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Imagine having to make life-or-death decisions for a parent battling coronavirus. That was @LouFoglia’s struggle for 31 days. https://cnn.it/2yJm2CE
Intubate? Extubate? Resuscitate? Wearing a mask and gloves, his symptomatic mother crying on the couch, Foglia dug through file cabinets in his childhood home to try and figure out what his unconscious father would want.
Unable to visit, he was on the phone with the hospital at least twice a day, approving treatments and checking his father’s status. More than once, he had to make terrifying choices, like moving his dad to another hospital.
He was also the man in charge of updating his entire family on his father’s condition. He got in the habit of texting his brother before calling: "About to call. Not bad news."
When Foglia finally found his dad’s health care directive, it was clear: Do Not Resuscitate. The hospital had said multiple organ systems were failing. He called them and approved a DNR order.
That night, Foglia drafted an obituary for his father. True to form, his dad had included not just a will and health care directive in his files — there was also a resume and career summary, to make the job easier.
After that, though, things started to look up. About a week later, his dad was taken off the ventilator after 28 days of intubation. His mom was no longer sick. His dad was even transferred out of intensive care.
Just as they began to talk about release from the hospital, there was a problem. Foglia’s father was no longer stable. Possibly another lung infection, the hospital said.
But still, his dad didn’t need to go back to the ICU, the doctors decided. Foglia had been staying at his mother’s house to keep her company. "Go home," she implored. "Be with your wife." So Foglia headed out.
On the way home, the doctor called. "Sounds like he's doing better today," Foglia greeted the physician.
"Lou, I'm so sorry,” the doctor said. “Your dad passed away about 10 minutes ago." “OK. What happened?” Foglia asked. The answer: “He flatlined.”
Foglia turned around and went back to his mother’s house. His brother was there. "Why are you back so soon?" asked his mom. "Pop is.....he's gone,” Foglia remembers saying before breaking down.
That night, Foglia went upstairs to his childhood bedroom and wrote his father’s obituary for the second time.
He wrote about his career as a passionate community lawyer. About his volunteer work and his ethics. His pride in his Italian-American heritage. His commitment to his friends and family.
Philip Foglia was a husband for 44 years, a father for 40, a loyal friend his entire life. He was a skilled and compassionate attorney for four decades.
He was a Covid patient for 31 days. And that’s the lesson, writes @LouFoglia: It doesn't matter how a man dies. It matters how he lives. https://cnn.it/2yJm2CE
