In the latter part of the afternoon on Sept. 13, 1995, Patti received a call from Dr. De Wet’s Office and was told that they had last seen Lee on the 11th and he had been told, (for what reason we do not know), to report to the Emergency Dept. at St. Paul’s Hospital. He had not done so and they were concerned. They had not been able to contact him, and they asked us if we could check on him and make sure he had enough to eat and was all right. After several calls throughout the day. we finally managed to reach Lee on the phone in the early evening but he was irritated by the call and told us “ I really don’t want to deal with this shit right now. I’m trying to think. Call me back in the morning, love you.”
What are you to do? We respected his rights and minded our own business.
The next morning Patti called Dr. De Wet’s office and told them what had happened. They reacted with shock that we had not gone to see him and informed Patti that Lee had called their office earlier. He was suffering from dementia, he was drunk, and he was talking suicide. Patti asked why they just didn’t commit him if that was the case and was informed in turn that they could do nothing as long as he was drunk. She had better get down there and sober him up. I was already en route to work, but Patti thought quickly, called a good friend who works at St. Paul’s and was offered a ride in 5 minutes. She called me at work, told me what was going on, and left to save her boy.
When she arrived outside Lee’s apartment she was met by both Police and Ambulance Personnel who, despite the previous statement that they could do nothing while he was drunk, had already apparently been dispatched by the Doctor’s Office. Lee was totally out of control; drunk and combative, resisting as only he could, refusing to submit. Patti told him they were only trying to help him. Lee simply screamed, “ Help me !! Help me !! No-one can help me!!”
He was finally restrained and subdued. On the advice of one of the attending Police officers, before Patti left his apartment she found and took with her over $700 that was lying around in various places. She then rode with him to the Emergency Ward at St. Paul’s Hospital where he was finally sedated and quieted down. I joined Patti at the Hospital after work and I was appalled by Lee’s appearance. He had not shaved in weeks, his hair was matted and filthy. He lay on a stretcher flat on his back with his legs and arms at weird angles. His lips were dry and cracked and his teeth were stained with some sort of black crud. He was totally unconscious but every now and then he shook with spastic twitches in his body and extremities. There was nothing more to be done so we left, went home held onto each other through a very long night. During the days following, Lee was seen by Psychiatry, his status changed to Medical and he was moved onto 7C, the Medical Ward. Despite all efforts made he continued to just lie in bed and decline.
At the end of the first week, he was still unconscious. Tests revealed nothing as to the source of his problem, but the Medical staff advised his prognosis was not favorable, and on their advice, I contacted his Landlord, told him what had happened, and made arrangements to clean out his apartment.
When I arrived at his apartment to clear out his belongings, I was shocked to find it a total shambles. Lee had always been extremely fastidious about his accommodations and during previous visits the place was always neat and orderly. Now it appeared to be a near disaster. The kitchen sink was loaded with unwashed dishes, the garbage bag was overflowing, there was a mountain of empty beer cans in plastic shopping cans piled in the kitchen, empty liquor bottles were laying all over the place, and the place was swarming with cockroaches attracted by numerous partially emptied take-out containers from restaurants in the area. It took all day to clean up and when I left, in addition to Lee's belongings, I had removed 480 empty beer cans, 7 empty 40 oz. and 5 empty 26 oz. rum and brandy bottles as well as 7 various wine bottles.
By the first week of October, it was obvious to everyone that Lee was dying. He was semi-comatose, lying in a bed hooked up to an IV loaded with antibiotics with no apparent result. He refused any nourishment when he did rouse and reacted angrily whenever anything was brought near his mouth. His temperature continued to drop daily and his periods of semi-consciousness shortened. Patti and I came to accept he was dying and I went to see him that week, sat by his bed, and said my final farewell words to him. During this period, according to Physician’s Notes from 7C, there was a great deal of concern and discussion re “ethical” issues in which Patti and I were not included. The staff concluded that malnutrition, given his latest CD4 count, was far more likely to kill him than AIDS. An attempt was made to insert a naso-gastric tube to feed him, even though we told them it would have been the last thing Lee would have wanted and was doomed to failure before they tried. It failed as predicted. Because of his loss of consciousness, on Sept. 29, Lee had been Certified as Incompetent to handle his own affairs by Dr. Kitchen.
Suddenly, during the second week of October, Lee woke up. To everyone’s amazement he began to eat and within the space of a week was ambulatory, pushing his IV tree and going down to the 4th Floor where he could have a smoke. His IV was removed October 12. His only question on waking was “Why didn’t they just let me die?” We had no answer, it was nothing they had done. He had done it himself
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