4/29/17: At Peace

Dan passed away early this morning surrounded by the love of his family. He was there as we sang and laughed (and drank whiskey). He waited for his children to assemble, but then slipped away quietly after everyone had gone to sleep. He concluded his email updates to friends by stating, "I am neither worried or afraid." He lived it.

Dying, 4-17-17

Dying 4-17-17

 (Dictation-driven post)

It is like there are three Dan Riordans:

There is one out there, I think of him as Big Dan, floating around

There is the one in the valley I talked about.

Third one  is hard to describe.

 It is like one has to die, but then what hppens to the other two.  Like the Big Dan will be dead, and the third one will be dead, but the one in the valley, flying around with me, will not be dead. Isn’t that odd?

a good day

Got a new hospital bed yesterday, good friends came to discuss spirituality, my doctor paid a house visit to explain the relationship of my meds to my symptoms and to help us set goals for these final weeks. Also got a home health bath.  Felt good. I'm having lots of travel food and travel memories. The travel ones are such fun.. food memories are odd. Yesterday it was baloney and pickle relish sandwiches. I also wander through museums mountains and novels loving the richness in them. Rome and Munich have been leaders. Wish I could go back. Glad that I west was

As this process continues I find I lose more and have give up with dignity. I mean privacy and sense of dignity. I now need assistance changing my Depends..that means someone else removes them gives me a quick clean with a baby wipe.  Often this is a son or daughter. And on the toilet I need to lean against someone as my bowel empties and the another person clean me usually my wife. At first I found these experiences difficult to accept but I have. It makes everyone 's life easier and i have found, oddly, a rewarding level of intimacy and love.  .so, what are dignity and privacy?you have to redefine

Things I learned as I lay dying

This is a dictation-driven post from Dan's bedside today. Part II, so to speak.

I thought the end meant that you just slipped away, the way Zeke did at the end of Parenthood. But that’s not the way it works. I feel like I’m zooming through a thin valley and it’s such a speed I won’t crash into the ground or fly above the edges of the valley. Each time, I see a sort of wall at the end of that valley that I’m going to crash into. But I get to the wall, and there’s an outlet, so I keep zooming along. I’m surprised, I didn’t think I could keep doing that.

The Home Health Nurse was here this week and described my faculties, “His language is good, awareness is good. He could go on for weeks.” I compare it to my friend Joe, who we visited right before he died. There was nothing there, we did not register at all. Two days later – he passed. The mind/language thing is like a railing. So, I’m going along the railing, interestingly, it’s red.  I’m going along that red railing until it breaks – and there I’ll be.

I wonder what that will be like?

(Dictated to Dan's younger son, Simon, on Wednesday, April 12th, 2017 at 6:30pm)

Caring Bridge site

Please be aware of the Caring Bridge site established for Dan (this blog is mentioned there):
https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/danielriordan
You will need to enter an email address, name, and password (and then confirm that you are over 13 and THEN confirm that you are not a robot!)

Thank you!

-Simon

Photos of tumor bulge

Another post on Dan's behalf (from Simon):
Dad requested that we photograph his belly to show the extent of the tumor growth. His daughter, Jane, took these photos and I am publishing them here to maintain the transparency that he has been striving for all along.
I am not sure what causes the smaller red dots that you see, but the tumor bump is especially visible in the first photo. Also visible are the grey Depends that he has been wearing full-time. The band-aid in the second photo is covering the insertion point from his last paracentesis (late last week).
 

Things I learned as I lay dying

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This is a dictation-driven post from Dan's bedside this morning:

• Loves spills forth from everything, splashing everything, joining us all together in one wonderful unit.
• Get rid of all snark – it’s the worst.
• Ya don’t just drift off.
• You’re not ready to go until your mind gets disorganized. Mine isn’t disorganized yet.
• Amazingly, discomforted pain can represent itself as color*. That’s just incredible.
• Every thing, little or small, alive or not alive^, is constantly sending you love - swim in it. We are all a divine union.
• God, I miss food. The other day I really wanted cranberry juice and a white cupcake with chocolate frosting. Sometimes peanut butter and jelly looks so good. I miss… bratwurst, pickle relish, and ketchup. I even miss baloney and pickle relish sandwiches, which I had all through grade school.
• Say ‘thank you’ all the time.

That’s enough for now. Post that on my blog, if you want.

• Last addition – Can’t believe how definite I feel about the things I feel. Nothing is tentative.

Email the list to Mom so she can send it out if she wants. 

Afternoon edits:

• The profuse richness of all things intertwined.
• Makes me feel like Scrooge McDuck. Can't get too serious about this stuff. (6:40pm - request to move this statement)

(Dictated to Dan's younger son, Simon, on Tuesday, April 11th at 10:00am; and 2:00pm)

Notes:

*Yesterday, Dad described pain in his thigh as ‘blue’ and described a recent trip to the bathroom as ‘green.’ This morning, I asked him why he used that description and he said that these two experiences presented as colors to him.

^Dad stumbled upon, and avoided, the word ‘dead’