The next 30 days of turmoil

March 25 started out to be an educational day for our family and it seemed like it would never end. While Jana and I were an emotional mess, we quickly had to learn what steps were necessary to care for a loved one after passing. First, we had to decide on the aftermath of what to do with mom. The hospital mentioned contacting a crematorium that could assist us with the next procedure. Luckily, John's brother-in-law, Mike, worked at Neptune Cremation Services and could assist us with our needs. While I never thought I would need to discuss this topic for many years, I had no choice but to drive out to the company and discuss the situation. John, Jana, I were met with very friendly people to help us make decisions. They would take care of everything; contact social security and prepare the death certificate. We were able to compare different urns that suited our needs. Since there was two of us (Jana and myself), they provided an extra urn free of charge. We just had to wait about two weeks to receive them in the mail.

In the following days, John and I were busy on the phone trying to figure out what our plans were, not to mention keep busy. Do we stay in Portland, move to Denver at the end of April, or move somewhere else? Knowing Oregon economy, our best bet was continue with the plans of moving to Denver. After deciding this factor, came insurance, life insurance, and taking care of mom's financial affairs. I never thought in a million years this part could be so difficult for relatives. I found out that I wasn't the beneficiary on any of her accounts. Even though I had a will of me being the personal representative, nobody seemed to care. It was hell. At least I was the beneficiary on her Kaiser paperwork. I was able to be an honest American citizen to protect my mom's affairs. After waiting two weeks, the death certificate finally arrived. I walked into the banks with paperwork in hand. It is funny how a credit union will semi work with you, yet a normal bank will not. Now I had to fight Oregon laws with Wells Fargo and wait 75 days to complete an Affidavit. How's rediculous is this. My mom just passed away and banks won't work with you.

People from mom's work and relatives started to ask about a service for mom. We thought of a lot of places, but realized that mom would have wanted privacy. After contemplating we thought the Beaverton Shilo Inn would be a good place since it had a gazebo and a little pond. John came up with the idea of having a "Celebration of Life" service for Chantelle, along with a little ceremony for him and I to get married at the same time. On April 4, we celebrated both Chantelle and us; it was a nice, warm day; mom would have enjoyed it. Jana, Curtis, and Cathi came to witness both events.

The rest of April was spent reorganizing, sorting, and sifting through mom's stuff to figure out what to keep, throw out, or give away. Since we were moving, we needed to get rid of weight. This was a hard time for both Jana and I. We didn't want to get rid of anything since it was our mom's stuff and everything seemed sentimental to us.

After about a week of literally going through 3/4 of mom's boxes, I started feeling terrible. Everything was finally hitting me big time; I was having anxiety attacks. I finally had John take me into urgent care to have them check me out. My heart was racing, my blood pressure was up, I felt dizzy, and couldn't stand up for very long. The doctor told me that I need to up my blood pressure medication properly and I would feel better (I had been taking 1/2 pill since unemployed and no insurance). He also gave me some meds to relax myself until I got to Denver. On our final day of living in Oregon, it took every energy in my body to get into the car and start driving.

It took us a few days to get to Denver since I kept having slight anxiety attacks, but forced myself to drive. I knew that once we arrived I could finally rest. On May 4, John and I drove past the Colorado border. For a minute, the muscle around my heart felt really tight while I was thinking about mom. She should have been driving here with us. I thought I was having a heart attack but it soon let up; it was anxiety. We finally drove into Denver around 2PM that day. It seemed like such a relief; home at last.

First, Chantelle's finale

My husband, John Cline, blogged about the events that happened to Chantelle on March 20, 2009 and posted it to http:/lovelifelaughter.blogspot.com. The Friday started out as a typical day for Chantelle, except her coworkers planned a lunch for her; she had fish and chips at Stanford's. By the time she got to LA Fitness (around 4:15PM) for our usual workout she was still stuffed from lunch.

We went swimming, hit the hot tub, and steam room. Mom always loved to swim and felt free in the warm water. After we did all our activities, we grabbed a shower. We were like two sisters in the shower, yacking and sticking our tongues out at each other, being childlike and goofy. Why not, life is short. While I was drying my hair, she would always start walking out of the club since it took her longer to walk out since I am taller and had a tendency to walk faster. I found her half way across the club trying to catch her breath. She has been short of breath lately again; comes and goes for the past few years. Her doctors always claimed she was fine though. We walked out of the club together doing the usual bitching about someone trying to get passed us quickly and nearly running us over. We put our roller bags in the back of the car and hopped in the front seat as usual. As we were getting in the front seat of the car we noticed that were witnessing a beautiful sunset.

At about 6PM, mom started the car, put the car in reverse, and was waiting for the lady to drive by so she wouldn't hit mom's car. Then all of the sudden mom started making strange "snoring" noises. I am like, "what?" I said what in the hell are you doing? I looked over at her and she had the strangest look on her face and was breathing strangely. I have never seen this look on her face before, but it reminded me of a repeat of the event that happened to her seven years ago where she fainted. The only thing that came to my mind in that split second was to take her hand off the control bar, put the car back in park and turn off the engine so we wouldn't roll back and hit anything. I called John for help; he was expecting my nightly call anyway. I told him something is wrong with mom at the same time I started yelling at her, "mommy wake up" over and over again. He called 911 while I was shifting back/forth from my side of the car to hers and tending to her. 911 called me and told me to start CPR. This was going to be a bit challenging since she was in an awkward position in the driver's seat and I couldn't drag her out by myself. Luckily, the fire truck and ambulance showed up a few seconds later (this seemed like several minutes, but wasn't).

The chaplain came over and discussed the situation and asked me about details of the event. At that moment, I felt like a 3rd party giving a narration of an event. My logical and analytical side of me kicked in and I described the whole scenario as if I was looking down at it instead of owning the scene and being personally involved. I didn't cry at all; it didn’t cross my mind. I told the chaplain that John was on his way. When John called me from the traffic light near the scene, he knew something wasn't right when I was describing everything so clearly. I wasn't showing any emotion. All I could think of was my mom was a real lady and they were treating her like a doll when dragging her out of the car and giving her CPR. I really wanted to tell them to be discreet. Emergency people don't care what you like, they want to save your life.

The emergency crew worked on her for a while on the ground (maybe 20 minutes), then transferred her to Providence St. Vincent Medical Center. They worked on her in the ambulance all the way to the hospital and in the emergency room. It is said that no matter whom you are, emergency people will work on a person for an hour before calling it. Like in John's blog, about 40 minutes into revival, the doctor was worried about brain damage already. At 6:50PM they finally got mom's heart started again. By then 50 minutes had gone by. The next few hours were going to be critical. During this time, I felt extremely hot from my chest through to my back, then cold and started to shiver. Mom and I are so close buddies that I knew something bad was happening here and my body wasn’t happy either.

Since this is the first emergency situation that I have witnessed personally. John was really good at explaining the situation to both my sister and I. We were finally able to see mom at 10:15. We talked to her and tried to calm her down. I don't know if she actually heard me or if this was a physical body laying here now and she was gone. She didn't look the same at all; her sparkly glow of Chantelle was gone. Dr. Hudson came and told us the situation and that it was going to be a waiting game now. They had to lower mom's body temperature to prevent the brain from swelling, and slowly bring her temperature back up again. The doctor wanted to know our lifestyle and what our plans were. We were just getting ready to move to Denver the next weekend; we are packing, making reservations, etc. He said we may need to postpone everything.

The next 24 hours was extremely hard; will she wake up normal and be Chantelle again? Will she be like a toddler? Will she come back at all?

On Saturday, March 21, she looked "better." Like in John's blog, she looked like she was in a peaceful sleep. Her sister, Jeri, and cousin, Julie, drove up to visit with her and discussed what to do. Basically it was a "what if" day for everyone. Sunday, March 22, was spent doing chores around the house trying to keep busy, doing my homework, visiting with mom, and waiting some more. We couldn't make phone calls or anything due to the weekend.

Monday, March 23 was a busy day. The first order of business was mom. The doctors rose her body temperature back up and watched her brain activity to see how much damage occurred. As her temperature rose, she started having major seizures, which wasn't good. John explained what her brain is doing in his blog. Being a computer geek, I knew that her brain was seeing the "blue screen of death." This was not going to work for either mom or I. I know my mom; a real lady. She wouldn't want this. The doctor tried several experiments to see if she would come out of it. Her brain just would not respond correctly. Decisions had to be made now. It was up to Jana (sister) and me to decide what was best for her. John called our minister, Cathi Condon, to come to the hospital the next day. I informed her employer, Kaiser, of the situation in case anyone needed to visit her, along with our relatives. Her manager, Tammy, was able to come by and visit, but nobody else. Mom liked her privacy, so she would have been fine with it.

On Tuesday, March 24, Jana, Curtis (Jana's husband), John, and I arrived at the hospital in the afternoon. Camille (mom's friend) was there already talking to mom. The Chaplain's office offered Jana and I to pick out a quilt to cover mom up. This is a special quilt dedicated to the families who lost a loved one at the hospital, called the "Passage Quilt." The hospital has volunteers who spend their time making quilt specifically for patients getting ready for their passage. We found the perfect guilt; it is gold with pink flowers (picture included), fit for a real queen, just like Chantelle.

At around 4:30PM Cathi Condon arrived to help us see mom off to her new and exciting dimension. Chantelle was surrounded by tons of love (not a dry eye in the room either) through Jana, Curtis, John, me, Cathi, and Camille. We all witnessed as Chantelle transitioned from this world to another; I was told it took about 40 minutes. Jana and I looked at mom's eyes one last time before she left; they were clear, sparkly, beautiful blue, just like her trademark. Chantelle finally left at 5:12PM as the nurse walked by me to check her heart beat and pulse. My best friend had finally transitioned.

After everyone said their final goodbyes, John and I stayed around to watch mom one last time. Mom had fully witnessed my birth; she said we met eye/eye after my arrival to this world; and now it was my turn to meet her eye/eye and watch her depart. Life and death is so strange.

Tribute to Chantelle Princeton (my mom)

A little over four months, my mom, Chantelle Princeton, transitioned from the planet earth. Some can say she died, passed away, joined back into the ether, God called her back home, or she joined the universal intelligence. Whatever each individual's Truth believes, she isn't physical on earth anymore. My husband, John Cline, started a blog about her last four days here starting on March 20. Since then, John and I relocated to the Denver area; it was mom's wish to move here. I thought I would pick up where John left off and provide a story of my mom's life and give some details of what happens in the final days of a loved one.

"Mommy goes to sleep", "Waiting", "Relatives Join Us", "Saying Goodbye"