When Dad Was Sick – Part 14

100_02687/11/08 

So what’s happened since yesterday lunch-time is, Clem and Lenore came by and brought a few pieces of peach pie and some fresh peaches.  They visited for awhile.  I was supposed to give Dad liquid morphine every hour on the hour which I sort of did until about 2 this morning and then I fell asleep and by 8 Dad was miserable.  I am a terrible nurse.  I dosed him up but he was restless and uncomfortable.  Kept trying to get up and fell once.  He ended up on his knees with his upper body on the bed, hands folded and he sort of automatically started saying the Hail Mary.  It was sort of sadly funny to see him do it as if he was thinking “I’m on my knees anyway, I might as well pray.”   

Mom went to bed at like 7 saying she was exhausted but then today she said she didn’t think she slept at all.  Dad was coughing and moaning a lot last night and I didn’t sleep too good and couldn’t get to sleep and kept getting up to go to the bathroom.  I probably should have dumped morphine down Dad every time I got up, but I didn’t.   

But he’s settled today.  The hospice nurses came.  They ordered a hospital bed which will be here later today and that will make it easier to care for him.  They also put a catheter in.   They discussed “the end” with us and what to look for and what to do.  Susan wanted to make sure the appointment with Dr. Miller got cancelled.  She said she’d do it.  Like that’s a priority.  She never thought we should have had an appointment in the first place, but that was Dr. Sacry’s suggestion and doing.  So whatever. 

Mom seemed annoyed and like she didn’t really like the idea of putting a hospital bed in there and taking apart the other twin bed.  “But where will we put the other bed?”  We suggested the garage.  “But that garage is so dirty.”  So we said we’d put it in the other bedroom.  Everyone agreed the hospital bed was a good idea, so she finally said, “Oh, okaaay,” in her snippy disgusted tone.   

Like the twin beds are any prize.  The box springs have to be 30 years old, I swear they are.  Can’t a new box spring be purchased?  Seriously?  They hardly cost anything.  And the mattresses are pretty cheap and uncomfortable.  I know because I’ve slept on them in the past. 

She must have asked I don’t know how many times about the catheter and where would the urine go.  Kevin just explained it to her again.  She has apparently forgotten that Dad had a catheter in a couple of weeks ago.  Her mind is mush. 

But, back to the beds, once again, it’s about HER.  Not Dad’s comfort or what is best for him.  It’s what we’re all railroading her into that’s inconveniencing her or changing things for her.  Never is it about anything or anyone else. 

The nurses think maybe he’ll last another week, so I’m going to go home this afternoon as planned.  Chris and Mel will need the space and I really don’t want to stay any longer.  If they’d said, he’s got 24-48 hours, I’d probably stay, but it sounds like it will most likely be a little longer than that.  So, send in the next team and I want them to have their time with him as well, even though it won’t be very quality time as he’ll probably be pretty out of it from now on. 

And that’s all I have to say about that.

The When Dad Was Sick posts of the past two weeks are excerpted from a journal I kept during the time I spent staying with my parents in Missouri before he died. I flew back to Florida on a Friday. The following Sunday, dad passed away. Before I left, I told Dad it was okay to let go and that he’d been a good dad. I don’t know if he heard me. I like to think he did. It’s been eight years. I know he’s still with me, but I miss him so much.

#parents #hospice #grief

 

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