Keeping a family man at the heart of his family
Loving care keeps Dave Hagan at home battling ALS
By DONNA HICKMAN\Daily Journal Staff Writer

Donna Hickman / Daily Journal Bev and Dave Hagan share a laugh as she coaxes him to pose for a picture. “There is a loving atmosphere here. There is joy here,” said Bev’s brother, Jimmy McMillian, who helps to care for Dave.Dave Hagan has always been a family man. He took his girls camping. He taught them to fish. When they wanted to swim, he set up a swimming pool. When his daughter Misty wanted a swim party for her early April birthday, he hooked up a black hose and pulled the pool into the sun so they could swim in warm water.

“Daddy's always been my hero,” said Misty Stone. “He still is.”

“He has always believed in me,” said Dawn Rosener, Dave's youngest daughter.

“My dad encourages me with his strength,” said Wendy Zayas, another daughter.

This father who thrived on caring for his family now thrives because his family cares for him. Dave has Amyotropic Lateral Sclerosis, also known as ALS or Lou Gehrig's Disease. And as the disease slowly takes away the life he loved, his family brings life to him.

“Can I bring a puppy over for Dad to hold?” asks Dawn, who calls her mother about her black Labrador.

“Sure,” says Bev Hagan and as she hangs up the phone, she smiles and says, “We all do what we can.”

A granddaughter calls to ask if she can get off the school bus at the house. Other grandchildren carefully avoid the tubes when they climb up into bed to hug “Paw Paw.”

The diagnosis came two years ago after Dave began slurring his speech. Doctors first treated him for a stroke. As his symptoms worsened, medical tests confirmed ALS, a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord. Victims eventually lose the ability to move any part of their bodies, though, in the majority of people, their minds remain unaffected.

The diagnosis told Bev it wouldn't be long before Dave would be unable to do the things he loved, so she helped him do them for as long as he could. She bought a golf cart so he could play on the courses he once walked for hours. When he became homebound, she bought a pool table so he could play.

She saved his message on his cell phone to hear his voice when the day came he could no longer speak. While they could, they talked candidly about where the disease would take them. Dave told her to do whatever was needed to keep him alive. Bev promised she would. There have been days when it was all too much and he would say he had changed his mind, but Bev reminded him she would keep the commitment she made.

When his tongue could no longer direct food for him to eat, doctors attached a feeding tube. When his lungs became too weak to move air through his body, Bev had doctors attach a respirator. She said the Veterans Administration pays for all the equipment he needs. In March, doctors told Bev to place him in a nursing home. But, Bev wanted her family man at home - his home. And that's just where he is.

Loving Care

Bev McMillian was only 12 years old when she met the 16-year-old Dave Hagan. Her friends were impressed when he would drive up to school and play music loud on the radio.

“He's always been a real cut-up,” she said. “He used to talk like John Wayne and he'd say, ‘Take heart, little lady, I'll fix her wagon!' He always took care of me.”

They married in 1966. A year later, he was training at Fort Leonard Wood and was sent to Vietnam. In the Army, he drove a water truck and wore a backpack to spray Agent Orange, the powerful herbicide and defoliant used in the jungle.

“When he came home, there I was with Misty, who was 9 months old and had never seen her father, and I'm trying to make my way through a crowd of protesters who are yelling at the Vets coming home. They're yelling, ‘baby killer' and all sorts of awful things. He never got a real welcome home.”

The memories of war came home with him and Dave suffers with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The couple lived in St. Louis. Dave made a living installing floors. The family moved to Bonne Terre in 1992. Bev worked as a church secretary and bus driver. Then, in 2003, she and Dave opened Floors Galore and More. Bev closed the business in April to spend more time with Dave.

Misty, her husband Jim and their two children made the decision to move into her parents' home about a year ago. Misty had taken nurse's training while in high school. She believed that training would help her care for some of her father's medical needs.

“It was sad here at first,” said Misty. “We didn't know what we were doing. We were scared. But now we know. If me and my mom didn't have each other, I don't know what we'd do.”

Misty's is the first face her father sees every morning.

“Dave beeps her at 5 a.m. to come in and give him a hug,” said Bev, explaining how he has a pager at his fingertips. They've attached a doorbell Bev can press in an emergency that rings in the basement where Misty sleeps.

“I sleep on a rolling bed on an air mattress and I get up with him at night when he needs it,” Bev explains. “The alarms sound if his respirator or feeding tube needs attention.”

When he's in pain, Dave raises the index finger on the only hand he can move to ask for pain medicine. When he's asked a question and the answer is no, he gives a thumbs-down. Thumbs-up means yes. He breaks into a grin when his family is in the room and his eyes study those of the visitors who stop in to share his day.

On days when Dave is worse, both Misty and Bev are by his side. On better days, one of them goes out to visit friends, goes shopping or just spends time outdoors. Bev's brother, Jimmy McMillian has moved in, too, doing the chores Dave can no longer do.

“He's such a good guy,” said Jimmy. “I feel honored whatever I can do for him.”

Every morning, Bev hooks up a portable oxygen tank to give Dave a shower in a recently installed handicap accessible setup. Misty changes the bedding and the hoses on the machines that feed him and breathe for him. Together, Bev and Misty lift him back onto his bed. Bev re-attaches a catheter. Sometimes, she gives him a small piece of Dove chocolate and keeps watch to make sure he doesn't choke as the treat melts in his mouth. Exhausted, Dave may sleep until noon.

Throughout the day, family and friends come in and out.

“I visit as often as I can and tell Dad how my kids are doing in school and just tell him about the things we're doing,” said Wendy.

There are also visits from home health professionals like Robin Sims, a respiratory therapist.

“This is such a great family,” she said. “Everybody is willing to learn whatever they have to learn to take care of Dave. It's a lot cheaper for her to take care of Dave at home than for him to be in a facility. He gets better care here, too.”

Bev rejects any praise for what she does for this husband who she says spoiled her throughout their 40-year marriage.

“I am committed to him as his wife,” she said. “I know home is where he wants to be. ALS is a very short term illness. No one really knows how long he has. We will spend all the time with him we can. I'm going to spend every moment I can with my husband.”

There is joy here

There's an American flag in the yard and a ramp leads to the door of the Hagan home in rural Bonne Terre. Inside, there's music with a vibrant beat playing on the radio.

“This is a loving atmosphere here,” said Jimmy. “There is joy here and that has a lot to do with how Dave has maintained his health.”

Above the door to Dave's room, there's a plaque that reads, “Believe.” Bev says she believes in healing for Dave and others with ALS. But the plaque also means something more.

“I believe whatever happens, God will give me the strength and courage to get through it. I'm not mad at God. He didn't give Dave this. We have walked with God every day. Our life has never been easy, but God takes care of us.”

Dave, now 58, sees the world from his hospital bed. Bev has moved a computer into the room so she can talk with her husband about the things she reads on the Internet. In the corner, there's a 42-inch TV set where Dave watches movies often.

“War of the Worlds” and “Finding Nemo” are his favorites.

Lately, he's watched while wearing a Vietnam Veterans cap that Bev bought for him. He's hardly taken it off and that gave his friends an idea. On Veterans' Day, Nov. 11, they gathered outside his window to give Dave the thanks he never received. They read, “We have come to show you our love, our respect for your bravery and our appreciation for what you have done for each one of us.”

With tears in his eyes, Dave raised his right hand in a salute, then gave his friends a thumbs-up. Bev cried.

“It blessed me as much as it did Dave!” she said. “When they honored Dave, I felt like it honored me also as his wife who has seen the effects of Vietnam and the ridicule he faced when I met him at the airport.”

Ironically, a new report released just before Veterans' Day suggests a link between military service and ALS. The Department of Veterans Affairs is studying the research.

On Thursday, Dave's family will gather to continue a Thanksgiving tradition. Each person will say something he's thankful for this year. Bev knows what she will say.

“I am thankful that Dave is alive and we're here together. And I think Dave would say he is thankful he is home with his family.”

Dawn said, “For being a speechless man with ALS, I can feel he loves me and the bond and love that has grown so deeply has not faded.”

Dave Hagan's life always revolved around his family. Now his family's life revolves around him.

“I am learning from Dad that it takes a lot to want to live,” said Wendy. “I see how hard he tries every day to stay alive.”

Bev said the experience of caring for Dave has strengthened her family and inspired Misty to plan to return to school one day to become a nurse.
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