Monday, Monday, Can't Trust that Day
I think my dad might have had his rally. The past few days have been stressful for me and my mother is driving me nucking futs! The hospice nurse came out to see us today. She was impressed with Dad's condition...although his blood pressure and heart rate were a little elevated which can be a sign his body is starting to give out, he was alert and having very little pain. She suggested we utilize the Ativan more, like three times a day. So, Dad had half-a-miligram this afternoon and a full miligram around ten. He was feeling more pain tonight, after having had his bath and shampoo from the home health aide. He seems much more tired but too afraid to close his eyes and go to sleep. He is fighting the meds so much.
I have told my dad I love him and why. I've told him we will all be okay. I've told him how much I'll miss him and remembered many funny moments we'd had together. I told him his life has had meaning. I've told him how many people have loved him and will miss him. I clean him. I tell him it's okay to soil his incontinence brief and that we'll deal with it. I try to maintain his dignity as my father as much as possible. I try to make him laugh as much as possible. I made him smile (the best he can muster) many times today. It was a good birthday.
My mom keeps trying to get Dad to eat. I keep trying to get him to drink water. My mom is not ready for my dad to die. I have told him he is free to leave whenever it gets to be more than he can deal with. My mom is fretting over little plans...getting the oxygen supplier changed, getting more diapers and disposable washcloths, talking about getting in to work Wednesday and Friday. I'm not sure if I'm going to make an important two-hour meeting tomorrow. I should be asleep now...guess the chemicals are letting me down tonight. I will be very surprised if Dad is alive when I wake up tomorrow. Maybe, I think, if I don't go to sleep,...
My son, Mike, has turned out to be wonderful. He and Jen drove in from Pittsburgh on Friday. They took the offered "emergency" $100.00 bill, the one he always kept tucked into a pocket in his wallet, and went to buy gifts from my father to his great-grandchild. They got a pocket watch engraved with the baby's name (Brendan Robert, partly after my father, Walter Robert.), a cup, fork and spoon set with his name on the cup, the fork from his "Great-Nan" and the spoon from his "Great Pop." Oh, and a little, blue stuffed rocking horse. Mike drove Jen back last night and all the way back before 2 o'clock this afternoon. He's planning to stay until after the funeral. He even offered to switch bedrooms once Jen left, so I could have the double instead of my grandfther's old twin. I told him he was nuts if he thought I was going to give up the room I had cleared out and decorated in my taste (scented candle, music, books) and move into the room he'd already turned into a porcine nesting site.
Mike has been wonderful with his grandfather. I even felt secure enough in his ability and tenderness to leave them alone while Mom, my brother and I went to the funeral parlor this evening. Mike has thought to tell his other grandparents (one of the things I had on my mental list last week that my mental eraser wiped away). I'd love to have my in-laws visit. They are fundamental Christians. I spent my time in fundy Christianity in their church or others like it. I miss that sometimes. It would be good to see them. My dad was very involved with a church in Mount Carmel, Pennsylvaina, where he grew up. I think he eventually regretted having gotten away from that. I think he'd like to know he can get back in, especially now.
I'm not sure if my dad is going to be alive when I wake up in the morning. But it was a good birthday anyway. Maybe the best one ever. Ain't life grand? Sometimes, death isn't too far behind.
I reserve the right to rework this post if it doesn't make sense in the morning. A Lunesta and half a Xanax weren't quite doing the trick so the second Lunesta is down the hatch. Mike is here to help out. It will be okay.
Should I go downstairs and make sure everything is okay?...
Clicking "Publish."
I have told my dad I love him and why. I've told him we will all be okay. I've told him how much I'll miss him and remembered many funny moments we'd had together. I told him his life has had meaning. I've told him how many people have loved him and will miss him. I clean him. I tell him it's okay to soil his incontinence brief and that we'll deal with it. I try to maintain his dignity as my father as much as possible. I try to make him laugh as much as possible. I made him smile (the best he can muster) many times today. It was a good birthday.
My mom keeps trying to get Dad to eat. I keep trying to get him to drink water. My mom is not ready for my dad to die. I have told him he is free to leave whenever it gets to be more than he can deal with. My mom is fretting over little plans...getting the oxygen supplier changed, getting more diapers and disposable washcloths, talking about getting in to work Wednesday and Friday. I'm not sure if I'm going to make an important two-hour meeting tomorrow. I should be asleep now...guess the chemicals are letting me down tonight. I will be very surprised if Dad is alive when I wake up tomorrow. Maybe, I think, if I don't go to sleep,...
My son, Mike, has turned out to be wonderful. He and Jen drove in from Pittsburgh on Friday. They took the offered "emergency" $100.00 bill, the one he always kept tucked into a pocket in his wallet, and went to buy gifts from my father to his great-grandchild. They got a pocket watch engraved with the baby's name (Brendan Robert, partly after my father, Walter Robert.), a cup, fork and spoon set with his name on the cup, the fork from his "Great-Nan" and the spoon from his "Great Pop." Oh, and a little, blue stuffed rocking horse. Mike drove Jen back last night and all the way back before 2 o'clock this afternoon. He's planning to stay until after the funeral. He even offered to switch bedrooms once Jen left, so I could have the double instead of my grandfther's old twin. I told him he was nuts if he thought I was going to give up the room I had cleared out and decorated in my taste (scented candle, music, books) and move into the room he'd already turned into a porcine nesting site.
Mike has been wonderful with his grandfather. I even felt secure enough in his ability and tenderness to leave them alone while Mom, my brother and I went to the funeral parlor this evening. Mike has thought to tell his other grandparents (one of the things I had on my mental list last week that my mental eraser wiped away). I'd love to have my in-laws visit. They are fundamental Christians. I spent my time in fundy Christianity in their church or others like it. I miss that sometimes. It would be good to see them. My dad was very involved with a church in Mount Carmel, Pennsylvaina, where he grew up. I think he eventually regretted having gotten away from that. I think he'd like to know he can get back in, especially now.
I'm not sure if my dad is going to be alive when I wake up in the morning. But it was a good birthday anyway. Maybe the best one ever. Ain't life grand? Sometimes, death isn't too far behind.
I reserve the right to rework this post if it doesn't make sense in the morning. A Lunesta and half a Xanax weren't quite doing the trick so the second Lunesta is down the hatch. Mike is here to help out. It will be okay.
Should I go downstairs and make sure everything is okay?...
Clicking "Publish."
posted by Cheryl at
3/06/2006 10:54:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home