day 19 Evil hours

My sister and nieces visited today.
They bestow on me a gift of freedom!

Young niece wanted to feed grandpa and older niece wanted to talk with him.
All progressed nicely until about 4PM. 4PM is 7 hours after happy pill and 1 hour before happy pill. This is a bad time... an hour of the day which should have a bright neon sign reading BEWARE or CAUTION or DO NOT ENTER
In this hour he always decides he wants to get up and go... guess where?
You're right!
He wants to go to the bathroom... but of course since he can't walk...
he can't get up...
and hence..
he can't "go" to the bathroom.
After we take care of this problem (which usually involves some yelling... something like this:

Dad: Don't do that!"
Me: We have to take your pants off if you want to go to the bathroom."
Dad: Leave me alone!
Me: Do you have to go to the bathroom?"
Dad: Yes. I do.
Me: Then we have to take your pants off
Dad: Don't do that....

The kitchen is converted into a bathroom... my mom and I help him to stand (which he can do quite well now when he wants to and when he doesn't I have to hold his 180 pounds up...
Dad and I stand by the sink... mom takes the chair away... pulls down dad's pants... moves the portable toilet into position and then helps me to sit dad down...
all the while my dad is yelling that he can't do it (but the angrier he gets the more his own legs support him)
I am holding most of his weight saying "get the chair mom" like that moment in YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN when Gene Wilder is wedged in the revolving bookcase and mutters "Put the CANDLE back"
While dad sits on the toilet he is desperate and sometimes crying or yelling in pain.
Then its the whole thing all over again except in the opposite direction)

After the "bathroom horror show" There is the "Depressed hour" which involves dad telling everyone... including his 12 and 10 year old granddaughters... that he wants to die.

Then finally he takes another happy pill...
and 20 minutes later...
he is peaceful

This really sucks... this really is not easy... to watch him... to see him live a life... no to see him forced to exist in this way.
Sometimes (and if any of my family is reading this I apologize... I am only human and want to write down... document the truths of my experience)
sometimes... I think... what if I fed him too much food to quickly?
maybe he would choke?
would that be what he wanted? what he wants?
What if I became confused and gave him too many pills?
would that be what he wants?
What if I leave something dangerous... a knife... a gun.... poison in his reach
would he have enough conscious to see it
to know it
to use it?

What is my true role as his son? If my father says "kill me"
MY FATHER... do you understand?
if he asks me to do this?
what rules do I follow
society's? Do not kill him... keep him safe... keep feeding him happy pills
Dad's? Find a way to end it...
Mine? I don't even know what my wish truly is...