Cloaked in Kindness

Palliative care (from Latin palliare, to cloak) is any form of medical care or treatment that concentrates on reducing the severity of disease symptoms, rather than striving to halt, delay, or reverse progression of the disease itself or provide a cure. The goal is to prevent and relieve suffering and to improve quality of life for people facing serious, complex illness.”

— Definition taken from Wikipedia

It’s just after midnight, early Thursday morning. I have to say that I feel like I’ve aged a whole month over the past few days … and probably three of those “weeks” were as a result of the last 36 hours.

Meeting Emila for the first time ... wish it was under better circumstances

First of all, I swear … I think between Hubby & I, we’ve had a combined total of 6 hours of sleep since Sunday night. Pure exhaustion has taken over at this time and auto-pilot mode kicked in by Tuesday evening.

First off, it’s a sad state of affairs when … getting into our car Tuesday evening for a quick jaunt out of the hospital for a much-needed shower and some fresh air … I actually commented that the car seat had been the most comfortable thing I had sat in all day long.

Secondly, squishing yourself (well, actually my big bootie) onto a small cushioned foot stool just so that I can feel as if I was laying horizontally on a bed is not very comfortable. So much for that awesome full-body massage Hubby and I had this past Saturday …

But mostly, I think the sleep deprivation was more because of the constant anxiety of having my Dad in the ICU and not knowing exactly what could happen next. It was the constant worry that Dad’s prognosis was not (ever) going to functionally improve. It was the fear that we wouldn’t know exactly how my Dad wanted us to proceed in his care … especially because he wasn’t “awake” to tell us. And even moreso, because my Dad did not have any Advanced Directives. He had not written down any of his wishes for us.

By Tuesday afternoon Mom, Dr. Bro and I had a very frank discussion about what we all felt should happen next. We discussed, as his immediate next of kins, what we all believed Dad would have wanted us to do. The good thing was that he had had the same discussion with all of us at one time or another. The sad thing was knowing that if we respected his wishes, we would run the risk of losing him sooner than we were ready to let him go.

Holding Little Em for the first time

In the end … and after discussion with the rest of my Dad’s siblings, we decided that we would respect my Dad’s wishes. We would remove the G*d-awfulBreathing Tube” and see how he did without the respirator. We would not … other than provide comfort measures only … perform any extraordinary measures to extend his life.

So today, just before noon, we removed the breathing tube. And the entire family stood around him praying … saying our good-byes to the incredible man we all loved so fiercely. And we waited … and waited.

And as of right now … we’re continuing to wait. Except we’re no longer in the ICU … we’re in the hospital’s Palliative Care/Hospice floor. Which is where we’ll continue to be until Dad’s finally at rest … where I hope his grand-furbaby Rain is waiting patiently to cuddle next to him.

Thank you all for for “cloaking” us with your kind prayers and positive vibes .. it means the world to me and my family.


Related Posts:

It’s Hard To Be Brave

No More Rain

Deep Breaths

Up In Smoke

Who’s Your Daddy?

The proud Auntie & Uncle ... Don't we ALL look exhausted in this photo?

15 Replies to “Cloaked in Kindness”

  1. I talked to Bobby earlier tonight. My thoughts are with you and everyone. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call.

    Love you, guys.

  2. Emily – I am so sorry for what you are going through, but I’m glad you have your family there to walk through this journey together, to make decisions together, and to love your dad as he travels from this world to the next. I have no doubt that Rain will be an angel to make him feel welcome. I am praying for strength and grace for you, and your entire family. Love you Em!

  3. Emily – I am so sorry for you and your family. I am thinking of you all today and praying for you. I know how difficult the waiting is because we traveled the same road with my dad. I am so glad you have your husband and family there for support, remember to lean on them when you need some strength. The angels are watching over you all.

  4. I am so sorry Emily. I have to say that you have such a wonderful family. All of you have made such a difficult decision that will bring peace for your dad. Rain will be there for him. I just think of how wonderful it will be for the cat to just jump into his lap. I am so sorry this is happening.

  5. Getting choked up reading this. Many warm (((hugs))) & thoughts are being sent your way. I hope whatever time you have left with your dad is full of peace & love.

  6. Dear Emily & Family,
    We’re so sorry to learn of your father’s condition. Our hearts and prayers are with all of you in these trying times. Remember that the family’s decision is the right one at that moment. In the Book of Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Never rely on what you think you know. Remember the Lord in everything you do, and He will show you the right way.”
    The baby is beautiful and lovely, congratulations to Derek and his wife. May our Lord Jesus Christ grant you all His peace and receive His love. God bless the Maroto Family!
    Tita Violy & Tito Tany

  7. Oh Emily, sending hugs and prayers to you and your family. I am so sorry your family is going through this, but my prayer is for peace and comfort for all of you.

  8. I am so, so sorry. I’m just heartbroken for you – for all of you – and I will continue to send prayers for comfort and peace.


  9. Emily– I am so very sorry. I can only imagibe how hard this must be for you, especially in the wake of losing your cherished furbaby. Having a parent who is sick is so hard, watching them endure any sort of pain is so diificult because we just love them so much. I wish you and your family, especially your dad, peace and comfort in whatever time your dad has left. Thinking of you…

  10. I just found your site and have been working in the wrong direction – I finally got here and after receiving so much comfort from your previous posts I find myself feeling a bit selfish for that because you are the one needing comfort. I wish there were good words for these situations. All I can offer is a “I’m sorry that you are going through this” and I wish you moments of brightness in what are sure to be some dark times.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.