I think of all the times that I go over and sit with dad, Sundays are my favorite. I basically get him all to myself and I get to cook him breakfast. He will only eat pancakes. He says they are the only things that taste good to him. They have to be a certain size and he likes to dip them in coffee and brown sugar. I tried it; it’s actually not too bad. I think that’s the only way he can drink the coffee at this point.
On Sundays I sit and listen to television sermons for two hours. I don’t mind the sermons, they give me insight, and as long as they don’t go on a tangent about Sodom and Gomorrah I’m ok. Sometimes dad will listen to gospel music; I’m not a fan of it. Not because of the content, but because I’m particular about music in general. After dad ate breakfast, he was using his little urinal and dozed off in the middle of using it. He slept for a good hour. He woke up and was startled. When I asked him if he was ok he told me he had fallen asleep while using the urinal. I apologized profusely for being neglectful, I had no idea… When dad falls asleep I try not to disturb him. I usually just sit on the couch and work on my laptop. I'll glance over and watch him for a minute and then go back to whatever it is i'm working on. I noticed that his breathing has begun to change a little. This time, for a few seconds, I didn’t see his chest moving at all and I panicked. I think I’m expecting him to just go to sleep and not wake up. I want him to go that way, and so does he. I want to be there with him at that moment. I don't want it to happen during the night when mom is in the other room sleeping. I can't imagine what it would be like to get up in the morning and go in and check on him and find him dead.
Sunday morning’s dad and I seem to talk more about things. He told me he was worried about mom finding him dead. I told him he shouldn’t worry about those things. He’s so concerned that he’s a burden on us, I couldn’t stress enough how far wrong he was about that. I told him that he didn’t need to worry about what we were feeling or thinking that we are ok. I told him that I was ok. He instructed me that when he died that I was to cry really hard for one day and then go on with my life. I told him that it was ok, that I didn’t know what form my grief would take. I will cry hard for many days. Some days more than others, but it won’t be something that will happen and then be over with.
We watched two westerns. One I stayed awake for, the other I slept through. After 2:00 pm on any given day, if I’m lying on a couch I fall asleep. If I eat pancakes it only perpetuates it further. It doesn’t help either when you’re in a warm sunny room.
Dad takes a pain pill three times a day, and he has a very hard time swallowing. Sometimes it will get stuck in his throat and mom will have to make him a pancake so he can eat that to force it down. Unfortunately it seems that dad’s swallowing reflex is gradually leaving him. It scares me to think what that’s going to mean for him when that finally does happen. We will need to discuss that further with one of the hospice nurses. I called him last night at 7:30 to say goodnight to him and he was about to take his pain medicine. We talked about his problem with swallowing and it upset me a little. He called me back to let me know that he got it down ok. I just hate this so much…
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