After receiving the call from the surgeon, I felt relief and safety, Chuck had the best care and seemed to be doing ok. It was time to get out of the hospital. I passed all their tests, I took the last of the anti viral drug remsdesivir. They gave me a prescription to finish taking my dosages of the dexamethosone. I was very glad to be released with my oxygen tank in tow. At release I was at 1.5 lpm.

I slept through most of the day, surfacing when Katie called me with updates on Chuck. At 10 pm she called and said that the hospital had called her. If we both agreed to wear full ppe, they would let us come to the hospital to be with him. My heart froze in terror. I could not breathe.

She picked me up, trying to be braver than I.

When we got to the hospital, we were ushered in to his rom in the icu. I will give details of the entire visit in another blog post.

This post is to share my continuiing love story with my husband, Katie’s father.

We were given his status, which was not good. He was in full complete 100% total organ failure. We needed to decide how his last few minutes to hours were to be. This one was easy. Chuck and I had discussed this very thing on our way to Grand Junction only a week before. Katie confirmed what I was thinking, verifying with me that she agreed. Both of us were devastated to be in this place again. We couldn’t believe that we were having to make this decision for another one of our men. How could this be? How could we go from cautious optimism to complete organ failure.

We asked the nurse for help. We wanted to trace his handprints on paper, we cut locks of his hair to keep. Then we had them remove all the wires, cords, equipment and breathing tube. We wanted to touch just him. We massaged his arms, hands, upper body. We soothed his brow, caressed his face. We memorized him into our fingertips. Katie broke down and had to leave. I asked the nurse to help me rearrange his body. Then I crawled into bed with him to snuggle him one last time. Snuggling, our favorite pasttime, the sacred way to connect with each other. When they had removed this breathing tube, he began to snore softly. I laid my head on his chest and felt his breathing, comforted by his snores. I might have dozed off to the steady rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat. I came to awareness that he was taking longer and longer between breaths. And then, they stopped. I looked up and realized that he was gone. Gone. Gone.

I stayed with him for awhile, letting it sink in. I whispered last words, hoping that he could still hear me. I told him to get with Charlie right away, that Char would help him transition well I told him to give Char lots of hugs. I prayed to Charlie to quick find his Dad, to help him not be scared or frightenend. I pleaded with them both to go into their next adventures together and with joy and happiness. And then, I stumbled out, found my daughter and we left that place.