Dale Saunders Covid Updates

  A gift arrived today: a shareable link to the photo memories that were shared prior to Dad's funeral mass. My Brother In Law, Chris Neubauer is quite possibly one of the most generous, patient and loving humans put on this Earth. Not that he had anything else going on in his life, career, etc. during the midst of all the pain and shock of Dad's passing, but he was "voluntold" to gather pictures for the purpose putting together a powerpoint to run before the service and, as he does, he outdid himself - he covered all bases, making sure things flowed appropriately, he had a backup and a backup for the backup (my Neubauer fan club members are nodding their heads, y'all know what we're working with, here). He'd even enlisted some IT support from a colleague when things were a little out of his expertise the night before the funeral, but it was all sorted out and ready to go! The night before the funeral, ever diligent, Chris decided to log back in once more...

  23 days since Dad was diagnosed with Covid 18 days since he his hospital admission 15 days since he was moved to the ICU 10 days ago, he passed   2 days ago, we celebrated his life with a funeral mass   1 day ago, Cathy, Beck and I returned home Time is playing tricks on me. It's moving much too fast and yet I slowly trod through the minutes. I know It's not just me. The whole family is adjusting to whatever this new normal is without Dad being available to call up and ask what type of paint brush to use on trim work or to share a kiddo's latest accomplishment - he always had the BEST reactions to even the most minor wins.  Speaking of new normals, the picture I've shared here is certainly missing someone pretty central, but it was taken with love and as much joy as we could muster.  Backstory sidebar: I was chatting with a dear friend the day after Dad passed, who like many just wanted to "do something!" I looked up at a mirror at that moment and I asked ...

 Friends, if you are unable to travel or would prefer to join us virtually for Dale’s funeral mass, you can join live via this link:  https://www.facebook.com/CCVideoMemorials-103225498189387 Following the live service, a recorded version will also be made available.  Thank you and peace be with you. 

  Dale Richard Saunders , 79, passed away Jan. 5, 2021, at Holmes Regional Medical Center in Melbourne, Fla., following a brief but intense battle with Covid-19. He was born Sept. 25, 1941, in Washington, D.C., and spent his youth in nearby Arlington, Va. He graduated from Memphis University, formerly Memphis State University, in 1966 .  Dale met the love of his life, Rita Suzanne “Sue” Dillon, when they were just teenagers in Arlington. They dated, and even after her family relocated to Massachusetts, the two maintained a long-distance relationship. They married in 1963 and settled in Memphis, Tenn., to start their life together.  Soon after, Dale and Sue returned to the Washington, D.C., area to be closer to family while raising their children, Richard (children Alexis (Jorge) and Hunter), Cathy (husband Chris Neubauer and sons Joe, Jack and Patrick), Becky (husband Marc Dykhuizen and children Amy, Luke and Sarah) and Carrie (husband Chris Monger and daughter Laura)....

  I was in Middle School the first time I swiped this sweater from Dad's closet. I say first. It was likely the only the time I swiped it. I probably just willfully apprehended it. I found it cool: retro, a throwback to a different time. Even then, I tended to swim upstream. Anyway, the sweater came with me to college, entered a marriage and has made multiple moves, always safely finding a home in my closet and a source of comfort in trying moments.  I'm currently wrapped in this sweater in Virginia as the rest of my family is waiting to see Dad.  His right lung collapsed overnight.  There is an emergency procedure we could have opted for, but the likelihood of survival was just so slim and the treatments just weren't taking hold.  So it is time to say goodbye and send Dad home. Becky took this picture yesterday. It reminds her of the Trinity.  The Father The Son The Holy Ghost

  If I thought we crammed a lot of emotion into a 30 hour window yesterday, these past 14 hours gave those a run for their money. Let me just try to outline where we've been and where we are. Maybe the words will come then, because I've struggled to get this update rolling. It's the advice I always give Laura when she's trying to solve a problem: Just start by telling me what you know. Here's what I know: Yesterday evening, I headed to bed to early (10PM), peacefully thinking about our low, but critical plateau and baby steps. Dad was still on the Bi-Pap and all vitals were strong. I prayed, just as I asked all of you to do, that his pre dawn hours would be peaceful and I was just about to settle in when... I get a call...5 alarms...Dad's oxygen crashed and we needed to decide within minutes whether to intubate and place him on a ventilator or forego additional treatment and pursue palliative care. Head spinning. Such is life with a loved one in a Covid ICU. Cat...

Here's a photo from a late season Nationals game to celebrate Dad's Birthday. Becky in the distance and Carrie forward. This post follows a 30 hour time period of emotional upheaval and therefore, will reflect as such in length and substance.  Current clinical update on Dad.  As previously established in other posts, communication with the Care Team is challenging at best. We are physically prohibited from being with Dad for obvious reasons and in those fleeting moments when we've been allowed access outside his room, there hasn't been much time for a debrief. These care teams are, quite simply, pushed to their limits trying to care for all their patients and manage the worries of countless family members who, like us are feeling detached and concerned.  So yesterday's news - preparing us for the worst, that we needed to plan to transition Dad to palliative care in short order was delivered by the nursing team and then we were met with proverbial crickets. No news. ...

Well, the thing is, if Mom asks you to do something, you do it, right? So, here we go. Mom saw a post I left on Facebook on ("Throwback") Thursday 12/31/20 and asked me to add it to this blog. I had been thinking about what I wanted most that night and it was a hug from Dad. He has a gift for hugs. If you've never had one, I hope that one day you get the pleasure. He just has a sixth sense to be able to empathize in the appropriate way with whatever a person is dealing with in the moment and deliver that message, wordless, via hug. It was heartwarming to read messages from friends and family that are familiar with these famous hugs.  One included a former Softball Teammate, whom Dad coached for years. It occurred to me that there are HUNDREDS of such girls out there - former team members of a Dale Saunders' Little League Softball Team.  And if they knew  he's currently in the fight of his life, legions of them would cheer: COACH SAUNDERS!: Be Aggressive Be Be Aggr...

Dad remains in ICU as of this morning, 1/2/21 and the care team has set expectations that he is simply not progressing in his treatment and that the likely next steps include palliative care for his comfort.  Richard is working to help facilitate last rites. And we hope to be able to a FaceTime coordinated so we can see Dad today. On a brighter note, Cathy arrived in Florida, safely, last night and the nurse on Dad's charge insisted she come up to the floor and be able to stand outside his room and see him. They were able to talk on the phone and he knew she was there. When the nurse told him his Daughter Cathy was there to see him, Cathy saw him take a visible chest filled breath - one of relief and love.  At this hospital, once a patient is on palliative care, they are allowed a family member to spend time with them in their room. Cathy will be able to be with Dad. There are no words for my gratitude for this blessing. Mom remains well. Her vitals are strong and she is takin...

Plateau noun 1.  an area of relatively level high ground. 2. a state of little or no change following a period of activity or progress. Mom and Dad enjoyed this view of a gorgeous plateau while on a trip to the Grand Canyon in recent years. They've really made the most of their travels, inciting envy in those of us left behind :) A plateau is also where we find dad, clinically speaking. The good news is: since moving to the ICU two days ago, his condition and vitals have not worsened in a meaningful way. However, they've not improved in a meaningful way, either. Dad, as they say, has plateaued.  I wish to preface this next statement by saying I have a profound admiration and appreciation for Dad's care team. I simply cannot fathom what it must be like to be a front line health care worker, especially in a Covid ICU. That said, the level and quality of communication we are getting about his progress, or lack there of, is concerning. I would have expected we could have figure...

Isn't this a handsome picture of Dad? I've always loved it. It was taken the evening of Mom's 75th birthday celebration with just the "Saunders Six" - Mom, Dad and us four kids. Quite a rare event! New Years Day I'll start with some information about Dad's ICU care. A frequently asked question is: Is he on a ventilator? Well, technically, yes. Bear in mind, I am not a clinician so my explanation here is purely that of a lay person.  There are two forms of ventilation: invasive and non invasive. So often in the news relating to Covid, we hear about the invasive forms of ventilation that require intubation. Dad IS receiving ventilation, but it is through a non invasive means via a Bi-Pap machine (a more rigorous cousin to a C-Pap machine which a lot of folks are familiar with).  Dad continues to receive Oxygen and his stay in ICU is proving helpful with his O2 compliance. They're just able to keep a more watchful eye on him and be sure he keeps the flow ...