Death And Dying For Carol, The One I Loved

I Would Do It Again, If I Had To

(Posting again for my new readers. Others, please read again.)

Death and Dying for Carol, the one I loved.

The lovely events of our 62 years together is not included in this writing. This material is about the last few years while Carol was contending with her heart problems.

I could choose a different title for our life together, but it would be something like this: “60 years of living together plus about 2 years of dying together.”

I have to begin with a quotation from Ecclesiastes 3:1, 2: 1 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: 2 a time to be born and a time to die,

I also want this to be known. Proverbs 18:22 He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.

God brought Carol to me to find. Both of these verses fit together in our lives, and especially the last two or three years.

I should have seen what was coming, but I didn’t have the medical knowledge. Before the onset of the major problems, we liked to ride our bicycles together. In time, though, Carol complained of her legs, mostly her upper legs, bothering her. They just seemed to heavy to peddle. Also, on one vacation trip, she could not walk as fast as she usually could. She just tagged along as quickly as she could. Again, it was her legs that seemed not to work as usual. Still later, she had a problem using the vacuum cleaner. She couldn't push it around to do the work. To solve this, I just did the vacuuming.

Over time, the doctors identified the problem and a possible solution. She needed a heart surgery, an open heart surgery.

This was an emotion-filled time for us. Will it work? Will it help?

Recovery was lengthy, so we had no clue about the effectiveness of the surgery.

In time, the surgery healed, and she could be on her feet again, but not doing more than the doctors stated.

The surgery had not rectified the problems but only helped to some degree, so life went on.

In 2005, we returned to Guide Rock, Nebraska, for the fiftieth anniversary of the 1955 class graduation. That is the class she went to school with for eleven of the twelve years. She just took it easy, but she managed it and enjoyed the reunion time with those she had gone to school with so many years before. She noticed that a few of her classmates were not able to make it, and some had already passed away.

Carol retired from teaching at CCS (Crossroads Christian School) at age 71. So, 1938 plus 71 = 2009. This appears to be the date she became the director of Crossroads Food Bank, a position she held for 13 years. The final two years, she spent training Linda S. to become the new director. 2009 + 13 + 2 = 2024. This brings us close to now since Carol died on Nov. 2, 2023.

Going back in time, Carol was to have a special procedure at OHSU Hospital on Nov. 20, 2020. She entered the hospital about one month earlier for the doctor to prepare her body for the procedure. One valve was successfully done, but the other valve was not. This caused her legs and other body areas to continue to collect fluid not circulated by the heart. The valves didn’t keep the blood that came to them. From this time on, she continued to have fluid collect in various parts of her body. The legs were the most painful for her. Her lower legs would swell up with water, and finally, the pores would open, and the fluid would flow out. This was both physically and emotionally painful.

The home Care Nurses would try to keep tight wrappings on her leg below the knees. Carol could not tolerate the tightness of the wrappings and would try to undo them. Usually, this caused more pressure on her legs and, therefore, more pain. Many times, it seemed, she would start to unwrap them in the bathroom or, if no one were in the room where she was, she would sit in her chair and start to unwrap them.

I think, because of the pain, she did not mentally know she was unwrapping them. When asked who unwrapped your legs, she would reply, “I don’t know.” I don’t think she knew; she was causing more pain and misery for herself.

From the time of this procedure at OSHU in 2020 until her death on Nov. 2, 2023, she was usually in some sort of pain. This is the time I would like to express my thoughts.

Our car was the main place to escape from the pain she knew was “in her chair.” It had gotten so that she could not sleep in her bed. Most of the time, if she went to bed, she would be up (in less than an hour) and be back in her chair. Even though there was pain in her chair, there was also a sense of safety.

Much of the time, so that I could hear her, I would sleep on the couch near her. It seems that about 3:30 AM, she would need to make her way with the walker to the bathroom. I set the alarm on my phone for this time so I could be awake if she needed help. Most of the time, she would not need help, but it was assuring for me when I was awake at that time and knew she was back in her chair. (Just a comment here. As I remember it, there were only two times I needed to have our son, David, come in and help her stand up in her walker. The last one was the night before I called the ambulance for the last time. Through all the pain, she showed herself to be strong and determined to be independent.)

I want to get back to our car. It was the safe place to be as an escape from the pain in her chair.

Often, we would take short drives for no real reason, except to get out of the house and away from the chair. They didn’t have to be a long drive in time or distance. Getting out was a relief for her. Much of the time, as I was carefully helping her down the ramp towards the car, I had no idea where I would be going. The thought just had to come to me, and we went.

Some of the places we went were to the first house we lived in when we moved to the Portland area. This was the Milwaukie house. As we slowly drove by, I pointed out some things she might remember, like the tree out in front. It seemed like she didn’t really remember much about it, but she was not complaining as she was not in her chair.

We would drive down to the Milwaukie boat ramp. I used to collect the driftwood from the Milwaukie Boat Ramp area. We had a wood-burning stove for heat there. But time erases some memories. We drove on down to the river park, where the Clackamas River pours into the Willamette River. There were always ducks and geese, and people there to watch. And she was not in her chair.

Other places were more familiar to her. We drove to the church building, which housed the school she taught in for 31 years. Those years brought back her private memories that passed through her mind. At the same place was the food bank she was the director of for about 13 years after she retired from teaching at the school. She was the director of the food bank when she heard about the school closing. This had brought real pain to her heart when that happened. All memories were not pleasant.

Some places, like the Dairy Queen, engender pleasant memories. We like the ice cream with the Butterfingers candy bar broken up in it. (You will remember its name.) She would always get the small size, but even then, sometimes I would have to help her finish it off. We would sit in the parking lot and watch the sun go down. There was no sense in hurrying; the chair would still be there.

The next place is the place she would ask to go. This was Blue Lake Park. This was always relaxing and away from “the chair,” where the pain was. I purchased a year pass so I wouldn’t have to pay the $5 each time we went. They closed the park to do some remodeling in it, so we didn’t get to use it all. It was the place we could just sit, look, and listen. She always wanted me to see if there was a parking spot by the “splash pad.” There was always the possibility that there would be people to watch, kids in the water, and maybe even a goose or two wandering around. And of course, there also were squirrels to see.

I am sure that while she was watching the kids, she was thinking, “I wonder what grade they would be in.” While teaching at Crossroads, she taught in all the grades from Kindergarten through sixth grade.

We could also follow the seasons as they came and went. In the spring, the trees that lined the drive produced purple blossoms. Two weeks later, we could see them start to fall. The boys liked to be able to reach a limb and shake it to see the blossoms float away in the breeze. In two or three weeks, the roadway would be covered with their beauty. All of this to enjoy being together, just looking and being together. But if I had asked her, she would have quietly said, “It is to be away from home where the chair and the pain is just waiting for me.”

The pain always increased in the evening, so this was the time for more Tylenol. Sometimes it took an extra pill.

I have to quit here since I have tears coming to my eyes.

I enjoyed helping her with her meals. Breakfast was always the same. Coffee, a soft fried egg on buttered toast with some jelly on her egg. Marmalade or Strawberry was her favorite. After a while, we had Meals on Wheels delivered. Instead of one of these, she would want an old favorite I had started for her. It consisted of a slice of buttered bread covered with a thick layer of peanut butter with a helping of cream cheese. To top it off, a helping of one of the jellies she enjoyed. She would eat this when nothing else sounded good to her.

Besides the pain in her legs, she had two other difficult worries (pains) that came to her mind. One was being sent to a nursing home to live. I eased her mind on this as I told her I had never thought of this, and as long as I could take care of her at home, a nursing home was out of the question.

The other pain she had was the thought of me having to do so much to care for her. She kept saying, “I am so sorry I am so much trouble for you.” Hearing that caused me a hidden pain, but God had already taken care of that. I was always able to truthfully say, “You are not a problem. It is a joy to do what I do.”

I was thankful that God had put that joy in my heart. I didn’t just manufacture it or fake it. It was my joy. And tears again come to my eyes as I write this.

Many times, in her pain, she wondered why God didn’t just let her die. At these times, we would talk about the verse that mentioned there was a time to be born and a time to die. We couldn’t control the time we were to be born, and God didn’t want us to try to control the time we would die. I tried to remember to ask her how the pain was, so she had enough Tylenol to control the pain. It was always better for us to try to control the pain rather than have to knock the pain down to more manageable levels.

At times in the evenings, I would have my phone read some from the Psalms to us, but she also wanted me to spend some time with my writing on the computer.

Now, in my day-to-day life and living, I try to mention Carol and her death to others. It is at these times that tears come to my eyes, but that is for my healing.

I enjoyed helping her with her meals. Breakfast was always the same: coffee, a soft-fried egg on buttered toast with some jelly on her egg. Marmalade or Strawberry was her favorite. After a while, we had Meals on Wheels delivered. Instead of one of these, she would want an old favorite I had started for her. It consisted of a slice of buttered bread covered with a thick layer of peanut butter, with a helping of cream cheese. To top it off, she enjoyed a helping of one of the jellies. She would eat this when nothing else sounded good to her.

Besides the pain in her legs, she had two other difficult worries (pains) that came to her mind. One was being sent to a nursing home to live. I eased her mind on this as I told her I had never thought of this and that as long as I could take care of her at home, a nursing home was out of the question.

The other pain she had was the thought of me having to do so much to care for her. She kept saying, “I am so sorry I am so much trouble for you.” Hearing that caused me a hidden pain, but God had already taken care of it. I could always truthfully say, “You are not a problem. It is a joy to do what I do.” I was thankful that God had put that joy in my heart. I didn’t just manufacture it or fake it. It was my joy. And tears again come to my eyes as I write this.

Many times, in her pain, she wondered why God didn’t just let her die. At these times, we would talk about the verse that mentioned there was a time to be born and a time to die. We couldn’t control the time we were to be born, and God didn’t want us to try to control the time we would die. I tried to remember to ask her how the pain was so she had enough Tylenol to control the pain. It was always better for us to try to control the pain rather than have to knock the pain down to more manageable levels.

At times in the evenings, I would have my phone read some of the Psalms to us, but she also wanted me to spend some time with my writing on the computer.

Now, in my day-to-day life and living, I try to mention Carol and her death to others. At these times, tears come to my eyes, but that is for my healing.

I think I wrote this in December 2023 or January 2024

Larry E. Whittington

God bless you for spending your time with me.