This is a strange Blog
I am afraid it is not turning out to be quite what I had in mind.
I think because
even when life feels dull
and
like a cage
it unravels unpredictably
and turns and turns and turns
Dad did not return home today.
Last night he spiked a fever.
This morning they heard congestion in his lungs
They think he has obtained another infection
probably from the "pick" (the needle inserted into his vein)
And that he has re-developed pneumonia...
The doctor thinks now... that his alzheimer disease
and
his parkensons (they feel he has it beyond a doubt)
have progressed to a point
that they (the diseases) are actually interfering with dad's body's ability to heal itself.
apparently that is often how debilitating diseases of this kind work.
Not only are there outward signs of failure and change
but inward experiences as well.
I sat in the room next to my mother as we listened to a social worker talk about hospice and end of life issues...
I was quite surprised actually
wasn't completely ready for that
It isn't so bad... maybe
hospice can happen at home
and its not really end of life care all the time
especially in my father's case...
what the doctor and social worker were trying to tell us
is
that things like antibiotics... do not work so well for someone in my dad's condition.
and there has to come a point were you have to admit that things of this nature do not help him.
That's when hospice steps in.
Dad may (and probably will) improve
oh... I don't even think I know what i am talking about right now. I understood before... but in writing it it doesn't hold up.
We just have to decide whether we want to keep treating dad in the conventional way
(which leaves him lifeless, but alive... hooked up to an oxygen tank... while medication constantly drips into him... while in a hospital... while deteriorating)
or whether we want to bring him home (where we can still administer medication) and try to keep him more comfortable... but except that hospital care has no hope to improve him.)
maybe that's closer to what I am trying to say?
My mom started to cry.
of course
she said, "I need your father in so many ways."
She said, "We never talked about this. I want to know what he wants."
She feels so guilty.
so do I, by the way... but for different reasons.
I am happy he has the stomach peg because I feel guilty for possibly not recognizing the signs and helping him get pneumonia in the first place... every spoonful (as artistically enacted in my play) was painful for me... when he coughed I became so tense... and finally he ends up with pneumonia and I HELPED GIVE IT TO HIM
I know its irrational to guilt myself... but you can't talk about irrational and guilt to a once catholic
it doesn't help.
I feel, secretly... (and I guess I mean secretly from my mother) that we should stop giving him antibiotics... we should stop giving him oxygen... we should bring him home. Yet another reason to feel guilty.
If it is how I expect... and he himself has no real will to live... than at this point... maybe he shouldn't be alive.
And if I am wrong and he does will himself to live... we will probably see that here... recognize it... and do what we can to help him.
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