I went to see Dad after I got off work. I got there just as they were lifting him out of bed to take him to dinner. He was yelling because he was in pain but he wasn't angry. As soon as he saw me he smiled and relaxed a little. I talked to him and rubbed his shoulders while they finished getting him into the lift. The used the lounge chair on wheels. He was in a good mood and pretty chatty. When they wheeled him out he saw one of his caregivers and yelled, "Hey, there's my girlfriend!" So, even though he's not as good as he was a few weeks ago he's still there and he's still Stan. It was nice to see him looking so good.
It took them a while to bring out his tray. While we were waiting I pulled out the uke and sang some songs. The longer we waited, the more subdued Dad became. He wasn't just dozing, he was slipping back into the fog. When his tray came it was hard to rouse him enough to feed him. His food is total mush now and they're giving him thickened liquids. I didn't have the heart to try to give him the thickened milk. At least the juice is kind of like runny jello. He refused to eat the meat mush but he was ok with the mashed potatoes. I don't know what the green stuff was. Probably peas. The whole time his face was screwed up into a disgusted grimace. He ate and drank very little. And most of the time he was really out of it.
After I gave up trying to feed him I sang him some songs without the ukulele. I was trying to come up with any song that he used to sing around the house. I kept trying to encourage him to sing with me. When I sang When I Grow Too Old To Dream he did hum along. Just barely, though. Even so, it was nice that he could hum along and I think he was happy that he could do it. It was hard to keep from choking up. After a while he was pretty unresponsive, so I left.
So, it's hard to say how much longer he'll be with us. When I saw him last week he truly looked like he was at death's door. Today he was much better but only for a little while. When they tested his blood sugar it was 219. Maybe the insulin shot caused him to zone out.
Anyway, we're still in this thing. After Dede's email I went through some emotional stuff. I could see I really wasn't ready for Dad to go, but now I think I am. It was such a struggle for him to eat. It looked like it hurt him to swallow. Even if he does have some good moments in his day the rest of it is spent in suffering. They take such good care of him there but in a way it seems cruel.
Oh well, we'll see.
2 comments:
Thickened liquids sound truly horrible. How do you quench your thirst? KC says the patients at her nursing home just hate them.
-dean
Oh man, I know. My Aunt Ruth had to use them after her last big stroke. That's the first time I had even seen that. Ugh! I wonder if that's what Dad really needs. When I saw him the last time I spooned water into his mouth and it really helped him to swallow. The thickened stuff just seems to gum up the works. I'm going to ask Dede about that.
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Ok, I just called her. She's going to talk to his caregivers and suggest that they offer him some non-thickened stuff just to help stimulate him to swallow.
frumbion- where those ghostly messages come from.
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