Monday...

I didn’t get over to dads until noon. He’s not active at all after the morning time. When I got there Penny, the hospice nurse, was checking in with dad. She went through her usual questions, and checked dad’s wound and his bag. Dad was awake every thirty or so minutes that night because his bag kept inflating and he had to let the air out of it. Penny is going to bring over a vented one on Thursday which will hopefully solve that problem. She asked dad if he was still losing weight. He said the last time he was weighed he was 112. I’m not sure when that was. All of dad’s vital signs are really good. It just amazes me every time. Penny asked dad what his pain was like, and dad said it was still a “2” on the pain scale of 1-10. It’s all in his lower back, and he mentioned that this cancer has been going on for a long time. He said his mistake was that he didn’t call 911 every time he was bent over in pain. He might have been diagnosed a lot sooner and could have gotten treatment, or at least had some hope of surviving.

After Penny left, mom needed to go and check on grandma at the nursing home and she went to visit her brother in the hospital. I spoke with dad for a while, he seemed to be very tired and he just didn’t have the energy to carry on a conversation. His mattress pad had slipped down too far and it was bothering him, so I fixed his bed for him. Once I got him comfortable he had his Ensure and he dozed for a while. When mom got back we watched “Columbo”. I noticed dad was extremely quiet and every time I would glance over at him he had this strained look on his face. Apparently dad’s so dehydrated that within a few minutes of drinking water his mouth goes cotton dry. He was using a wet sponge cu-tip type apparatus in his mouth for a while but he said that caused him to cut back on his water intake. So now he just holds water in his mouth.

Around 4 or so mom came in with the mail, there was a letter from his Insurance Company. I had called the prior week to get a claim form. Dad read it and he put it down and told us that he didn’t think his hospital stay would be covered because of his cancer. I told him not to worry, that I would call and check on it. He was pretty upset by that thought. It took me 10 minutes to get someone on the phone and to get a somewhat encouraging answer for dad. He didn’t mention or seem to worry about it anymore. I told him that I’d be over first thing in the morning so we could work on filling out the claim form together and then I’d run it over to his doctors office pronto.

The only time mom will cook dinner is if someone is with her to eat. She usually eats TV Dinners or soup, which the soup may be healthy, but the rest isn’t. So she cooked a good southern dinner and we sat down and enjoyed a good meal and good conversation. I told her I would come over at noon and stay till 8:30 at least two nights a week just so she’d eat better. No one likes to eat alone…

We watched a movie after I finished cleaning up the kitchen. It was called “Cheaper by the Dozen.” It wasn’t the one that was just made a few years ago. This one was made back in the 40’s and it’s the original version. If you liked the newer one, you need to see the original, it’s much better. I hate to spoil it for anyone, but there was this one scene where the dad dies, and the oldest sister is coming home and she sees her little brother sitting on the stoop steps crying. She asks him what’s wrong and he looks up at her and says “our daddy is dead…” I wasn’t expecting anyone to die in this movie. Not only did I feel awkward but I had to look up to keep from crying myself…

So after the movie I decided it was time to go home. I asked dad if he needed anything and he said he was fine. I patted his leg and squeezed his knee through the soft blanket that was covering him and told him I hoped he had a good night and that I’d see him in the morning. I hugged mom and then left.

Emotionally this was a good day. I don’t feel as devastated or lost at the moment. I have gotten so familiar with how things are with dad that I’m ok most of the time. When dad goes into the next phase of dying, which I imagine will involve more pain, less mobility, less cognitive ability and motor skills, then that will be a whole different emotion for me. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.