My brother lost his battle with PPMS in 2002. I never told this story until now, I need to get it out of my mind because it is still bothering me.
He was dx in 1985 and progressed to a wheelchair in 1991. He suffered many symptoms with pain being the most debilitating one. I use to pray to God to take his pain and give it to me. October 18, 2002, he was non-responsive in the morning. I didn't know what to do, so I called 911. The ambulance came and they inserted a breathing tube and took him to the hospital. He was diagnosed with a blood infection called Sepsis.
My last visit was on 10/31/02, he laid in ICU non responsive with all the "Life Support" equipment keeping him alive. As I left at 11 pm, I had a feeling that I said my final goodbye. At 2:00 am I got a call from the hospital that I had to come to the hospital right now. I got to the room, he was laying as I left him, His chest was moving as the breathing tube was supplying air to his body.
I held his hand for just a moment, when the priest came in and started administering the "Last Rights", then the nurse hit a switch on the panel and the breathing machine stopped. That's when I realized he had died before I got there. God rest his soul because his battle is finally over. I just need to let go of these thoughts because I was dx with MS in 1995.
** Moderator's note - Post broken into paragraphs for easier reading. Many people with MS have visual difficulties that prevent them from reading large blocks of print. **
He was dx in 1985 and progressed to a wheelchair in 1991. He suffered many symptoms with pain being the most debilitating one. I use to pray to God to take his pain and give it to me. October 18, 2002, he was non-responsive in the morning. I didn't know what to do, so I called 911. The ambulance came and they inserted a breathing tube and took him to the hospital. He was diagnosed with a blood infection called Sepsis.
My last visit was on 10/31/02, he laid in ICU non responsive with all the "Life Support" equipment keeping him alive. As I left at 11 pm, I had a feeling that I said my final goodbye. At 2:00 am I got a call from the hospital that I had to come to the hospital right now. I got to the room, he was laying as I left him, His chest was moving as the breathing tube was supplying air to his body.
I held his hand for just a moment, when the priest came in and started administering the "Last Rights", then the nurse hit a switch on the panel and the breathing machine stopped. That's when I realized he had died before I got there. God rest his soul because his battle is finally over. I just need to let go of these thoughts because I was dx with MS in 1995.
** Moderator's note - Post broken into paragraphs for easier reading. Many people with MS have visual difficulties that prevent them from reading large blocks of print. **
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