The Death Of A Spouse

(Part 2): Right on the heels of the police came the medics, including one team from the fire station. Our street was full of emergency vehicles. And, (to my surprise) along with the medics came a woman from the Women's Crisis center. She remained with me for the rest of the evening. The medical team asked me if Joe wanted to live, and I showed them his Will and asked them to go ahead and try to save him. (At this point I was worried about brain damage). They pulled his body out of the bathroom into the living room and explained what they were going to do and that I might not want to watch. They worked for a long time, I would say for 20 minutes or so, then they loaded Joe up and took him to the hospital. We live in a very small town, so most facilities are just blocks away from our home.
When the Crisis Lady and I arrived at the hospital, I had a Chaplain and a social worker waiting for me. The Chaplain and the social worker were both female. They led me to the room where Joe was lying, so still and lifeless, but still warm enough to touch. There for about an hour, Joe and I held hands. I stroked his chest hair, (which I had always enjoyed doing) and kissed him several times. It felt strange not to be kissed back. Joe and I had been very much in love. ~Sigh~
After about an hour, it was "business as usual". A goofy looking nurse with wild white hair come crashing into the room and all I could get was, "His eyes! His eyes!! I assured her that Joe was an organ donor, and then I had a choice of 2 mortuaries in town. I knew nothing about either one, so told them to give me the one that had been around the longest. Within minutes the mortuary was there to pick Joe up. They are available 24/7, in good weather and bad. What a profession! But someone has to do it.
Luckily, because our ages, Joe and I both kept our Wills handy and within reach. We had long ago decided on cremation, so I had no problem giving orders for that. Everything was there in black and white and legal. In our case, our Wills were only a few months old.
The next morning, accompanied by all 3 of my sons, we went to the mortuary to finalize any arrangements. Much to my surprise and delight, the gentleman that came down from Portland to pick up Joe for his eye donation was a CODA. He was fluent in ASL, so I could finally relax for a few minutes at least and understand what was going on. This gentleman from the eye bank would take Joe to Portland, remove the parts that they wanted, and would return him to this mortuary the next morning!
Joe was 71 years old and was not a drinker, I was hoping that perhaps they could use his liver. He had great skin, firm and youthful. Later on, I did hear from the eye bank that 2 successful cornea transplants had been done with Joe's corneas. This letter made me so very happy. Joe had not died in vain.
The Crisis lady drove my car home with me as a passenger the night Joe passed away. We were followed by the Chaplain (in a brand new Mercedes SUV) and they stuck around until they felt I was going to be okay and certain that my family was on it's way. The Chaplain and the Social Worker did all of the notifying for me by telephone. Everyone, the police, the medics, the Chaplain and the Social Worker (and SOME of the nurses) went overboard for me to make sure I was okay and that I understood what was going on. I never did ask for an ASL Interpreter, because the only one we have works hard during the day and I did not want her to be awakened in the middle of the night!
(To be continued)