It will be November 29, Saturday (the Saturday after Thanksgiving) in Fort Myers, Florida, at Lee Memorial Park, at 11:00 AM. We will be at the site where the Veterans Memorial is located, they call it, “Veterans Field of Honor”.
Lee Memorial Park Funeral Home
Veterans Field of Honor
12777 State Highway 82
Fort Myers, FL 33913
Phone at Funeral Home 239-334-4880
The American Legion is helping with the memorial service, so a Color Guard will be there, the military chaplain, and taps will be played. I will attempt to sing for my dad (he wanted me to, and I really think I’m going to have a hard time, but will try for him), and shouldn’t be more than 30 minutes long. We want it to be the same length that a Veteran’s Memorial Service is. My father and I went to Memorial Services in honor of Veterans since I could remember. It became tradition for us. So, we’re doing it at this location to honor that tradition.
Afterwards, we will have a gathering at the Lehigh Acres American Legion. I really want as many of you to come, especially those of you here in Florida. Thank you.
{body}
Please come to the Memorial Service in Florida.
It will be November 29, Saturday (the Saturday after Thanksgiving) in Fort Myers, Florida, at Lee Memorial Park, at 11:00 AM. We will be at the site where the Veteran’s Memorial is located, they call it, “Veterans Field of Honor”.
Lee Memorial Park Funeral Home
12777 State Highway 82
Fort Myers, FL 33913
Phone at Funeral Home 239-334-4880
We will have the Memorial Service near the Veteran’s Field of Honor. A Honor Guard will be there. I will attempt to sing for my dad (he wanted me to, and I really think I’m going to have a hard time, but will try for him), and shouldn’t be more than 40 minutes long. We want it to be the same length that a Veteran’s Memorial Service is. My father and I went to Memorial Services in honor of Veterans since I could remember. It became tradition for us. So, we’re doing it at this location to honor that tradition.
Afterwards, we will have a gathering at the Lehigh Acres American Legion. I really want as many of you to come, especially those of you here in Florida. Thank you.
A video of our reality of my father’s situation during his final years of life. If you’re related to my father and you’re my family, I have written a special message just for you. Click on READ MORE. I love you.
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I haven’t gone to bed yet and it’s 530AM when I am typing to you all.
First and foremost, thanks to Kelly and Aunt Pat for all their hardwork, for caring, and for doing so much already to contact all of you, to help with the funeral planning, and doing what they do best - get things done.
This has been the most difficult experience for me dealing with my father being gone. The man I spent 35 years of my life with, almost daily contact, day to day, and he’s gone from our physical vision and presence. My father became like a child to me because I cared for him from the Fall of 2005 when he was strickened with this bizarre, rare neurological disease the doctors thought was Multi System Atrophy (Parkinsons Plus). In July of 2005, I remember seeing my father sitting in a recliner in the dark, in the corner of his master bedroom, his face had a frown he couldn’t control. I cried immediately upon seeing him, he said, “It’s ok? Don’t cry?” My father, at the time, thought it was Parkinsons, the kind that Michael J. Fox and Muhammed Ali have… but what it was, was actually worse than the typical Parkinsons.
In the Fall of 2005, I was there for my father as his primary caregiver until April 2008, when it just got so hard on me both emotionally, mentally, physically… I had to get help because I was the one who took care of my father a majority of the time. If it wasn’t me, it was a private CNA we hired. Mom did her best, so did Billy, but I was the one that did a bulk of the nitty-gritty work and studied, researched, and discovered as much as I could to help my father live the best quality of life possible.
April 2008, for my family’s sake, we moved dad down the street to a full-time CNA’s home, where she was also caring for her 101 year old mother. It was the hardest thing I had to do, but in the end, it was a better relationship between my brother and my mother. My mother felt guilty and angry that her daughter was doing a majority of the work that she felt that she should’ve been doing, but couldn’t. My brother’s coping mechanism was to distance himself, and when he did see dad, the visits were qualitative, and much appreciated by Dad, but brief.
I stayed with dad 4-8 hours in the day when I was not out of town on business for my part-time job. If I had a full-time job, I would not have been able to watch over my father’s final months and have such a flexible schedule.
Dad was my life. I lived for my father’s approval and I continue to aspire to be like him. I love his sense of humor, his genuine, laid-back personality, and his wit, intelligence, and ability to kick my butt in Scrabble every time. He would say, “And you went to college?” after every Scrabble Victory of his (and trust me, I tried to beat him!).
My father continues to be my source of inspiration, especially after seeing what he went through during his long-fought battle with the mysterious disease he lived with. Every day, he still had hope, never giving up, and even at the last day, he still requested for a feeding tube, even though it went against the aggressive measures Hope Hospice didn’t encourage.
Dad wanted something for anxiety, and they gave him a pain killer, something he was on before when he was admitted to Lehigh Hospital, where dad breathed his last breath with both Mom and I in the room. We were planning on bringing him to the Hope Hospice House instead of leaving him in the hospital, but he, at the last minute, insisted on a feeding tube that he indicated by closing his eyes, meaning “yes”, to the question, “Dad, close your eyes to say YES when I ask you, Do you want a feeding tube?” I tested him several times, if not 5 times in a row, to ensure that’s what he truly wanted.
Once they gave him the pain med, not 15 minutes later, dad started acting different. He went from acknowledging us with his eyes to a blinkless stare to the ceiling, mouth wide open. My mom would say, “Jeffrey! Look at me! Whas wrong?” in her Korean accent. I said, “Oh man, I told them not to give them the pain med until after we transferred dad to the Hospice House. I want Dad to be coherent when Uncle Dan gets here so they can communicate with each other!” Then, I said, “Mom, he looks different. His color is not the same.” Dad had gone from pink to yellow to white.
The Hope Hospice nurse, Jen, walked in, while both my mom and myself were standing at my father’s bedside, one on each side. Her arrival was an indicator that Hope Hospice would be transferring Dad out, but she had to evaluate him first. Then, as soon as she saw him, she pushed the call button.
The hospital nurse came in, she did some touching around, and walked outside and said, “Beatrice.” I walked behind her, she had this frantic look on her face, and she said, “I think he’s passed.” I said, “WHAT! I thought I told you not to give him the pain med?” And she said, “No, you said you need something for his pain...” And I said, “No, didn’t Dr. Tucker tell you… Dad wanted a feeding tube. And I thought I had to sign off on something before you administered it?!” She went over to the supervisor, I stood numb, feeling faint, in the hall, and they both went into Room 218, where Dad was.
Dad was pronounced dead at 610PM, they asked, “Now, your dad signed a DNR, Do Not Resuscitate order, but you have the power to override that...” I said, “Mom?! Should we shock him?! Should we try to bring him back?!” The nurse warned me that if we did, he would then have to be hooked up to a ventilator to assist his breathing. A calming came before my body. I stopped crying. I looked at my mom and said, “Mom… we need to let him go… He’s sleeping. He’s at peace.” She goes, “No, no! He’s still breathing! No, Jeffrey!!! No!” She grabbed my dad’s face, shook him a little, the nurse pulled her away, but not completely far, and we saw my father take his last breathe, a slight hiccup, and he was gone. Eyes closed, mouth still opened.
We were shocked, not ready, didn’t know. But, from the moment that Dad was administered the pain med, mom was sitting at his bedside, on his left, slightly leaning on his bed, holding his hand, rubbing his arm, or touching his face. I, too, did the same, feeling the warmth change to a cold, and watching his color change, too.
The doctors, both our family, and the lung specialist, said that dad threw up a clot either in his heart or lungs. The pain med administered was just a coincidence, because dad was bound to go any day. He was not in any pain at all in his final hour, and the hours before, he was only feeling anxiety because my mother and I were crying daily, telling him everything we wanted him to know about how awesome of a husband, father, brother he was to Uncle Dan, and loved by so many other family members and dear friends.
I said to Dad, “You’re the best. I want to be like you. I’ll never forget you. I’m writing a book about you,” and now that he’s transitioned to Heaven, I’m still having a hard time, and I think I always will, about my father dying. It wasn’t just that I was a daughter to him, but it was more about how we got even closer because of this trecherous disease. My dad, too, became an even better man, because of the courageouness, bravery, and strength he showed from the time he was diagnosed with the neurological disease up until the moment he left this earth.
I have so many pictures and videos of my dad during these last few years because I wanted to document everything and remember the reality that was ours to bear, and it was an honor to serve my father that way. I will bring my external hard drive up with me to share it all with you at Uncle Dan’s house.
I have so many different emotions, from sadness, depression, anger, frustration, guilt, and even laugh madly because I wish that he didn’t have to go through that, and then wish I could’ve done more. It’s going to be forever before I get over Dad not being here for me to talk to, get advice from, get assurance from, and get hugs and kisses and dances from. Christmas was our favorite time of year, too, and that’s going to be really rough.
See you this weekend or if you can’t make it to New York and you’re closer to Florida, see you hopefully at the memorial service on Saturday, November 29, at 11AM at Lee Memorial Park, Veteran’s Field of Honor. My dad and I would go to the memorials religiously to remember our veterans and sometimes, dad or myself would volunteer my voice to sing the National Anthem at this same location where the memorial service will be held for Dad. That’s what he wanted. He also wanted to be buried near his brother, my new father, my godfather, my Uncle Dan.
It’s going to be a tough weekend for us all, but I am so glad that we will get to see each other again and remember the amazing man my father still is in all our hearts.
With Love,
Jeffrey’s daughter,
Beatrice Ann Youngs Paxson (my new legal name; I kept my father’s last name to honor him, and added my new last name to honor my husband).
I have some videos I have already shared at my YouTube account at the following link:
I also wrote alot about Dad at my MySpace Blog. Writing has been a good source of therapy for me and has also allowed me to share my father’s story with so many people. The link to that is:
http://www.MySpace.com/BeaYoungs
A video of our reality of my father’s situation during his final years of life. If you’re related to my father and you’re my family, this is a special message I have written just for you. I love you.
Jeffrey James Youngs
Born in NYC
Beloved Son of Daniel V. Youngs (deceased) and Catherine Youngs (deceased)
Beloved Brother to Daniel Youngs of New York, Edward Youngs (deceased), and Robert Youngs of Florida
Graduated from Grace Dodge Vocational High School in 1962
Army Veteran, Stationed in Korea
Previously lived in the great states of New York and New Jersey
Resided in beautiful, sunny Florida
Loyally worked for American Airlines for 35 years (Baggage Claim to Ticket Agent)
True-Lovingly Married in 1971 (Met Mom in 1969, Dad went back to the States in 1970, then went back for Mom in 1971 and married her in April in Korea)
Retired at the young age of 53
Beloved and Heroic Father of Beatrice Youngs Paxson and William Youngs
Wonderful Father-in-Law of Michael Jeffrey Paxson
Brave Grandfather to Mei-Lin Youngs,7, and Devonte Youngs, 13
Went to Heaven at the age of 65
Click READ MORE for Memorial Service Details.
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Jeffrey James Youngs
Born in NYC
Beloved Son of Daniel V. Youngs (deceased) and Catherine Youngs (deceased)
Beloved Brother to Daniel Youngs of New York, Edward Youngs (deceased), and Robert Youngs of Florida
Graduated from Grace Dodge Vocational High School in 1962
Army Veteran, Stationed in Korea
Previously lived in the great states of New York and New Jersey
Resided in beautiful, sunny Florida
Loyally worked for American Airlines for 35 years (Baggage Claim to Ticket Agent)
True-Lovingly Married in 1971 (Met Mom in 1969, Dad went back to the States in 1970, then went back for Mom in 1971 and married her in April in Korea)
Retired at the young age of 53
Beloved and Heroic Father of Beatrice Youngs Paxson and William Youngs
Wonderful Father-in-Law of Michael Jeffrey Paxson
Brave Grandfather to Mei-Lin Youngs,7, and Devonte Youngs, 13
Went to Heaven at the age of 65
NEW YORK
November 21 & 22, 2008
Jeffrey Youngs Visitation
Friday, November 21, 2008
6:00 - 8:00 PM
Brooks Funeral Home
481 Gidney Avenue
Newburgh, NY
Jeffrey Youngs Funeral Mass10:30 AM
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Sacred Heart Church
Newburgh, NY
Burial will be at the convenience of the family.
FLORIDA
Saturday (after Thanksgiving) November 29, 2008
Lee Memorial Park
Veterans Field of Honor
12777 State Road 82
Fort Myers, FL 33913
11:00 AM
Followed by a memorial reception at the American Legion, Post 323, in Lehigh Acres, Florida.
Donations to the family are deeply appreciated to help with the cost of both the New York and Florida Memorial Services.
Make checks out to Jeff Youngs’ widow, Mae Youngs.
Send to:
Mae Youngs
202 8th Avenue
Lehigh Acres, FL 33936
My Dad Passed Away today. Aug 17, 1943 - Nov 17, 2008
Taken on Dad’s 65th birthday this year, August 17, 2008
My best friend, my father, the one that raised me, and the one I want to be passed away November 17th, at 610PM, year 2008. I posted at Myspace, starting on the 13th, about Dad’s situation. I really didn’t know what was going to happen, but knew this past Saturday morning, that I needed to go home and be with my family, my father, and see what was going on. I only knew the extent of my father’s illness and what his medical history was because I took care of him from the Fall of 2005 up until now. What I wrote at Myspace, as bizarre as it sounds, helped cope. But, when he died, that was a shock. I am glad people were praying for him, though, because I feel comforted that God and then Angels took him “home”. Here’s what I wrote… (CLICK “READ MORE")
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11/13
Please pray for my Dad…
Today, he was admitted into the hospital.
I’m in San Diego, he’s in Florida.
My mom canceled her flight back to Germany to stay with him.
Dad has pneumonia. My father has Parkinsons Plus (Multi System Atrophy) and has been bedridden and wheelchair bound for almost three years.
Please pray that my dad gets better. I don’t think I will ever be ready for my dad to go, but without me being there with him right now in the condition that he’s in, makes me really sad.
Thank you for praying.
Love, Bea
11/15, 1157PM Florida Time:
This morning at around 650AM PST, we drove to the venue for the 2nd day of prelims. On the way there, I got a phone call from my mom. She put a doctor on the phone. After what the doctor shared, I felt it was in my family and my father’s best interest to get on the next plane out of San Diego, no matter what the cost. I booked it at 8AM and left for the airport my 1115AM flight. My flight was supposed to be out of LAX, since that’s where I originally flew in from Florida, but I called US Airways to change my flight to be out of San Diego instead. $150 for the change fee, plus $380. I put it on the credit card - my dad is more important than the money.
I was trying my best to hold in the tears, especially while the doctors and nurses I spoke to throughout the day explained the situation to me. They told me that Dad was having problems breathing, that his throat was so swollen, he couldn’t even eat or drink. My mom was upset because she felt he was starving. He hasn’t eaten in 4 days. Our family doctor’s assistant got on the phone to explain that Dad was getting his nutrition via IV and she also shared with me the fact that he may need a feeding tube and possibly a tube down his throat to help him breath. Those are coined “aggressive measures” and would go against what Hope Hospice tries to do for their patients.
My dad is in Hope Hospice and has been since Feb of 2007. It was on Valentine’s Day, I remember it clearly, and remember having to help sign what they call a “DNR” or a Do Not Resusciate order, a written order from a doctor that resuscitation should not be attempted if a person suffers cardiac or respiratory arrest. My dad shrugged his shoulders and said that was his wish because he didn’t want to be, what he said, in a “vegetative state”. I also remember my father telling me that he only wanted a feeding tube if it was inserted into his stomach and if it meant that it would help him live a little longer.
The dilemma is if we go the route of a feeding tube, our family doctor was trying to tell us that Hope Hospice will no longer be able to take care of him if he survives this pneumonia episode. From what I understood, the Hope Hospice program is designed to help patients die a natural death, without the help from a feeding tube. In the morning, I hope to get someone from Hope Hospice to explain that more for me so it will help us in making our decision on whether or not we should go with a feeding tube.
I’m sitting next to my Dad’s bed, in a fancy chair that reclines and is on wheels. I have turned the chair in such a way where I am looking directly at my father, who is in front of my view, just beyond the top of my laptop’s screen. He looks good, has color, almost a reddish color to his skin. Earlier today, he had a fever, but the temperature is down to normal after they gave him some Tylenol. He’s got an oxygen mask on him with an inflated bag attached to it. He’s also got something up his nose that my mom explained is used to help suction out some of the phlegm that is in his lungs (?). The way he’s breathing, it’s short, in one-second intervals, like he’s trying to catch his breath every time. But, his breathing has been like this before, prior to his getting the pneumonia this time around, while sleeping at night.
Before he was admitted, back in March, I made the painful decision to put my father into a private home. He was under the care of someone who works out of her own home and her only other patient is her 101 year old mother. Dad’s much happier there because my mom is happier and more comfortable that I am not doing all the work like I was previously. The trips that I went .. to the paintball events, I would hire a CNA to come and help with my Dad in my absence. Hope Hospice came to the house 4 times a week to help me bath him (30 minutes per each day).
When we moved Dad into the new home, which is just the street over from my house, literarily just a walking distance away, it was difficult at first, heart-wrenching, matter of fact, but in the best interest of my family. We struggled, but Mike was suffering because I wasn’t paying attention to him, my husband, and I was starting to resent my brother and mother for not being as involved as I was. Mom goes away for 9 months out of the year, so when she was gone, I was taking care of my father as his primary caregiver.
Now, I’m looking at him, and when I walked into his hospital room initially, I came in with a smile. I didn’t want to start balling and crying, but wanted to be joyful and happy that I see my father, still alive. I talked briefly with the nurse on duty and she told me some of the meds he was on. I really want to talk to the doctor and Hope Hospice to figure out what we should be doing next.
Dad told me that in his last days, he wanted to go to the Hospice House. If it looks like he’s not going to get any better, I will respect Dad’s wishes. But, I am worried about my Mom. She wants him around, as do I, but my brother, on the other hand, as well as my Uncle Dan, my Godfather, my dad’s closest and older brother, hates to see him in this state, seeing him suffer. Me, well, I feel like I am going to miss him the most. It’s a long story, one that I will write eventually, but to make it short, my relationship with my father is a perfect father/daughter relationship, the kind that you only read about in books, or see in family movies. My father did anything he could to get me what I wanted, even before he got so sick. My mother, too, has been the same, living only for her children, but ever since I moved to California, and even got married to Mike, my mother hasn’t been the same. She’s become more distant from me, even though I was her best friend when I was born. Back in the day, Mom didn’t know how to speak English very well. My dad was working all the time, and when he came home, he would go to sleep right away. Mom was lonely. Now, she loved my father, was very loyal to him, especially in the beginning, but in the last 10 years, things between my parents have been a bit unusual.
Mom is now here with Dad, is very concerned, but is talking about leaving for Germany again on Tuesday to help a friend of the family who is dying of prostate cancer. He’s not in the hospital, not yet, but she’s still feeling like she has to make a return. She just got back from Germany two weeks ago. I’m ok with it. I’ve gotten used to it. But, I’m nervous because if she’s not here, and Dad continues to decline, she may not be here in time for his passing.
I’m ok. Before I got on the plane, though, I was crying at the ticket counter, and I fought back the tears, so much to the point where probably all the ticket agents could see was a gloss over my eyes. Once I turned around to walk for the security line, my face cringed. I caught the tears before they could roll down my face and this anxiety continued as I got in the security line. Before I got to the gate at San Diego, I took a few pictures of the airport and of the scene outside the window of the airport, too, just to remember this day. I love San Diego, used to live in La Jolla back when I worked for JT USA. I remember flying home to Florida to see my family, my dad would pick me up from the airport once I got to Ft. Myers, and I started to think about the good ole days.
Then, before I got on the plane, I wanted to get a book, most particularly a book about death and dying. Sounds morbid, I know, but I wanted to read about what other people went through, or read something that could help me be stronger before I got home.
I also thought to myself and started praying with my eyes opened, while walking to the gate and said, “I hope the person next to me is someone that can help me cope.” I started to read my book, I closed the book, and she said, “I read that book.” She then asked me why I got the book. I told her because my father was in the hospital and things didn’t look so good. I went on to tell her basically my family’s background and why I became my father’s power of attorney. It was amazing. God is real. I didn’t instigate the conversation, and was ready to just read the book, stare out the window, and fall asleep during the 5-hour trip from San Diego to Charlotte, but instead, this almost Earth Angel struck up a conversation with me, as if she was like a Therapist, or something. The words that came out of her mouth were so helpful and calmed me down.
I’ve got to get some ZZZzzzz’s, even though I can’t sleep. But, I’m going to meditate and pray over my father, hoping to give him some strength. I wish I could be in his place so I can take away his suffering. I think if I was in this situation, I would fight it. I’m my father’s daughter, therefore, I believe Dad will fight. But, if God decides it’s his time, I will accept it and do my best to be at peace. Have to have faith.
11/16, 12 NOON
I woke up a couple of times during the night to the nurse and/or CNA that came in to check my Dad’s vitals. At sunrise, my mom suggested I go home to take a shower. My mother hasn’t left the hospital since I arrived last night. She’s Super Woman. I told her that she should go home and shower, but she’s going to wait until after lunch.
I got back to the hospital at 9AM and brought with me paperwork like receipts from years ago when my dad was first diagnosed with Parkinsons Plus. My mother had called me while I was making my way back to the hospital that the doctor wanted to speak with me. When I got there, I got my notes ready, past receipts in hand, and spoke with the neurologist about Dad’s medical history.
In the late Summer/Fall of 2005, Dad told us the shocking news that he was diagnosed with Parkinsons. When I came home from California and saw my Dad sitting in the corner of his room in a recliner, his faced looked droopy and pale, I cried out loud. It was then that I made the decision to go home to Florida and take care of my Dad as his primary caregiver. I had help from a CNA 4 hours in the day, while working my part-time job, and did so all the way until this past April (2008). For almost three years, I took care of my Dad, and did everything necessary, as if I was a CNA or even a nurse, myself. So much has happened since the Fall of 2005, not just with my Dad’s life, but within every single member of our family’s life. My mother’s denial, my brother’s divorce and child custody battle, my marriage to Mike… All that happened while still trying to have a life in the paintball world.
Anyway, when my mother called me yesterday morning (Sat 11/15 730AM), she was frantic and sounded scared. Crying, she told me that I had to talk with the nurse and doctor. The issue: my father’s difficult breathing and the swelling in his throat. With that problem meant that it would mean life-saving measures like either putting a tube down his throat to help him breathe and/or putting a feeding tube in his stomach (so he could get the nutrients and medication he needed if he failed the swallow test scheduled for Monday).
After meeting the neurologist, he shared with me the fact that they were going to do a swallow test and if he failed to swallow, the next thing would be to talk about inserting a feeding tube into his stomach. Dad told me that he would only do the feeding tube if he still had his mentality, and after talking with Dad all morning long, reading him messages and comments posted and sent to me here on myspace, and even text and email messages delivered, he’s definitely coherent.
The worry was that Hope Hospice wasn’t going to take care of Dad if the hospital put a feeding tube in his stomach. That’s considered an aggressive measure. I was called outside to the hall because the Hope Hospice Care Resources Representative wanted to talk to me via phone. After my conversation with her, she shared that the issue with the aggressive measure wasn’t with not being able to care for him anymore, it was more about the billing and payment situation. Can you believe that? Over who was going to pay for the procedure, if that would be what we would do (going the feeding tube route).
Dad’s doing much better now. He’s resting. He smiled at me today, and smiled at the sound of his older brother’s voice and even my cousin, his niece, Kelly, called to say some encouraging words that people and family were praying for him.
As mentioned before, I read all the messages and posts friends wrote to my dad and said them aloud to my father. He was wide-eyed, staring up at the ceiling, while I read them.
It’s really encouraging and comforting to know that people care, and it’s been helping not just me, but my family. SO THANK YOU.
11/16 830PM
At about 1PM, the lung doctor came into the room, and she told me that she took a look at the X-Ray of his lungs and it’s not really a pneumonia now that’s making it hard for him to breath, but the fact that his lungs are not expanding properly. The Respiratory Specialist came in and did some treatments, shoved something down his nose, and tried to suction, but the tube only went down so far. Dad’s so rigid that he can’t move his neck to the left or right, so the specialist could adjust dad’s head to get the tube down the nose canal to reach the lung area and suck the phlegm. After he left, however, the lung doctor explained that it was more an issue of the lack of lung expansion. So, his breathing is real short, in other words, when he goes to take a breath, it’s not deep, but brief.
So the neurologist suggested the swallow test, but the lung doctor was like, “I don’t know why they’re going to do the swallow test; he’s most likely going to fail because he can’t swallow on command.” She was in the room when she said this and I was afraid that my Dad could overhear our conversation. So, I didn’t want to ask any negatives like, “So, how much longer do you think he has?” or “Do you think that even if we decide to put the feeding tube in his stomach that his lungs will get better?” I already knew the answer. The Multi System Atrophy (Parkinsons Plus) that Dad has, is a rare, mysterious, and progressive disease, which means things like lung’s weakening, the throat’s epiglotis (the flap in the throat that prevents anything from going down the trachea and directs it down the esophagus), and etc.
All day today, I read messages to my father from friends who posted herein, I called family members and friends of my Dad’s and put them on speaker phone so they could say words of encouragement to him, I’ve been talking into my dad’s ear, telling him how much I love him, telling him stories of what happened with Destiny at the NPPL, stories of people who asked about him while I was at the event, even stories from books I’m reading about the after-life. Then, I pulled the recliner chair alongside my dad’s bed and tried to line it up as if I was in the same bed with him, reached over, touched his hand and said, “Dad, I’m right next to you.” He opened his eyes a little, then closed them. I fell asleep in the chair next to him, and I set the chair in such a way where if I opened my eyes, I could see his face, and he could see mine. A couple times, the nurses would come in to check his vitals. At around 6PM, I woke up hungry, went down stairs to the cafeteria, and when I came back, Mom was in the room with Dad, asking, “Where’s my daughter?”
Mom sent me home to go and eat rice and cucumber kimchi. I spent the hour eating and sitting with Mei-Lin and watched the Disney channel with her. She said, “It’s ok if he dies. God will take care of him.” And she said it so innocently. I asked, “Where did you learn that?” She said, “I just know.”
I came back to the hospital at 8PM and plan on staying the night here again. Tomorrow morning, our family doctor is going to be here. We’ll go over some heart-wrenching issues, I am sure, about the idea of trying to prolong dad’s life and if a feeding tube is the right decision if he does indeed fail the swallow test, like the lung doctor is suggesting.
The next step is to decide where Dad should go next, and most likely, if things don’t look like they’re going to get better, I have to make a hard decision by putting him into the Hope Hospice Home where he will most likely live his final days.
Who knows. He can either come out of this miraculously or go in peace. What Hope Hospice tries to do is to bring him as much comfort, without pain.
Thank you for keeping dad in your prayers. It has been such a coping mechanism for us, as I have been reading the messages aloud to my Dad and family.
11/17 Monday, 10AM FL time:
I’m really tired. Last night, I stayed the night again with Dad. This time, I slept on the cot, and Mom slept on the recliner chair. Before we fell asleep, I got really frustrated and angry. I tried my best to avoid it, but it took a hold of me and I had to walk out of the hospital.
Mom kept saying how she had to leave for Germany again to help a family friend. Then, I got a phone call from my 80-year old Great Uncle, which is my grandfather’s brother on my father’s side. He called while I was in the hospital. As I was trying to explain what was going on, I tried to walk to the area where the stairs were, but the security stopped me and said that I needed to get off the cellphone since it interupted the machines. My Uncle let me go, but I was a little agitated. Just the way that the security guard said it and how this other lady was folding her arms next to him, as if she was his bodyguard, or something. I am sure it was more of my perception, but I wasn’t happy, to say the least.
I went back to Dad, and Mom was coming across to me as irritable. I started to hate myself because I was feeling bothered by my mom constantly saying, “He’s got a fever!” when they just checked his vitals and his temperature was at a 98.8 (normal). Earlier that day, they turned Dad on his side to give him a Tylenol suppository, and as they did that, the needle in his hand, the IV, it must have gotten pushed too hard while he was laying on it because it started to drip a mixture of blood and other fluid. The nurse was like, “Oh, it’s ok. It’s not leaking, otherwise, his hand would swell.” Then, another nurse came in and when I questioned it, she said, “If there was something wrong, his hand would be swelling.” When my mom got back from going home, she noticed the blood droplets and wetness around my dad’s gown. She said, “It’s leaking!” and I said, “There were two nurses in here that said it was ok.” My mom kept insisting that they change it and sure enough, the specialist came in and said, “Yes, you’re right, it does need to be replaced.” I was pissed. I was like, “Damn, I just asked them to check it.” I mean, at the time, it didn’t look like an issue, but of course, it did become one.
So, I had to walk out. I called Mike and Mike was already frustrated with the fact that he and the Ironmen didn’t do well at all at the SD event. So, Mike was doing the best that he could to calm me down and said all the right things to help me. Before I could talk to him, though, I was so upset, I was ready to leave the hospital. But, Mom cried and said she didn’t want me to leave. I felt bad because I was in such a bad mood. I came back upstairs and pulled out the cot to try and go to sleep. I stayed up late to do some promotions for the Grand Finale game coming up in December, then replied to and wrote some emails. After I finished, I got up from the cot, went over to my Dad, he opened his eyes. I said, “Dad, I love you.” He closed his eyes. I held his hand, touched his head, stared at him in the dark. Then, I walked over to where Mom was on the recliner chair, said, “Mom, put your legs up,” and pushed the button to click open the bottom part of the chair, so she could put her legs up. I kissed her forehead and said, “I’m sorry.” I was sorry for getting frustrated with her. I was mad because I don’t want her to leave for Germany. What if Dad goes while she’s away?
For a long time, I was the only one really caring for my father a majority of the time and doing all the nitty gritty work. My brother’s way of coping is to not spend so much time with Dad. Mom, she’s away for a majority of the year, these past few years since the crap hit the ceiling, and I was the responsible one who tried to not just take care of my Dad, but also keep a job and try to have somewhat of my own life to keep my sanity.
I asked my Mom nicely the next morning that I wanted her to stay. Now was not the time for her to leave anywhere. The man overseas is not in a hospital and is being taken care of by his other friends. Why did my mom have to leave? She agreed, she needed to stay.
The doctor came in that morning at 8am and he told me that the Speech Therapist would be in to do the swallow test. When she came, Dad was staring at her, but couldn’t respond to her commands like “Close your eyes for me,” or “Squeeze my hand.” But, when I asked him to close his eyes if he wanted the feeding tube, he did close his eyes. I asked him, in front of the Speech Therapist, three times; she witnessed it, and so did Mom. But then later, I asked the same question, and Dad was not responsive, but just staring at me. It was like his eye lids couldn’t shut, even though maybe he was trying to get them to close, they just weren’t doing it - paralyzed.
This disease, this “Multi System Atrophy” is so mysterious. Truly, no one really knows what Dad has except that it’s some neurological disease that’s progressive. It’s basically paralyzed him, and occassionally, he can raise his arm, but only to a certain point, slowly, before it starts to tremor.
We’re at a standstill. We told the doctor that we didn’t want the feeding tube and that we wanted to take him to the Hope Hospice House that had a bed available for him. We decided this because we are concerned about Dad’s pain level and want him to be comfortable. But what makes me so upset is whether or not we’re making the right decision. Dad signed a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order and that means Hope Hospice would not have put a feeding tube in him and would’ve let him go peacefully, pain-free.
Tears are coming out of my Dad’s eyes, but they did that before because of the dryness in his eyes. But, now we’re starting to wonder, are those emotional tears? Is he afraid? Is he ready to go? Did we do everything we could?
My brother came in at around 130PM and had his lunch with him. He sat with dad while he ate. I went outside to make phone calls. I was so upset, crying, and had to talk to someone. I called Mike’s grandmother, DeeDee. Mike’s Great Grandfather died from having Parkinsons. He also signed a DNR, as well. She told me that he refused to have a feeding tube and insisted on dying naturally. She tried to say what she could to calm me down, and she did. After that, I called my cousin, Kelly, and then called Mike. I continue to be an emotional roller coaster ride, crying for a minute, calm the next.
I finally went back inside, my brother had left, and the priest had stopped by to pray with my Dad and Mom. I have been on the phone all day with the doctor because now, my dad is showing signs of pain. His face is cringing, and he moans at times. I asked my dad, “Dad, you need something for pain?” He stared. “Do you need something for anxiety?” He closed his eyes. So, I asked for something like lorazepam, and the doctor has to order it before the nurse can do anything. I started to cry because I was on the phone with the nurse from Hope Hospice and wanted my dad to be comfortable. I cried more because my Dad knows what he needs; he’s not unaware of what’s going on. To see my dad trapped in his body, without the ability to move or say a word, to even swallow any food or medication, it sickens me. I’m so confused, want to make sure I’m doing the right thing, and have to be the strength of my family right now.
I finally broke down in front of Dad and Mom. Mom and I were both crying while the Hope Hospice nurse was still on the phone. She said, “Bea, you did everything you could.” But, did I? I went over to my dad, took off my glasses, and laid my head on my dad’s chest. I wept.
Right now, it’s 415PM and I haven’t left the hospital yet. I’m exhausted…
At 610PM, Dad was pronounced dead. I was shocked. Just about a half hour before that, I came back from getting me and my mom dinner. My mom told me that Dad was given a pain medicine. We didn’t even notice, but dad started turning color. He went from red to white/yellow.
I am writing this to you now to pray for my Dad’s transition into Heaven. I have to believe he’s in a much better place than here. And I am asking you to pray for him.
I have the weight of the world on my shoulders now. I have to do alot of things to make sure I honor my Dad, my best friend. If there’s anything you want to send that you want to write to my Dad, please send to:
202 8th Avenue
Lehigh Acres, FL 33936
We’re going to have two funerals. One in Florida and the other in New York. My father will be cremated. He was a Veteran, was in the Army. Met my mom in 1967, married in 1971.
Pray for my family.
11/18 1239AM - 156AM
I need to write this down before I forget, and using this blog helps me not only share it with my family and friends that are close to me, but also to have as a way to remember.
When I wrote what I did above, noted at 415PM, but I am trying my best right now to remember the day, and it’s such a blur. Even when I read back on what I wrote, I say, “Oh, yeah, that’s what happened.”
During what I was typing above, Mom said to Dad, “Do you want me to take this out?” and she pointed to the plug in the nose. I stopped what I was typing and started to laugh because what my mom didn’t realize was that it went all the way down to his lungs, down his nose canal. I started to imagine my mom trying to pull it out and realizing by saying, “Oh, this thing keep on coming...” and imagined my mom continuing to pull it out of his nose. Mom didn’t realize that this was helping him breath. So, we all laughed, my dad did by cracking a smile, and I adoringly mocked my mom and said, “Oh, whas wrong? This thing keep coming out?” and my mom started to laugh at herself, because all she was trying to do was try and make my dad feel more comfortable!
Right after I typed the last paragraph above, my brother called and said, “So, what are you going to do? I think you should maybe consider the feeding tube because Dad needs it, he’s probably hungry. I mean, if I was hungry, and didn’t have any food in my stomach, I’d be pissed.” We laughed because he said “I’d be PISSSSSED!” so dramatically. Because it’s so true, my brother does get furious when he’s hungry and really does get pissy, it’s my brother’s nature.
At around 3PM, my Aunt Pat called to make arrangements for my Uncle Dan, my Dad’s only brother still alive, to come to Florida. Initially, they wanted to make sure that this was exactly what Dad wanted. So, I put Uncle Dan on speaker while I asked my Dad, “Dad, close your eyes if you want Uncle Dan to come.” And he closed his eyes obviously. Uncle Dan said, “OK, I’ll be there tomorrow.”
At around 331PM, I wanted to make sure that Dad was going to go to the Hospice House because we already decided that we weren’t going to do the feeding tube, but I was still a little hesitant about not doing it. I called Dr. Tucker and said, “Hey, are you busy?” and he sarcastically replied, “No, I’m out in the back drinking pina coloda’s… yes, I am busy with a patient.” So, I was a little annoyed, I was just being polite by asking the question, because I knew that he was, but wanted to be respectful by asking, so I laughed and said, “Haha… you’re so funny...” and then explained the reason for my call. I had asked him if he got a hold of Dr. Frederick, the Hope Hospice doctor, and he said, “Oh yeah, I did talk to him at about 1PM and he is looking for a Hospice House to put him in that has an available bed.” Even while I was talking to Dr. Tucker on the phone, I kept thinking, “Am I making the right decision by not going with this feeding tube?”
The plan was to bring dad to the Hospice House. After I got off the phone, though, I wanted to ask my Dad again if he wanted a feeding tube because he seemed to be more attentive and I thought about what my brother suggested. Keep in mind, my brother never suggests anything, and he usually just goes with the flow, but for some reason, this time, he said for us to give the feeding tube a try. So, I asked him again, “Dad, close your eyes if you want to have a feeding tube?” and he closed them immediately. I asked him again several times, and he acknowledged a yes through the closing of his eyes every time. My mom said, “Bea, I think so, too.”
I then went outside because I wanted to go downstairs to get something to eat, and I got stopped in the hall by a friend I haven’t seen (Deane Downs mom). She said she was sorry about Dad. Then, the nurse pulled me aside, so I walked away with Nurse Joyce. I believe I talked to Joyce, the hospital nurse on duty, and she said, “So, Dr. Tucker just called and ordered pain meds for him. He’s going to put him on DILAUDID, about 1 mg.” I asked, “Will this make him out of it? Because my Uncle Dan is coming, I don’t want him to not be coherent.” She said, “Yeah, it’s said to kind of put him out of it, and it will slow his breathing a bit.” I said, “Well, I don’t want to put him on the pain med, but I do want to make sure that Hospice House has been ordered.” I remember saying something like that, then I asked her, “I mean, what do you think?” And she said, “I’d want him to be comfortable, not in pain, at least, that’s what I would do for my father.” So, I paused, and this is the part that’s a blue… I don’t exactly remember if I told her not to give it to him, but now that I do, I remember just telling her, “No, just the order for the Hospice House to come and transfer him. And let me ask my dad again, and warn him about the pain med slowing his breathing down.” I do remember saying that. Well, I thought that I would have to sign off on it because Joyce’s words were, “Sign off on taking the meds and ordering Hospice House to come and get him” and so I figured I had to sign my autograph on something. At 437PM, I went back into the room, called Dr. Tucker, and said, “Dad wants a feeding tube.” Dr. Tucker was all, “Dr. Frederick, I just talked to him, and he even thinks that doing that is crazy.” He then went on to explain that the gastrointestinal doctor and the lung doctor would have to approve it. He then said, “I don’t think you should, and we still have to get it cleared with the other doctors, but I will do whatever you want. But, you have to ask yourself if that’s what is in your father’s best interest.” Now, remember, doing a feeding tube was an aggressive measure.
I then called my brother, went downstairs to talk to him on the phone, and to also go to the cafeteria to get something to eat. While I was talking to him, he pulled up into the parking lot, but I stared right at his new used Expedition and didn’t even notice that it was him, and I was still talking to him on the phone. He laughed at me, rolled down the window and said, “Why are you talking to yourself?!” I got in the car, he drove me to get dinner because he asked, “Let’s go eat at the cafeteria. I said, “It’s closed.” So, he suggested we go across the street to eat something.
While we were at Wendy’s, my cousin, Kelly, calls. I told her, Kelly, he wants the feeding tube. She then told me about some of the dangers of doing so, but then after I talked to my brother about the idea of it again, he said, “Whatever we can do to make dad more comfortable, maybe even give him some more days with us.”
We get back to the hospital, my brother drops me off, because now he’s got Mei-Lin with him, and she’s not allowed up there because of her age. I go upstairs, and sit down, told my mom, please eat something, she said, “No, I can’t eat.” I asked why Dad looked different. She said, “Oh, they just came in and gave him pain medicine. Jennifer did it. I said, “It wasn’t Joyce?” She said, “No, no, Jennifer. It was little needle. About this big,” as she showed the measurement between her index finger and her thumb to be about an inch long. I said, “They gave him pain meds? I thought I told her not to give it to him?” I didn’t think anything of it, I was so tired, out of it, and hungry, and didn’t really notice anything until I started to see that my dad was staring up at the ceiling and wasn’t acknowledging my mom. Then, a handful of minutes later, after I ate my entire baked potato, a lady came in with another tray of food. I ate all of that because my mom wouldn’t eat. After I did, I asked my mom to eat something, so she started to eat the pudding. But, before I encouraged her to eat, she was watching a tv program with me, and I think it was something about the after-life, something on Buddhism, on the History Channel. Well, mom was standing up as she finished up her last few bites of the pudding. I walked over to the other side of my dad’s bed, she was on the other, and I felt his head and looked at his face. It was yellowish white, not the red/pink that he had been the last couple of days I had been there with him since I got back from San Diego. I said, “Dad, look at me, Dad!” He didn’t. I touched his eyes, tried to close them, and he opened them right back up. Something was wrong. I started to think, “I hope that he gets out of this by tomorrow. I really want him to be aware that Uncle Dan is here when he gets here from New York.”
Next thing I remember, a lady in a green shirt walked in, she said she was the nurse. I said, “Oh, you gave my dad the med?” She said, “No, I am from Hope Hospice. I talked to you on the phone?” OH, I said, and smiled. “Well, dad’s really indifferent. He doesn’t even look the same. He’s dramatically different.”
The Hope Hospice nurse pressed the hospital nurse’s button and said, “I need a nurse right away.” Then, Joyce walks in the room. I said, “I thought I told you not to give Dad the pain med and to just order the Hospice House to come and transfer him out?” That’s why the Hope Hospice nurse was there, now that I think about it, to see about his transfer out. Well, then Joyce goes, “Come here...” She walked out of the room, said, “Beatrice.” Then, I said, “What’s going on?” She said, “I think he passed.” I said, “WHAT?” She said, “I think he died? His breathing has slowed...” I put my hands to my mouth. I felt sick to my stomach. I was in shock. I waited in the hall for her to get help from the supervisor, they started walking back to room 218, went into the room, my mom was crying, they took the vitals, they got nothing.... Dad was gone. Both my mom and I grabbed my dad, crying so loud, my mom said, “NO! HE’S STILL BREATHING!” and they said, “The heart has slowed, he’s gone.” I said, “Really?! What do we do?!” They said that they could revive him by shocking him, but they said, “You guys have a Do Not Resuscitate, but we can still try and bring him back, but in those cases, people have to be put on a ventilator.” I was floored! I was so pissed and started saying, “I told you not to give him the pain med! Ever since you gave him the pain med, he turned for the worse!” I was looking for someone to blame. I started thinking about malpractice. But, after seeing my dad, he looked like he was asleep. He looked like he was in no pain. I stopped crying. My mom continued. I said, “Mom, what do you want to do. I will do whatever you want.” I said, “Do you want to bring him back? Do you want to shock him?” She said, “I don’t know. This happened so fast!” I then said, “Mom, let’s let him go. He’s not in pain.” She said, “Oh God! Call Billy!” So, I called my brother right away, it was 604PM, and while I was on the phone with him, I was all, “Billy, he’s gone! Should we bring him back?! Come right away...” He said, “Oh God. OK, I’m coming.” After I hung up the phone, I asked, “What was the time?!” They said, “6:10”. I then cried more, held my dad, my mom was shaking him, shaking his head, crying, “NO! NO! Please GOD! NO!” I then called Mike. Told Mike he was gone. Mike asked me if he wanted him to come tomorrow and I said, “Yes, please.” I then called Kelly and told her, she screamed. I tried to explain what happened, and she was confused. She thought that he was getting better, or at least that we would have more days with him. We had gotten a plane ticket for my Uncle Dan to come tomorrow, after all, and Uncle Dan had only got a one-way ticket, because he planned to stay with Dad until he passed.
I then called my Uncle Sergei and told him what happened. My brother got on the phone to call my mom’s minister from the Korean church, Mr. Lee. I then walked over to my laptop that was still on and wanted people to pray for my Dad’s passing and that he would be in Heaven, be with God. After it was posted, people texted, people called.
My Aunt Pat called to help me figure out the next step - funeral arrangements. I talked to her, told her that I would call the funeral home. Two years ago, my mom and I did the painful step of setting up pre-paid funeral arrangements, a payment plan, for both my parents. Kelly called, I put her on three-way with the funeral home. It was an answering service. I started to cry, Kelly took over the talks with the answering service for the funeral home, then I calmed down, talked again.
Then, Evan called my phone. But, I couldn’t stay on the phone. I started to ball again. The minister came walking through the door with his wife at around 830PM. We hugged, then they sang hymns and said prayers in Korean with my mom while I was holding my dad, putting my nose against his head, smelling his hair, he didn’t smell bad at all, but like what I remembered when I was a kid, what I remembered when I bathed him myself… they had bathed him earlier today, he was totally coherent, too, just hours before he passed. We never would’ve thought that he would have died.
It’s crazy because right around when Kelly warned me about the respiratory problems of people who get a feeding tube, how they have to go under to get it done, and how some people, after they do go under, have to have a respiratory machine to help them breath, and sometimes, they are dependent on it after they get out of the surgery… I started to think about the pain med my dad took… how it wiped him out. Started to think about how starved he was, afterall, he hadn’t eaten since the 13th, when he was admitted, on Thursday past. Started to think about his lungs, how they weren’t expanding, how his breathing was so short, but despite him going through all that, he was still there with us, knew who we were, but until he took the pain meds, he wasn’t with us.
I don’t blame anyone for my dad’s passing. They kept telling me that Dad was in a better place. That he could breath. That he could run, walk, talk. And I tried my best to let him go. But, my dad is more than just a man that took care of me growing up, he was my best friend. He knew everything, all my secrets, and anytime I needed someone to console me, he was the one to offer all the right words. If I needed anything, he was the one that did whatever it took to get it for me, even the times where he told me NO a milion times, he still got it for me. He loved everything about me. He thanked me every chance he could, even when he couldn’t say the two words, I could see it in his eyes. I told my dad about everything, even the things that pissed me off and used curse words to describe my anger, and he didn’t reprimand me. Afterall, he’s where I learned those curse words from. But, he was still a believer, went to church, even when my mom was going to the Korean church, my dad still went to the “American” church.
I asked my dad twice, once two years ago, and again a year ago, and questioned if he was scared to die. The first time, he said he was, but the second time, he said no. I asked him again today, if he was afraid, he didn’t blink. I hope I dream about him tonight. I hope he visits me. I hope that I do the best I can to honor my father at the funerals and memorials (Florida and New York).
My mom and I talked, and I told her, “I miss you, Mom.” Our relationship has been rocky since I went to college, then even more bizarre since I married Mike. I was Daddy’s Girl, my brother, Momma’s Boy. But, when I was first born, I was my Mom’s best friend because I was the only one she could talk to. She couldn’t speak English. I asked her, “Mom, did you cry alot when you were pregnant with me? She said, “Oh yeah.”
Mike doesn’t get here until tomorrow night. I’m here, right now, sitting on my father’s bed at our house we grew up in. The house I plan to keep forever. This bed I am sitting on, it’s a queen size, and the side I always sleep on was my father’s. Back in 2006, when he got real sick, we moved Dad into the FLorida Room, so he could see who was coming and who was going since the front entrance door was in his view. Mike and I, after we got married in 2007 last year, we moved into Dad’s room with his permission.
I love you, Dad… Please, stay with me. Be my Angel forever as you were when you were alive, a human.
I have to write a eulogy and an obituary. I have so much to say. Guranteed, I will write about my family’s life, about my father’s illness and what he went through in his heroic battle against this mysterious disease they said was Multi System Atrophy. All I can say now is don’t take for granted the parents that you have. I didn’t take for granted my father and I made sure he knew how much I loved him and how much I will forever love him.
I can’t believe it… I miss him bad. I have to go… I’m crying now, and need to lay down. Pray for my dad. Pray for him, please.
Join Destiny Army! All-female Scenario Team debuting in December!
Looking to recruit 16 active members for the 2009 season.
Any female who shows up to the December event at Wayne’s World wearing a Destiny jersey will have FREE ENTRY! This jersey is also good for free entry at the other scenario events we plan on attending in 2009.
Get your jersey at www. AnimalPaintball. com or if you already have a jersey, that’ll do!
Be a part of history, too!
Trying to break a record - Having the most female players at a paintball event!
Event: Grand Finale 24-hour Scenario Game
Where: Wayne’s World
Ocala, Florida
When: Dec.
6-7
If you’ve been wanting to be a Destiny player, now’s your chance, ladies. This is also a great opportunity to get to know and learn from Coach Mike Paxson. It’s a speedball team in a woodsball/scenario environment.
Come join in on the fun!
Have any questions, comment here!
Hope to see you soon!
Go to www. DestinyPaintball. com for more details!
Sincerely,
Bea Youngs
Owner/Player/Captain Team Destiny & Destiny Army
{body}
Join Destiny Army! All-female Scenario Team debuting in December!
Looking to recruit 16 active members for the 2009 season.
Any female who shows up to the December event at Wayne’s World wearing a Destiny jersey will have FREE ENTRY! This jersey is also good for free entry at the other scenario events we plan on attending in 2009.
Get your jersey at www. AnimalPaintball. com or if you already have a jersey, that’ll do!
Be a part of history, too!
Trying to break a record - Having the most female players at a paintball event!
Event: Grand Finale 24-hour Scenario Game
Where: Wayne’s World
Ocala, Florida
When: Dec.
6-7
If you’ve been wanting to be a Destiny player, now’s your chance, ladies. This is also a great opportunity to get to know and learn from Coach Mike Paxson. It’s a speedball team in a woodsball/scenario environment.
Come join in on the fun!
Have any questions, comment here!
Hope to see you soon!
Go to www. DestinyPaintball. com for more details!
Sincerely,
Bea Youngs
Owner/Player/Captain Team Destiny & Destiny Army
Play with the Pros at Lauren’s Hope Charity event!
I will be at the Lauren’s Hope event with Destiny and the following pro players:
Mike Paxson, Rocky Cagnoni, Nicky Cuba, Oliver Lang, Nick Benisek (LTZ), Alex Savino (Dynasty Entourage), Colt Roberts (X-Factor), Gno Benedicto (Infamous), are all scheduled to come. I’m still working on getting Billy Bernacchia and Rob Landry to the Dec 13-14th event. See the flyer below for more info and see you at the 5th Annual Lauren’s Hope!
{body}
I will be at the Lauren’s Hope event with Destiny and the following pro players:
Mike Paxson, Rocky Cagnoni, Nicky Cuba, Oliver Lang, Nick Benisek (LTZ), Alex Savino (Dynasty Entourage), Colt Roberts (X-Factor), Gno Benedicto (Infamous), are all scheduled to come. I’m still working on getting Billy Bernacchia and Rob Landry to the Dec 13-14th event. See the flyer below for more info and see you at the 5th Annual Lauren’s Hope!
Digital PSM – Paintball Sports Magazine goes digital and is now on the ‘net
November 3, 2008 (Deer Park, NY): Paintball Sports Magazine is proud to announce our online magazine, PSM’s On the ‘Net. Not only will you get the quality imagery, detailed event coverage articles, and the hottest gear reviews, but now you’ll also get to see it right on your computer screen via the World Wide Web!
After our print magazine reaches the newsstands, you’ll be able to see those same pages of the magazine, plus more…on the ‘net. In a flipbook style, you’ll not only be able skim through the action-packed pages, but will also have a chance to get a close-up view of all your favorite paintball images. Want to buy a gun you see advertised in our pages? Just click on the ad and go directly to the website to get more information on how to get it.
PSM’s On the ‘Net is available right now, bringing you 100% of our November issue, which includes video message from our editor-in-chief, Bea Youngs. See the issue in its entirety featuring the mighty Dynasty’s win at the PSP Northeast Open, the Scenario Paintball Players League in New York and Kansas, the Yanks versus the Rebels at the Civil Draw Scenario event, NFL Star Ray Lewis’ charity event including paintball, and so much more!
In future issues, only from the best in the sport, our famous writers like Greg Hastings, Mike Paxson, Jason “foolybear” Lineberger, and Dave “Landshark” Norman, will also have other video messages for you to learn everything there is to know about paintball.
All the best event coverage, images, interviews, and reviews you have come to expect from PSM will now be seen at PSM’s On the ‘Net and it’s all free!
Go now to http://www.PaintballSportsMag.com and stay in the know about all the latest and greatest! No matter where you are, Paintball Sports Magazine, right at your fingertips!
Quote meon an estimate et non interruptus stadium. Sic tempus fugit esperanto hiccup estrogen. Glorious baklava ex librus hup hey ad infinitum. Non sequitur condominium facile et geranium incognito.
