|
|
|
The song heard on this page is "One Last Night", written by David Kaufman
in memory of Floyd Cramer. My Last Words to Gregory Greg, the day you were first diagnosed, you said that you’d rather just die than have to suffer through an illness. You said, “Why don’t they just shoot me up with morphine, and get it over with? The next day, you felt like there was hope for a cure, and you were willing to fight. Throughout your illness and treatment, I always gave you the choice of whether of not to continue. I told you that you could stop at any time if things were too hard for you. I promised you that I’d always tell you what they wanted to do, and what the side effects, risks, and complications were. I promised you that I wouldn’t lie if something was going to hurt. As long as there was hope, you wanted to keep on fighting. You fought the good fight, like a valiant soldier, but now, they’re saying that there isn’t any hope left for your survival. Your kidneys have failed, your liver and heart are failing, and your lungs have failed. Even if your lungs were your only problem, they say that you couldn’t survive more than a few days. We could wait until they gave out completely, but that might mean another chest tube and more pain, and I don’t think you’d want that. We could do what you asked the day you were diagnosed, and let you die without any more suffering. I think that’s what you’d prefer, so that’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to help you go to sleep, then we’re going to turn off the ventilator. You won’t feel anything, and you won’t have any desire to breathe. You’ll just go to sleep, you’ll quit breathing, and then your heart will stop. You won’t feel any pain, and you won’t feel hungry for air. Greg, I’ve been with you through your whole illness, and I want to remember all the good times we’ve shared. I don’t want to remember your death, so I won’t be in the room when they turn off the vent, so I want to say goodbye now. Daddy, Angela, William, and everyone else will be here with you, but this will be the last time I’m here with you. I know that you love me, and I know that you know that I will always love you. I hope you will forgive me someday if I’ve done the wrong thing. Thank you for being a good son to Daddy and me. Thank you for being a good brother to Angela and William. Thank you for being a good friend to Joey, Samil, & Jason. Thank you for being a good friend to everyone who met you. Thank you for your smile, and for sharing yourself with me. You are an angel. You have always been an angel. When you get to Heaven, will you watch over us all and be our guardian angel? When you get to Heaven, please say “Hello” to Papa for me. Also, say “Hello” to Grandpa and Grandma Seegren, Nanny, Nana, Tode, Billie, and everyone else. I hope someday I’ll see you there, so we can be together again. I will always love you and cherish you. Goodbye Greg. I’m going to miss you. As soon as I finished saying these words, Greg’s cardiac monitor started showing changes that indicated his heart was failing. His blood oxygen saturation started falling as well. I opened Greg’s eyelids, and his eyes, which had previously looked into mine, now held an empty, fixed stare. A moment later, our family and friends came in, followed by the doctor. I retreated to the family waiting room I had been sleeping in. After a few minutes, they came in to tell me that Greg’s suffering was all over. They never gave him any morphine, and they never turned off the ventilator, as they didn't need to. As soon as they started barely turning down the ventilator settings, Greg's heart stopped, and he died. (The reason they turned down the ventilator settings was to lower his oxygen level and raise his carbon dioxide level, which is more effective than morphine and puts people in a coma. Greg died immediately, though, and probably would have died at that moment anyway, even if they hadn't touched the settings.)
|
|
Sign my guest book! www dot gregsleukemiajournal dot com
forward- slash guest dot htm Richard Simpson is Greg's bone marrow donor Assistance with the web pages was provided by
George Kasica, The Celestis Foundation is seeking your support to offset some of the costs of fulfilling Greg Brown's dream of space flight. Contributions of any amount will help the Foundation to continue the Honorary Commemorative Spaceflight program on the next Celestis launch. Your contribution is not tax deductible, but is greatly appreciated. Please send your contributions to: The Greg Brown Fund All contributions is excess of actual launch related expenses will be donated to the National Marrow Donor Program.
Jill E. McGovern, PH.D. Send us E-Mail! gregb at netwrx1.net Last Updated: 02/11/2009 19:01 |
