vakkotaur | Entries tagged with death

Sometime yesterday (Monday, March 27 2017) a cleaner called the neighbor, Dan Sweet, and got no answer and no return call within the usual time. Another call was made to have someone check on the fellow. He was found, sitting in his chair, dead. There were, I am told, no signs of any flailing or anything. He just stopped.

He was in poor health for years. Severely overweight (he weighed at least twice what I do), if not a chain smoker close enough (after each time I was in his place I had to do laundry and take a shower to avoid a smoke-induced headache), and drank quite a bit. I knew he drank, and more than a drink or two a day, but evidently it was around a quart of the hard stuff daily. Yikes!

jmaynard was about to go back to work after lunch and saw a car almost blocking the driveway and other vehicles about and then found out most of what was said above and relayed that to me before leaving - not bothering with asking anyone to move that car. I walked to the nearby Shell station as another neighbor works there, but we just missed each other. After the gal then taking care of the station was finished with a phone call and a few customers, I asked if she knew.. the puzzled look said, "No." and I explained. And then the gal there made a phone call to her boss (my other neighbor) and relayed the news of the day. On my walk to Shell, a hearse drove by. On my walk back from Shell a Sheriff's car drove by. When I got home, there was the hearse, a squad car, two sheriff's cars, and a bunch of other vehicles.

Now I wonder what will happen to/with the house. Dan had been getting the place in order enough for his mother to move in - and she did for a while, but had to move out again as she couldn't deal with Dan all the time. I understand if she would rather not move in, but I hope she does as that would mean a good neighbor. I also wonder what will happen to Dan's dog - a dog I felt sorry for as it needed to run or at least walk a long time and never got the chance.

Between that news and the weather finally not being rainy and damp and miserable, I went for a walk... about an hour overall. More than I'd been expecting, but it won't hurt anything. And I found a chisel lying in the street and removed the tire hazard from the thoroughfare.

Current Mood: sad

On the night of July 4, I was at work and quite busy. When I finally got a break, I noticed a missed call (my cell is set to be silent, and have all non-telephone systems off or as power-conserving as I can set them when working) from earlier, but still late in the evening. My mother and a friend who is, shall we say, no spring chicken (or rooster) were in town or had been planning on it. I feared something had happened to him. Naturally, things ran late and the planned breakfast gathering on the morning of the 5th was far later than hoped. When I got home, jmaynard said something like, "I assume you know about your aunt..." and I cut him off, "I do not know what you are talking about." And then I got the first indication things were Not Good as the reply was of the order, "I'll let your mother tell the story." or such.

Aunt Brenda, the youngest of five children of my maternal grandparents was about two and a half years older than me. So we were close in age, which meant I had more opportunity (and perhaps she more tolerance) to talk with her as I was growing up. I won't say we were terribly close, but she was perhaps closer than my other aunts and my uncle. When I found she was doing some work as a clown (kids parties, etc.) I wanted to talk to her about how some people are creeped out by clowns/mimes/mascots/fursuiters. I don't recall if she agreed with my suspicion that such people were heavily reliant on facial expression and nonverbal cues and when denied that channel, panicked - and were perhaps more likely to be taken in by pathological liars. But she did relate how she'd have fun with them, slowly and quietly maneuvering to be nearby and then doing some sort of reveal. It was only much later that I found (I think, else I really did forget) that she used the name Picadilly, as a clown.

As a child, there was a problem. Her childhood started as normally as any, I suppose, but sometime in the 1970's something went wrong. There was problem with her hip. I am unsure if it was a matter of growth too fast, too slow, or an infection (it was a while ago and I was quite young then). Perhaps it was more correlation than causation, but the only physical incident before this was a cat scratch - and I recall it being dismissed as being relevant, and my father not really believing that. The upshot was that Brenda spent a serious chunk of time in a hospital bed - and then more time not being as active as kid wants to be even at home. There was a lot of reading. And, eventually, swimming as that was something she could do without issues, real or imagined by others.

She eventually became a swim coach, for competitive swimming. She was a coach for "Team Foxjet" in Eden Prairie, MN. And that made the story odd as first relayed, and even stranger later on. Her family went boating every year on the 4th of July holiday. This year was no exception. She and her husband were, for whatever reason, on different boats when Something Happened. There was a wake and a wave or something that resulted in an unusually large wave and the boat she was on rolled enough to throw three of the four people on it into the water. Witness say they saw Brenda swimming - or so was initially relayed. The person operating the boat was in the water, making noise (yelling?) and a kid was floating thanks to the wearing of a life vest. The person not thrown from the boat managed to get control enough to shut things down and call for help. People being attracted to noise, went for the operator first, then the kid when they saw him. And then Brenda was by then not swimming, if she ever had been. I was told that the initial presumption was a heart attack or such from the sudden shock and exertion. After all, she was perhaps the least likely person to drown, unless something else interfered with her ability to swim.

It took a while, and there was a visitation and funeral before the autopsy report was released. And that indicated that there was no heart attack, or any other sign of trauma that might have knocked Brenda out. And that despite what was expected, a capable swimmer did indeed drown in a boating accident. None of the family blames the person operating the boat.

Perhaps the operator got lucky in being able to make sound. The kid was the only one wearing a life preserver[1] - which did its job. I don't know if Brenda would have had a chance if the rescuers had gotten to her earlier or not. I do know I miss her, even if we only saw each rarely of late.

[1] My paternal grandfather had a small boat and nobody got into it without wearing a life preserver. I recall my paternal grandmother seeming to be cautious if not paranoid about many things, but this was his say. His boat, his rules - and safety devices were to be used, period.

Current Mood: sad

For a couple years I had a part-time job, to help fill things in a bit, that took up every other weekend. The person who ran the place had another job as well, helping care for a few folks with some disabilities, including one fellow who had some sort of nerve disorder that kept him in a wheelchair and made it hard for him to communicate. I can only imagine how frustrating that must be, or have been, as his mind worked just fine, but it was trapped in a body that didn't operate very well.

I often wound up baking cakes or brownies, one of the nights before this job and brought them in. Sometimes coworkers would enjoy them, sometimes one would take the works home ("Oh, good, I forgot to make a birthday cake. I can use this!" happened once) and sometimes the manager would take it to the other job for "the guys." It got to where they decided to get me a covered cake pan to make it a bit easier for all of us - it would be less work for me to make a single sheet left in the pan than a layer cake, and it would be simpler to handle for them as it would take less care than worrying about a layer cake sliding around in a plastic cake container of dubious integrity. It worked out quite well.

I found out, eventually, about the wheelchair bound fellow and that any cake or brownie served to him had to be cut up into bite sized pieces (of course) and soaked in milk to make sure it was more than just normal cake soft and easily swallowed. After that I was careful about not adding chips or M&Ms or such to brownies for "the guys" as I might have done, to avoid complicating things.

It eventually occurred to me that a tres leches cake would be ideal - it's already soaking in milk. But such a thing needs refrigeration and generally the fridge didn't have room for a cake pan. That is, until recently, when I made a point of keeping one drawer empty or nearly so. A couple weeks back I made a tres leches cake (from a mix, as usual) to try it myself. I wanted to be sure of things before having anyone else try it, just to be sure of things. It worked quite well, as one would expect from a mix.

Last night I baked another, and this morning took it over with the explanation of why I choose that particular cake rather than something not needing to be kept chilled. And then I was informed, or perhaps re-informed that the fellow I had had in mind had died in November. I might well have been told that back in November and had forgotten or had not realized, by name. exactly who it was. So.. well, I felt rather awkward. However, evidently this fellow's name has been coming up a fair amount of late and the idea that someone was thinking of him will over well with "the guys." I still feel rather odd about this. I am pretty sure I was told but... somehow missed it or forgot in the few months or it didn't register that it was that person. And of course, it's too late for him, no matter how good the intent might have been. So, yeah, it's an awkward feeling.

Current Mood: awkward

Wednesday the fifth I was looking forward to a couple nights off away from any work and pretty much relaxing. Maybe I'd fiddle one computer or another and I'd probably bake a cake. Then the phone rang.

"I think your father is having a heart attack." is the memorable line. Backing a up bit... the night before, all seemed normal. My folks had gone out and they'd split a rib eye and had a pleasant time. The morning started normally as well, with Pa having a nice breakfast. He went into the living room and sat down to watch some TV and, as I have come understand, a bit later while my mother was on the phone with someone he sat up a bit and said "I don't feel so good." He went out and sat on the porch, then moved to the steps (there are but two) and started to lean over. The phone call was ended quickly and, "Should I call 911?" "Yes." She called, and got him onto the ground so if anything had to be done, he was already in position for whatever it might be.

Not too much later he stopped breathing. She did CPR. (Has or had the certification and did work some time at the local hospital.) He started breathing again. About then a police officer showed up and was about to start chest compressions but was stopped, "No, he's breathing." "Yes, he is." And where was the ambulance? A radio call revealed it was about a mile away. Ambulance arrived, not sure if anything was done on the ground, but he was picked up and put into the ambulance and something more was done... doors closed.

That is when I got the phone call. Nothing either of us could do and I was told not to start out for Merrill until she knew more one way or another. When that called ended, she called my sister and I assume a very similar conversation took place.

Meanwhile, in Fairmont... Jay called a fellow he know who knows more than a little of cardiology and said that while he could not be sure, from what was described to him (now third-hand, at least) it sounded like a coronary and tried to be reassuring. That call ended and Jay said, "Go pack." I didn't get it right off, evidently I need to hear the rest, "Go pack (your stuff for the trip to Merrill)." I did, or got most things in place. I decided I really needed a shower if we were going anywhere and so did. And just as I was turning off the water, the phone rang...

It was my cousin Betty who didn't realize (despite efforts on his part to explain) that Jay was not me. So, on speaker, she told Jay and I heard the bad news. Betty was careful not to let my mother do much - no phoning, certainly no driving - just then. More packing followed and various arrangements made to deal with my sudden absence from the area. I didn't say anything right then on LJ or Twitter as I really didn't feel like advertising my absence and I was rather preoccupied.

Somehow I managed to get some sleep on the trip to Merrill. Arriving, we found some funeral arrangements were made but more were needed and that happened the next day. The funeral was Saturday the 8th (the anniversary of his plane crash a few years ago - and a few other nasty things less related.) Jay & I returned to Fairmont on Sunday the 9th due my resuming work schedule.

In between there was much meeting with friends and family and sorting through stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. And we only scratched the surface, really. I foresee more than a few trips to deal with everything, and the problem of how to merge some things into the house here in Fairmont which seemed big when we moved in.

My sister stayed longer and is likely returning to Minneapolis today. So much needed (and needs) to be done. And I'm glad my mother wasn't alone on the 15th - wedding anniversary. I expect this coming week, which includes my mother's birthday, will not be easy either.

Current Mood: sad

Pop star Michael Jackson is still dead.

Current Mood: mischievous

As some folks know a fellow known by some as "Furp" was killed in an traffic accident. hakeber has the news reports of the accident. The rather well known unclekage has a short post that's gotten many responses. smashwolf seems to to be planning a memorial motorcycle ride and there is now a remember_furp LJ community for folks to post their stories and such. film2edit has a few posts about all this, and she knew Furp far better than I did.

I didn't know him and really only barely met him, I think. I do recall him from my first time at RCFM. He was the guy who drove another guy (who happened to be a Guest of Honor that year) from Wisconsin to Alabama - and back again after the con was over. The Sunday evening after the convention was over there was a bit of an after party planned. I made arrangements to be there but left for some time to repair a fursuit fan setup for jugularjaguar. I screwed up and had to re-do some of my work, taking considerable time, and so I didn't realize until I got back to the after-party that there was a severe weather warning and there had been tornado reports at a rather late hour. I mention this as the morning after was bright and clear - but I saw Furp and his passenger also leaving as early as I was. Furp made a point of suggesting I keep a radio on for reports of severe weather and road conditions that might have resulted from the night before. It wasn't a paranoid warning, just a friendly comment. From what I've been seeing around LJ, that was nothing unusual for him. He was just friendly and tended to be helpful when he could be.

Current Mood: down

October has not been a kind month. I didn't know Hank Reinhardt, and I only barely even met him, but I did know of him. He got a delivery (for which all credit should go to mzmadmike) from ACME (no pictures of it, alas) at this year's LibertyCon. I really hope he got a good laugh or several from it. Today I found out that Hank Reinhardt died yesterday.

A small part of my visit to Florida was spent having a few fursuitters visit the ailing Kimberfox. I was there, as Orvan, and so I saw him for maybe half an hour at the most. I recall him being a sort of tired cheerful. He wanted to joke around and did joke some about all the morphine he had been prescribed. That indicates how well he was doing. When you get morphine prescribed like addiction is no concern, it's because it isn't.

jugularjaguar described his condition as "cancer of everywhere" which is as apt a description as any. Even so, plans had been made for him to try get to Further Confusion, including assistance with airfare. FC didn't work out due to Kimberfox's condition, but there were also plans to try for Furry Weekend Atlanta and/or PawPet MegaPlex (both of which would waive the admission fee for Kimberfox). That was optimistic. Reality was not so kind. Kimber passed away last night.

I don't recall ever watching Steve Irwin, though I might have seen him on the Tonight Show or similar. I wasn't a fan and so didn't make a point of looking for his appearances. I was certainly aware of him as he became a cultural reference in several places. The place I saw him portrayed was Irregular Webcomic where he appeared in one of the several (mostly unrelated) storylines repeatedly. In a bit of sad irony, the comic for the day he died was this one. The cartoonist noted that and also added this strip which might not make immediate sense to those who do not read Irregular Webcomic.

( Explanation )

There has been a mixed reaction to the news. I've also seen a few expressing things... rather less than charitably. I've seen a lot of posts expressing sadness at the news and concern for his family and the animals that he did care for. There were the initial posts expressing simple shock. One post stands out. It's the one where drharper tells the story of An interesting day at the Rainbow Bridge.

Today is World AIDS Day and you may make of that what you will. I did know someone afflicted with AIDS. A few years ago, he died of it, or if you prefer, of the secondary infections that AIDS makes possible.

This person was Dr. Paul E. Gray, a professor of Electrical Engineering at the University of Wisconsin - Platteville. He was happily married, definitely heterosexual, and monogamous - it would have been difficult to keep things a secret in the small town of Platteville, WI had they been otherwise. He certainly was not using illicit drugs, either.

The common stereotypes about people with AIDS do not apply. So what happened? How did Dr. Gray get the disease? His physicians gave it to him. Inadvertently and unknowingly, but that's about as good a description as any.

See, Dr. Gray did take some medication, prescribed to keep him alive, and it worked. But what Dr. Gray suffered from was a blood disease, hemophilia. He needed blood products to counter the hemophilia and before there was any test at all for HIV there was still HIV in the blood supply.

When I hear "AIDS victim" or "AIDS patient" I don't think of the stereotypes flung about thoughtlessly. I think of Dr. Gray, whose medication was contaminated by a virus nobody knew about at the time. And when I see, "AIDS is punishment from God!" well, I don't have a very high opinion of those who claim that, or their version of a god.

As some of those reading already know, Jamie "Egg" Kufrovich, moufette, died earlier this month. I never met him face to face, as if that really mattered - the only time we might have met something important came up that required his attention more than the relative frivolity of the event others were attending. That said, I did know him. Perhaps not as well as some, and maybe a bit better than some others.

In the early to mid-1990s I knew him only as a poster on usenet, where he was a regular poster on alt.tv.animaniacs. A year or two later I saw him on IRC when I finally got there. We, and a good many others, talked of various things and engaged in some role-play and for a while the world was the one we all made, rather than the one everyone is stuck with.

A few items got sent between us over the years. There were things I happened upon that were no longer available most places (I used to joke that Fairmont experienced things a year or two after everywhere else) and so some Tiny Toons items or such would get sent his way. The reverse happened as well. There's a very nice sketch, of an anthropomorphic unicorn sitting at the edge of a pool, on the office wall at home because Egg found it and sent it to me as he thought I'd like it. He was right.

Egg's on-line appearances became more and more infrequent as the procedures to treat him and keep him alive did so at a price. The first trade, that I know about, was his hearing. Usenet and then IRC, being textual, made that irrelevant for interaction. Later, balance and coordination were affected, making walking and typing difficult. Even so, he did post to LJ once in a while and made an appearance on IRC not too long ago. I suppose I had the impression a good many did, that he'd always be there, even if in diminished frequency.

It's sobering and saddening to realize that he was two years younger than I am. It may seem selfish, but it's scary. I've delayed saying much as the news hit me harder than I'd have imagined. I'm glad that I knew him and could call him a friend and I hope he thought the same of me. The life he had wasn't the one he deserved; He deserved better.

Current Mood: sad

I'd expected the return to work after a week away to be annoying, with a backlog of email and a few orders that are wanted yesterday if not sooner. No such luck. That would have better than what actually happened. The backlog of email was sorted out quickly, but it had something far nastier than an urgent order in it. A sudden company wide meeting announcement for a meeting in the production area is seldom good news. It sure wasn't this time.

One of the IT guys here died of a heart attack last Thursday morning. It happened about 3 AM, or the first attack did. From what I've heard (which is likely fourth-hand or more by now) he was on the edge on the way to the hospital, at the hospital, and didn't make it through the emergency flight to Minneapolis.

I knew he smoked, and now I know he had a family history of heart trouble. That's not a good combination, even if he did seem rather energetic. Even when frustrated he was laughing at the situation, and I never saw him in a truly lousy mood, at least not that I could detect. I'll miss him.

Current Mood: sad

( Warning to Hunter S. Thompson fans: You probably won't like this. )

( Johnny Carson (1925-2005) )

Current Mood: sad

Beryl Neubauer (1913-2004)

Late Friday morning I got a phone call from my folks. My (paternal) grandmother, who hadn't been in the best of health for a while, was in the hospital and things didn't look good at all. There were multiple serious problems.

Saturday morning I got the other call. Late Friday night, actually very early Saturday morning, those problems were simply too much.

On Monday I went to work just long enough to fill out a bit of paperwork to take a few days off, then headed right for Merrill. Monday afternoon/evening was the viewing and Tuesday was the funeral. There were memories of my grandmother, but also it was clear that the saying that funerals are for the living is quite true.

I'm doing ok so long as I don't dwell on things too long. That's why I'm not saying any more right now.

I expect there will be editorial cartoons about Rodney Dangerfield this week. But really, the most fitting would have to wait until next week...

One panel: Rodney Dangerfield addressing an audience atop a cloud or such. "I'm ok now but last week I was in rough shape..."

Current Music: Rappin' Rodney

For the last couple weeks a coworker, I'll just call him KH, has been concerned with the health of his father. His father was diagnosed with some cancer. I don't know the details, and they don't matter. The cancer was quite advanced and he had days, or maybe weeks. He decided to try to get a bit more time with some treatment and underwent "light" (as in relatively mild, not as in photons) therapy. The chemicals hit him pretty hard and didn't seem to be having much positive effect.

Last week, KH took a day or two off to prepare the house for his father's return. Rails were being installed in the bathroom, as an example. Friday he didn't show up, and there was no explanation, but it was understood - spend what little time was left together. KH is also not here today. But today we found out just how little that was. HK's father died sometime Friday morning.

Another fellow, TJ, went through something similar last week when his mother died. Not much to say. Both KH and TJ knew it would happen sometime, but it's always a jolt when it does.

They, however, are probably not enduring the worst of those here. There is another, JO, who is going through a worse hell still. Ever have a birthday that sucked? Not like this one, I hope. JO's son's 21st birthday is being marked by a cancer diagnosis, a cleaned out apartment for a move back to live with his folks, sudden hospitalization, intravenous feeding, and chemotherapy that is decidedly not light. Any visitors he might have must dress in gown and mask. And things have only just started.