Penn Hills woman recalls pain of losing her sister to covid
Editor’s note: This is the first in a series highlighting five people whose lives were reshaped by the coronavirus pandemic.
Kim Fife and her sister, Tami Fife Dixon, talked every day.
They shared thoughts and dreams and reminisced about growing up together. As kids, they dressed alike and slept in the same bedroom.
Fife, 50, and Dixon, 54, had a bond from birth: They were both born on May 7 — four years apart — Dixon in 1966, Fife in 1970.
“She didn’t like it at first,” said Fife, of Penn Hills. “She told me, ‘You had 364 other days you could have been born, but you chose my birthday!’ But once we got older she loved that we shared a birthday.
“It was always ‘Kim and Tami,’ ‘Kim and Tami.’ ”
When they lost their parents, Hazel and Jesse Fife Sr., and an uncle — all in 1996 — they cried and cried, but they clung to each other for support. The sisters also lost two brothers, one to a heart attack and another to cancer.
Fast forward to 2020. The pandemic hit, and life was altered considerably.
But Fife and Dixon still had each other to lean on.
Then in July, Dixon got the coronavirus.
“When she learned she was positive for covid-19, she told me she was scared,” Fife said. It was more troubling for Dixon because she already was battling lupus, an autoimmune disease. “I told her she would be OK and she would fight this.”
Dixon was hospitalized for 12 days, then came home but went back in again in August.
Fife and her nephew, Brennan, Dixon’s son, initially discussed what they would do about end-of-life care when Dixon was admitted to the hospital the second time. The emergency room doctor called Fife to see if her sister had a living will or expressed her wishes if she could not make her own medical decisions.
“At the time Brennan wanted to do everything to save his mother,” Fife said. “We did not speak of it again until the ICU doctor called me early in the morning on Aug. 20. After that I had a discussion with Brennan, that it was time to let her go.”
Dixon had been on a ventilator for three weeks. Still, her oxygen levels kept dropping.
Fife keeps reliving that night Aug. 20 at Allegheny General Hospital on Pittsburgh’s North Side.
She recalls peering through the intensive care unit window at her sister.
“As I looked through that window, I realized it had been weeks since I talked to Tami,” said Fife, a program manager for Cigna. “We never went more than 24 hours talking to each other.”
Dixon never regained consciousness after she was put on the ventilator, Fife said.
Fife said the medical staff was amazing in how they cared for Dixon in her final days. They kept Dixon heavily sedated because she was fighting the ventilator. Fife said she asked the doctor if her sister was suffering, but she wouldn’t give her a straight answer.
“But deep down inside, I knew she was,” Dixon said. “Tami’s oxygen levels kept dropping, and they were having a hard time keeping it up. It was putting a lot of strain on her heart, and they were afraid it would give out.
“Later that morning, I spoke to Brennan and explained everything. I told him that his mom would not want this, and it was time to let her go. It was a very hard decision, and harder to tell her only child that he had to let his mother go.”
Fife said the situation brought back memories of when her mom was dying of cancer.
“I know she was hanging on for me,” Fife said. “The hardest thing for a 25-year-old to do was to tell her mother it was OK to let go and that I would be OK. That was my promise to her. I couldn’t let her stay here and be in pain.”
Fife said once she was fully aware of her sister’s condition and her grim chances of survival, she spoke to the doctors about the process of taking her off the ventilator.
“This is when I learned that they would allow us to be with her,” Fife said.
Fife and Brennan, 30, suited up in full personal protective equipment and went into the hospital room.
“It was the first time I had seen my nephew cry except when he was little. That’s a vision I never wanted to see.”
She and her nephew held Dixon’s hands before she took her last breath.
As fate would have it, Dixon was one of Fife’s three sisters to contact covid-19.
“Covid-19 affects everyone differently,” Fife said. “Tami’s body wasn’t able to fight it off. I can’t believe she is gone.”
The family had a small funeral of 25 because of gathering restrictions as a result of the pandemic.
“I had to make a guest list,” Fife said. “Who has to make a guest list for a funeral? There were so many people who wanted to come, but they couldn’t.”
Fife said this year has been so hard, from losing her sister, to the nation’s racial tension, and the political environment. She said she wouldn’t have made it through this year without the support of her siblings and her fiance, Tom Marshall, her “rock,” who has “been with me every step of the way.”
“People say it’s their right to not wear a mask,” she said. “What about my sister’s right to live? And her right to see her son and stepchildren and her grandson, Noah?”
Fife said her sister would want everyone to wear a mask and to be considerate of other human beings.
“I would give anything to have my sister back,” Fife said.
Fife’s hope is to have a memorial service for Dixon — when everybody who wants to can come — when the pandemic subsides.
“Maybe, just maybe,” she said, “we can celebrate her life on our birthday.”
JoAnne Klimovich Harrop is a TribLive reporter covering the region's diverse culinary scene and unique homes. She writes features about interesting people. The Edward R. Murrow award-winning journalist began her career as a sports reporter. She has been with the Trib for 26 years and is the author of "A Daughter's Promise." She can be reached at jharrop@triblive.com.
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