parking lot, and he fell. She said he had a spot on his forehead and side of his head that was consistent with a fall. He told her he'd been too weak to get inside so crawled in his car for the night. She said the smell of alcohol was heavy on his breath, and that was probably 12 hours without anything to drink. She said he apologized to her for soiling himself. He told Ron that he'd come down to check on his car battery and that he hadn't been out of his condo in 3 days. He fought them on calling 911, said that he just wanted to go back upstairs. She and the other neighbor (Ron) fought right back and called anyway.
She said that he gave her permission to list her name/number as a person to contact. She said that she called him and talked to him while he was in the hospital. he told her he was being transferred to a larger hospital that had the equipment they needed to treat him. He thought he was going to BJC (would have been his preference), but instead he was taken to SLU. She did not know this, so once he was transferred both she and Ron called the area hospitals trying to find him, but they had no luck. Ron tried to track me down, but couldn't remember my first name. They both said they'd tried to figure out how to get in his condo to find contact information from me. After we left, I realized that they could have just went and opened his door, knowing now that he had left it unlocked.
Once she left, I just walked over and collapsed on his car door. I was completely drained and really felt like I'd been hit by a truck. We did exchange phone numbers and she made it clear she was happy to talk with me again. I definitely want to. It was so helpful to talk to her.
Not only do I now know he was in good hands, but I know that he had no ill-will toward me that day. No mention of "don't you dare call Stacey. I don't want her to know." I never thought that was the case, but it had crossed my mind. But it made me feel so much better to know that he talked about me in a positive light. Not for my own selfishness or self-esteem, but simply to know that he still thought, after all that had happened, that I was a good person, and one that he could count on. I made comments in an earlier post that maybe he would have just told me to get the hell away had I shown up at the hospital. I now know that wouldn't have happened, and am grateful for that knowledge, but now I feel so sad that if I had known, he most likely would have welcomed me. I think, simply, that he was very sick. After we talked, and I admitted to his alcoholism, Shannon even said "I bet he just wanted to get back upstairs so it would end there." And I can see that. What I realized later that day was that he had SEEN himself jaundiced. It was very evident to Shannon and Ron, so he HAD to see it when he looked in the mirror. He had to know what was happening, if not immediately, then soon. And I wonder what he thought about that. Did it scare him? Did it worry him? Did it bring relief? Did he even process what was happening?
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