The last days of Auntie Vera

"I can't believe this is happening." Those were the words that Auntie Vera kept on repeating when she was given the news that she would not be going home from the hospital.

Auntie Vera was taken to emergency at VGH on Saturday, May 21st by Uncle Bill, Auntie Mary, & Chrissy. She hadn't been eating well, was tired and her colouring was off. Everyone thought she would just have some routine blood tests to find out what was going on. The doctors knew that something was up with her liver because of her jaundice. She either had an infection, cancer or liver failure. But on Tuesday, we got the worst of the options - liver failure. My mom was in the room when Auntie V was told that she was not going to leave the hospital, and would only have a few days (by a doctor I will nickname Doogie Howser). Time to call the family together.

When my mom called me that day, she couldn't say the words. I said to my mom, "What? Just tell me. Just spit it out." A very emotional phone call. I broke down in tears in front of my little Madison.

Lots of relatives came by the hospital. Auntie Vera seemed in good spirits, talking to people, joking around. I was told that she even commented on Auntie Helen wearing a new jacket. But she also told people that she was not coming out of the hospital and "I can't believe this is happening." That was Wednesday.

I didn't get to the hospital until Thursday around 12:30pm to a waiting room full of relatives getting an update from the doctor. Auntie Vera was diagnosed with auto-immune hepatitis. And Chrissy had to make some big decisions.
I stepped out to see Auntie Vera. She was with cousin Greg, and getting ready to be rolled downstairs for a CT Scan. Greg told her, "DeeDee's here". "Dee Dee!", she said weakly. "Hi Auntie Vera. I have a picture to show you." I gave her a picture from my dad's birthday - the last picture of the 7 siblings. I wished I had gotten it to her earlier. She had been wanting a copy for weeks. She held the picture up with her left hand and kept saying, "Beautiful, so beautiful." Those were the last clear words I heard her say. She loved the picture so much that she wouldn't let go of it.
That was the first time I saw her, and I was saddened by what I saw. Was it not yesterday that everyone was telling me that she was talking to people? I remember I just grabbed Greg's hand as we escorted her to the CT Scan. Tears were welling up.
When Greg and I were with her waiting for the CT Scan, she was uncomfortable with the oxygen tube in her nose. She kept on trying to take it off. I kept on putting it back on. Greg teased her about her hair and other funny things. She seemed to get his jokes, and weakly responded...so there were moments of coherency.
But for the most part, she seemed dazed and confused. She was nothing like the day before as described by my relatives.

I left her with Greg and went back upstairs to get updates from the family and Dr. Henry Fung (a family friend who has given incredible guidance to us in regards to Auntie V's condition). It was too hard for me to see her in that weakened state. Little did I know, that she would slip so fast. It would only get worse. In hindsight, I wish I spent less time listening to the doctor's updates and more time at her bedside when she was somewhat coherent. It would be only a matter of hours before she would be unconscious and not be the Auntie Vera that I knew & loved.

She was moved from the General Surgery on the 9th floor to the Acute Medical Unit on the 10th. They had found dark, coffee-brown coloured blood in her NG tube which came from her stomache. But before she moved to the 10th floor, all of us relatives & friends surrounded her bed to pray for her. There was about 15 of us circled around her bed. Cousin Brian and Auntie Mirian led us in prayer. She still had her signature big glasses on, and her diamond ring (although her diamond studs were removed for her head CT). She even had nicely manicured nails (fingers and toes) in pearly gray nail polish. She always had style.

Shortly after our circle of prayer (and I don't remember at what point), I had a rare moment alone with her. Rare because there were so many relatives visiting her. I don't even know how I had that opportunity with her. I can't recall why I was in the room with her at that time. Where was everyone else? I asked her if she would like Jesus in her heart and the assurances of Heaven. I needed to be deliberate - maybe it was for my own peace of mind - but there was no time to waste. I thought that she replied "No thank you" but I wasn't sure. She was pretty incoherent at that time. But she also had an NG tube which might have caused her some discomfort. Anyways, she kept on repeating to me whatever she was trying to say. I wish I knew what it was. So I just said, "Auntie V, I am going to pray for you. And you don't have to repeat after me but say YES, when I ask." So I prayed the salvation prayer and after each line, I would ask, "YES?" And Auntie V would say "YES".

Then everyone started coming back, and I whispered in her ear before she was moved to the 10th floor, "remember our prayer, Auntie V".

That was the last time I saw her somewhat conscious.

Geoff, Michael, Jaclyn, my dad and I went back to the hospital after dinner. Auntie V was "sleeping" already at that point and her breathing was laboured and heavy.
Michael and I decided to take Jaclyn as she (and Madison) had been crying during the day asking to see Auntie V. We tried to prepare her but she was scared nonetheless. Auntie V had an NG tube and IV tubes going into her and she was not awake. Jaclyn wouldn't go to her bedside and just hid her head in Michael's chest.
My dad went up to her and said, "Vera, VERA, it's me Jack. I am here." Then he just sat by her bed and told us not to wake her up.
When we left the hospital, my dad said, "I want to see Vera everyday."

Later that night, she was moved to ICU on the 2nd floor, unconscious and put on a respirator. Bed 21 by the window.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday...all seemed to run together. So many family members in and out of the waiting room. Waiting. Waiting. Everyone waiting. Waiting for news. Waiting for hope. Waiting for a miracle.

On Friday night, Madison sobbed profusely telling me that it was not fair that Jaclyn and all the Lee Family got to see Auntie Vera, and that she misses & loves her. "I don't want her to die because Uncle George died", she told me. I felt her pain and sorrow. I didn't know that she would understand so much at the age of 4. She and Auntie V had a special connection. They really loved each other. Madison was the only one that called her Auntie Vera (when everyone else called her Auntie V). Madison always gave Auntie V a big hug. I wish that I had taken her to the hospital but she had a cough and she's so young. But it was too late; Auntie V was already on a respirator in ICU; and I definitely didn't want Madison to see Auntie V like that. She was beyond recognition. Tubes everywhere, bruises on her arm, and she was bloated from all the fluids they were pumping into her.

My dad, who's short-term memory is sketchy these days, seemed to know that something was wrong with Auntie V. One time when I updated him, he said sadly, "Ohhhhh...she took such good care of all of us". Dad would ask me everytime I walked by him how she was, whether she was conscious, whether she was still sleeping. And everytime, it would break my heart to have to tell him the sad news. It's almost like Groundhog Day - having to relive and re-feel the bad news I had to deliver each time he would ask. At one time, I asked him, "Do you really want to know?" And he said, "Yes, I should know what's going on." He wouldn't cry but he looked so sad, staring up at the ceiling, staring into space, reflecting on his older sister & her situation. I could see the pain and sadness in his eyes.

I didn't take dad to the hospital on Friday. I wasn't sure if he would want to see her in ICU with tubes all over the place. But I went back to the hospital quite often. Had time with Auntie V with cousin Leslie. Later on in the day, there was a meeting with the ICU doctor and Nurse Ghazaleh. The medical team was so informative and so caring. Michael was there to explain things to us in more laymen terms.

Michael and I went back to the hospital at 10pm. We weren't expecting anyone there but if so, we heard from Uncle Bill that Ron was the last one there as Uncle Bill had taken Chrissy to Auntie V's condo to get some sleep. We were surprised to see Chrissy in the waiting room with her friend, Judith. So we just lounged with them in the waiting room until almost 3am when we took them to Auntie V's to sleep. We talked about Mexico, laughed about my granny underwear and then shared deeper things about what's going on with Auntie Vera, the choices that Chrissy had to make, etc. Hard questions with no answers or decisions that only Chrissy could make. Things were said that night that most people would just think about but wouldn't dare say out loud. We talked about those hard things without filters.

Saturday: morning prayer meeting at Uncle Bill's. More hospital visits. Geoff, mom and I took dad to the hospital after we had lunch. When I took dad into the ICU, he didn't recognize her. He looked at me and said, "This is Vera?!!" Then he went right up to her and spoke clearly & loudly, "Vera, VERA. It's me, Jack. I am here." And when there was no response, he quietly said to her, "It's okay...just rest." And then he just sat by her bed and watched her. After a few moments, I said, "Okay, dad, let's go. Do you want to go or wait here?" He wanted to wait by his sister's bedside. So I left him to be alone with her.
(Michael had taken the girls out for the day and then to a sleepover at a friend's house so that mom, dad, Geoff and I could spend time together and with Auntie V.)

Sunday: Tenth Ave Alliance with Geoff. I couldn't sing one song. All the words wanted to make me cry. Every word was true and deeply, deeply felt, that God is faithful. Afterwards, we hung out at Granville Island for coffee and ham & cheese sandwich. Just me and him. I hadn't spent quality with Geoff in years because of the kids. We just sat on a bench overlooking False Creek, enjoyed the sunshine, watched the water taxis & kayakers, and talked about Auntie V, and our wishes should we be in the similar situation as her.
Geoff and I went back to the hospital. Hung out with Chrissy who was alone at the time. She told us that Auntie Vera had been moved to a private ICU room. Bed 26 by the window. She always loved rooms with a view...just like her penthouse.
She was continuing to decline and had less than 24 hours to live.
Geoff and I said our goodbyes to her.
(In the afternoon, I took a break by going to Kung Fu Panda 2 with Michael, Jaclyn and Madison and friends. It was nice to escape and not have to feel the sorrow for just a couple of hours.)

Monday: I wasn't planning to visit her today. I had said my goodbyes yesterday with my brother. But I couldn't stay away. The family was called for a meeting with the ICU doctor at 12:30pm. Uncle Bob, Auntie Lil, Uncle Bill, Auntie Mirian, Auntie Maye, Auntie Mary, Peter, Michael, Ron, Chrissy and I were there. Henry Fung as well. The medical team had done all that they could do for Auntie V. Not only was her liver not functioning, but her kidneys as well. Time to let her go. The news was not a surprise but sad nonetheless. Any little glimmers of hope we had was stripped away at that meeting.

One of the last things said in our family gathering was by Uncle Bill. He comforted us by saying that Auntie Vera had faith in Christ and to keep her going (on the ventilator) would only be for us because we want to spend more time with her, we want her to be alive and to still be with us. Auntie Maye had said the other day, "She is not in pain but we are." Yes, we are in pain. Deep, deep pain.

After all the other relatives had gone to visit her (in groups of 4), Michael and I went in. We had to put on a gown and wear gloves as Auntie V had caught an MRSA infection. This would be the last time I would see her. I felt at peace knowing that she was going to be with the Lord and with the two Georges, Yeh-Yeh, Yen-Yen and Steffie. She put up a good fight but it was time for her to go. Chrissy and Ron came in shortly after. We laughed about her baking us lots of cookies in Heaven. When Michael and I left the room just before 2pm, I had to take one last look and saw Ron & Chrissy looking so sad but at peace - it was a bittersweet moment. The look of love they had towards Auntie Vera was a tender sight that will be etched in my memory forever.

Auntie V passed away around 3:20pm on Memorial Day, May 30, 2011, 5 minutes after they took her off the respirator.

When we got back home to Kirkland, I told the girls that Auntie Vera died. Jaclyn screamed, "Who told you?" I said that Auntie Debbie told me. Jaclyn replied, "NOOOOOOOOOO...what if she's wrong? She's wrong. I want her to be wrong!"

The ache in my heart is sometimes unbearable. Auntie Vera was close to me - to all of us in the Lee Family - like a mother. Even before my grandfather passed away in 1994, Auntie V was the glue that held us together. She united the Lee Family. She was the matriarch of the Lee Clan. Every single family member, without one doubt, had a unique closeness to her that was different than with any other relative. For her whole life, she deeply and unconditionally loved each and every one of us. While she may not have expressed that love in words, her actions spoke loud & clear. Just like my dad said, "She took such good care of ALL of us".