My Mother Has Passed Away
- May 04, 2011
- 5 comments
A day I have dreaded since I was a kid has arrived much, much earlier than expected. My mother, Beverly Ruzin, passed away on Friday, April 29, 2011. She died from pulmonary fibrosis, which is a lung disease. It wasn’t caught until she was already in the final stages.
She first went to the hospital at the end of March, and most of us thought it was some kind of bad lung infection, including Mom. The doctor did some tests and immediately diagnosed it as stage 4 pulmonary fibrosis and said her only option was a lung transplant.
In order to diagnose it, they did a lung biopsy. After the surgery, Mom had to have a chest tube for a few days. When they took the chest tube out, all of us were excited expecting her to be able to recover well enough to get evaluated for the lung transplant, but later that day Mom took a huge step backward. I thought she was going to die that day, but the hospital saved her life. They had to move her to ICU and put her on a ventilator, and the doctor said only 10% of people make it off of the ventilator. Things looked very grim.
While I was there, I visited her every day. She couldn’t talk anymore because of the ventilator tube in her throat, but she would write things down on paper every now and then. She kept asking how bad she was and how long she had to live, but we would always tell her to not worry about that, to just rest. She would squeeze my hand over and over like she might not be able to do it ever again.
I had to head back to Austin to do some work, but planned on heading back up there to see her again. My sisters and father visited her every day, but it was starting to wear them down. It’s a 40 minute drive each way.
I kept in touch with Dad often while I was away. Mom would have her good days and her bad days, but she just couldn’t seem to recover enough to get off of the ventilator. She was in ICU for around two weeks, and then they moved her to a long-term stay facility at another hospital. That seemed to trigger something in Mom, and she started going downhill. I could hear it in Dad’s voice too whenever I talked to him. Things were starting to look bad.
Over the Easter holiday I decided I was going to head back up there the following Thursday. It turns out my aunt (my Mom’s sister) and uncle also were planning on heading up there that day, so we rode together.
Mom died the next day…
We got a call that morning from her nurse that she was not doing well at all, and that we needed to get down there. The mood went from happy to shocked in a split second and the car ride down there was spent deciding whether we would take her off of the machines if there was no hope. When we got there, I could already tell she wasn’t there anymore. There was no movement, no recognition, nothing. We all talked to her, but she never showed any signs of being there. It was the machines that were basically keeping her body alive.
The doctor came in and told us that not only were her lungs getting worse, but that she had pneumonia and soon her organs would start shutting down. We all knew at that point there was no hope.
It was surprisingly easy for me to make the decision to take her off of the machines. I would rather she passed away than suffer any longer. She had been in the hospital for 30 days exactly by then, and things were going downhill rapidly. Each of the family members agreed to it after some discussion, and they took her off of the machines and made her as comfortable as possible. She was gone in about 5-10 minutes.
I had been gearing my mind up for the possibility she might die, but you can never fully prepare for something like that. That whole weekend was like a bad dream. I didn’t sleep good for several nights in a row.
Picking out a casket made things really start to sink in. We picked a beautiful, cedar casket. Mom loved cedar, so as soon as we saw it, we knew it was the right one. It wasn’t gaudy or tacky. It had a simple embroidered design of a cedar forest on the inside.
I’ve been to a few funerals before, and I hate when the person doesn’t look right. They look like wax copies or something. Thankfully Mother looked normal. They didn’t overdo the makeup and they got her hair exactly right. She looked like she was just sleeping.
A lot of people showed up for the wake, which was healing in a way. Seeing so many people show up to give their respects and condolences made it clear that Mom never met a stranger. She was friendly and loving to everyone she met.
My mother was the administrative assistant to the county judge for over 13 years. She basically ran the county and did a very good job. She took pride in her work and made meticulous notes for her successor. On the day of Mom’s funeral, they shut the court house down for the day. The road department also shut down.
So many people showed up to the funeral there were people standing in the back. So many people had given flowers that they went from the floor to nearly the ceiling. Policemen in full dress uniform were there. The mayor of the town was there. Her pallbearers were the current county judge, the former county judge, the chief of police, the former county sheriff and two childhood friends.
When we had to give our final goodbyes, my Dad really broke down. It was heartbreaking. I told her I loved her and that we’d see her again soon.
The funeral procession was enormous. I couldn’t see the end of it. One thing that really impressed me was that people would stop as we passed. On both sides of the road, even on the four-lane highway. Even 18 wheelers stopped. I guess it’s a known thing to do in that part of the country because you wouldn’t see something like that here. It was touching to see random strangers showing respect that way.
The graveside service was short. Thankfully they lowered her into the ground when we were all in the church for dinner. I couldn’t have watched that.
As hard as it is to know my mother is no longer here, I’m at peace. She’s no longer suffering. She had so many health issues before this happened: osteoporosis, arthritis, fatty tumors in her legs, etc. Now that’s all behind her. She’s at rest.
This Mother’s Day is going to suck badly, but I know time will eventually dull the sadness. I wish Mom could’ve seen me get married eventually, or seen her first grand-baby in a few months, but it just didn’t work out that way.
I always made a point of telling Mom that I loved her and she did the same for all of us. The last thing she heard from me in the hospital was “I love you, Mom”.
I’m going to miss her so much.
Thanks for the kind words, Mandy. The staff at St. Michael’s is amazing. Everyone we met that worked with Mom was top-notch. It helped a lot knowing that Mom was surrounded by people that weren’t just doing their job, but really cared about her. It’s easy to see when someone is just doing their job and when they genuinely care for their patient.
I tried striking up conversations with all of Mom’s nurses that I met to get to know them better. It helped ease my mind about leaving Mom.
All of that to say keep up the great work! Go the extra mile with patients and their families. It makes a huge difference.
Obed Tewes
June 24, 2011
faiyaz rokadia
September 21, 2011
hi chris, this is faiyaz from INDIA, i can exactly imagine what you have gone through because just 4 days back on 15th September 2011 my mother passed away from lung fibrosis and she was in hospital on same ventilator for 3 weeks. i cudnt stop cryng same my father and brother and sisters..i am so damn upset..i din knew if this type of patient goes on ventilator the chances are null of coming back :((
I just wanted to say how sorry I am for the loss of your mother! I am the student nurse that helped take care of her the day she was put on a ventilator and transferred to ICU. Although I never knew what kind of person she was, it seems as though she touched many lives. I became attached to your family in an emotional way through all of this and have wondered so many times about her. I decided to do a search on her name just to see and found your blog. I wanted to come check on her the last day we were at the hospital but my instructor said she would have to go with me and was never available. You and your family will be in my prayers during this time. God bless you all!!—Mandy