D'Lynn Joy Deines Gschwend

Friday & Saturday (July 11 & 12)
D’Lynn sat up 5 times over these two days. She was getting ready for physical therapy that was scheduled to begin on Monday.

Sunday (July 13)
D’Lynn was even less responsive that usual. If I spoke her name firmly she would respond and would answer basic questions.

Monday (July 14)
Called the doctor regarding antibiotics to deal with possible infection. White blood count was very high and she had a slight fever. Nurse replied with message to take D’Lynn to the hospital for blood tests. I requested pre-authorization to have D’Lynn transported to the hospital using non-emergency transportation. I stopped by doctors office just after they closed and talked to nurse about having blood tests done by the Home Care nurse. She said she would pass that along to the doctor.

Tuesday Morning (July 15)
Nurse called first thing to say that blood tests would be OK through the Home Care nurse and that a trip to the hospital would not be necessary. She then indicated that the doctor would prefer for D’Lynn to go to the hospital and be admitted so they could act immediately depending on what results were found. I then decided to have D’Lynn taken to the hospital, deferring to the doctors preference. I called D’Lynn’s parents letting them know that we planned to take D’Lynn to the hospital. Shortly thereafter, I received the pre-authorization code for the non-emergency transportation. Shortly before noon, I received a call from the doctor. He had talked to the doctor at the hospital and after conferring they determined that there would be no added value in having D’Lynn admitted. Any treatment path could be completed at home. The Home Care nurse came by around noon to draw blood samples. I called D’Lynn’s parents letting them know that we were not going to the hospital after all.

In the early evening, something suddenly changed with D’Lynn. Basically she begin having a seizure-like, rhythmic “twitch” and her eyes were wide open. This seemed like a mild version of what she went through when they brought her home early from the hospital on May 9th – stiff movements, and her eyes were not “normal”. After just a few minutes, some foam came from her mouth. After a few more minutes the foam had a reddish color. This was not anything like when she was bleeding from her mouth, but I was still very concerned. I called the doctor’s office and the nurse recommended getting her to the hospital. I called the non-emergency transportation (that had already been approved). I called D’Lynn’s parents to give them the update. I also called Melody and she began to drive down from Salt Lake. The paramedics came and took D’Lynn to the hospital.

In the hospital, the doctor got me in touch with our doctor. We talked about what was going on – basically this was an expected seizure reaction to the high bilirubin levels over an extended period of time (ranging between 11-20+ for many weeks), and that it could be controlled using Ativan. We had that at home, and he reiterated that there would be no value in having her admitted – we would just have to deal once again with trying to get her discharged and back home again, and this could take another month or so. Therefore we decided, along with the ER doctor, that the best thing would be to have her transported back home.

The symptoms had become mild, but she was still “twitching”. After about an hour or so at home I was preparing to give her some more Ativan and do other things from my checklist. It was just about 10:55 pm. Our son-in-law mentioned that she had gotten quieter and seemed to be more peaceful. Melody was sitting with D’Lynn and holding her hand. She had commented that her hands were feeling a bit clammy. At that point, I believe I heard Melody tell her mom to breathe. I came right in and D’Lynn was very still. Melody said she had watched her eyes dilate and that she was no longer breathing. She looked peaceful, and didn’t show any signs of distress or pain. We watched her and talked softly to her for a few minutes, stroking her hair.

At one point leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead and told her “thank you”. I was thanking her for 34 incredible years of being a part of my life; for agreeing to “grow up with me” (when we married she was 17 and I was barely 19); for allowing me the privilege of caring for her all those years, and especially the past year; I was thanking her for faithfully serving God, choosing life, and living it to the fullest. I realized that she indeed was no longer in pain and was now in a much better place. After a few more moments I looked deeply into her eyes for the last time and carefully closed her eyelids. I felt a kind of peace enveloping me and I knew that this was just the next step. Yes, I began missing her and there were tears, but it was OK. A bit later I saw my checklist on the table and realized there was nothing left for me to do, nothing to check off - she did not need my physical assistance any more. More tears, but it was still OK.

A few months earlier I had checked with the Home Care office about what I should do if D’Lynn passed away in the middle of the night. They said I should contact the on-call Home Care nurse and they would know what to do. I placed the call to have the nurse call back. I then called D’Lynn’s parents to notify them. I also called our daughter, Rena, D’Lynn’s brother, my step-mom, and several local friends.

The Home Care nurse called back in about 20 minutes and basically told me to just call 911! That turned out to be a blessing because that gave us additional time to process and absorb what was happening. We didn’t feel rushed or pressured – things were allowed to progress at a natural, casual pace. D’Lynn was fine – there was no fear, no need to panic!

Melody had called some of her friends, and two of them began driving down from Salt Lake right away. They came down to be with us and it was a tremendous gift and blessing.

Shortly after the call to 911, a police officer arrived followed shortly by the paramedics – the same ones who had taken D’Lynn to the hospital earlier that evening. They all came in and respectfully lingered near her. They completed the necessary confirmation of death and slowly moved toward the door. They paused again in front of the picture from our cruise, commenting on how beautiful she is. We thanked them, shook their hands and said goodbye. Later the police officer commented that he had never seen all the paramedics come in just to confirm a death – usually just one comes in, confirms, and leaves. This was a tribute to the character of the paramedics, and the special nature and spirit of D’Lynn that drew people to her in life, and even at her death.

The officer then asked if we had called a funeral home. I didn’t know I needed to, so we got the phone book and made the call. They said it would be about 45 minutes or so before they got there. Again, we were blessed with additional time to reflect. They arrived and were very polite and respectful. We asked if they had any brochures, handouts or price lists that we could review, and they were caught off guard. I guess that typically they encounter people in such a state of distress that it’s not appropriate to be handing out literature. They are there to remove the body and make arrangements to visit with the family at a later time. We set an appointment for Thursday afternoon. At first I wanted an appointment on Wednesday, but after a few moments I realized that Thursday would be fine.

As they got her body onto the stretcher in front of the house, they indicated that they “would take good care of her.” I smiled, thanked them, and said, “I know you will take good care of her body, but she isn’t there anymore. She is already being taken care of.” I realized all over again that my task of taking care of D’Lynn had ended and she is now in far better hands. More tears, and it was more than OK!