A roller coaster day. Dad's graveside service was 11 this morning. The weather was foggy, drizzly and in the 40's. Horrible. The pastor came out and said some nice things, then I got up and said a few words. There were a couple dozen people in attendance. Afterwards, family members got together for a buffet style lunch and a chance to catch up with each other.
Shortly after I got home, the doorbell rang. It was a neighbor with a huge poinsettia plant and a card. Following on her heels was the postman with a couple of packages.
Not long after that, I heard a sound on the front doorstep. I opened the door and there was a bag that phone books normally come in. It wasn't phone books though. It was two copies of Texas Family Magazine (http://texasfamilyonline.com). The editor herself (http://candidlycaroline.com) had dropped them off for me. She was giving me a couple of copies because a photo of mine was published. The Texas state capitol building taken at night with a huge Christmas tree lit up in front. My first piece of work published.
Like I said, a roller coaster day.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
It's hard to believe that a year's gone by and I have made not one post. Right after what would've been my wife's 51st birthday, I received a call from my brother. He was frantic. He'd been on the phone to our Dad and he heard a thud. He couldn't hear my Dad talking anymore. I live about 7 minutes away, so I rushed out there. I was able to grab a hidden key and get in the door. He was on the floor. There was blood on the carpet. He'd fallen and was coming to.
He was wanting to get to his easy chair. There was no way I could lift him myself and I told him to stay where he was and not move. I called for the ambulance. Deja vu all over again. I explained the situation and they were on their way.
The fire truck got there first. 3 big burly guys starting helping him. I explained what I thought happened. It was his brain cancer. Yes, the same cancer we found out about the same time we were told my wife's melanoma was back. His surgeon had given him two years at the most and it had been 25 months.
The ambulance showed up. I insisted on him going to the hospital. He hates hospitals. I told him he had no choice. I hated to do it, but sometimes you just to take over and make the decisions. I grabbed his meds and his wallet, plus some extra clothes. By that time, my brother had shown up and was helping with the questions that seem to be coming from all sides.
It was another long night at the hospital. Things are not good when you know the ER staff by their names. We got him admitted and they began running tests. While they were doing that, I got on the phone to my significant other who was down on the coast. (Did I tell you I had been seeing someone new for a couple of months up until then?) Long story short, Dad had fallen a couple weeks before on the hilly drive up to the mailbox and didn't tell anyone. He's never been one to burden anyone, but this time, the fall caused a laceration in his right hand which led to an infection that traveled to his brain causing dizzy spells.
He was in the hospital for a month and hated every minute of it. My SO used her medical background and became Dad's advocate. Her assistance was beyond measure. The hospital would not allow him to go home alone so we found a rehab center near us that had a spare room.
He would've been out of the hospital sooner had it not been for an infection he incurred there due to an improperly placed IV. My SO went right up the chain of command and had them all hopping at that hospital.
We visited him almost daily. He hated it there too and when he got strong enough to wheel himself out the door, he would come with us to our car and want to get in. We kept telling him as soon as the therapists thought him strong enough, he could go home. It's harder to get that permission when you live alone and we didn't have the room for him to stay with us.
He was there for 2 months and didn't get to go home for 2 months. That gave us plenty of time time find a 24 hour stay-at-home nursing care facility. While he was in the hospital, his oncologist had given him 8-10 weeks to live. It's now been almost 3 months.
He resented the fuss over him. Said the 24/7 care was too expensive. His sons were spending their inheritance. We convinced him that he earned the care for all he's done in his life and not to worry about it. He had longterm disability which took care of most of it anyway.
It took him some time to get used to the routine. To get used to people coming into his house and taking over the chores. He was in pretty good spirits for quite awhile. My SO had barely gotten to know him before he had his fall, and she's been grateful to get to know him a lot better in the months afterwards.
He's no longer in good spirits. It's been a year since the fall. He sleeps almost all the time. We've had to deal with one crisis after another. Brain cancer can cause your body to do weird things - cause the body to show symptoms that would normally show if you're sick. We've had to trick him into taking his anti-seizure pills with pudding. He still fights some things. He's regressed mentally to that of a pre-schooler. Forget trying to talk to him while the TV's on.
Important dates have come and gone with mixed feelings. Grateful he's lasted long enough to see another Christmas, another birthday, another Father's Day, yet sadness knowing he won't be seeing another. His birthday was last May and we're not sure if he comprehended it or not. His favorite nephew lives 1500 miles away and wanted to be notified when the time comes. I suggested, instead, a trip to see Dad one last time. It was agreed and the trip was made. The goodbye before heading back to the airport was heart wrenching for everyone. Dad didn't want to let go of my cousin. My cousin didn't want to let him go either.
We have to give him medicine to help him sleep. It's to the point that if he falls asleep, he's afraid he'll never wake up. Through this whole time, the main concern has been quality of life. Caretakers have come and gone. The original outfit we signed with no longer has the resources for 24/7 care. They cannot hire enough. We've had to sign an additional outfit.
Last month was the 5th anniversary of Mom's passing. I avoided mentioning it to Dad. He thought the month was January when we asked him. The caretakers try and prevent him from watching the local news because he would cry.
Last Christmas, we asked him if he wanted us to put up the tree? He said sure! We drug it down and started putting it up. He started bawling. We asked what was wrong? He just kept shaking his head. We made the tree disappear. Later he changed his mind and wanted the tree, so it got put up. After the holidays, we wanted to take the tree down and he was adamant about it staying up. It's now nearing the end of August and the tree's still up, right where he wants it - at the foot of his hospital bed, next to the TV in the living room. Hope is fading day by day that he and the tree will see another Christmas, yet with each new day he proves his doctors wrong.
He was wanting to get to his easy chair. There was no way I could lift him myself and I told him to stay where he was and not move. I called for the ambulance. Deja vu all over again. I explained the situation and they were on their way.
The fire truck got there first. 3 big burly guys starting helping him. I explained what I thought happened. It was his brain cancer. Yes, the same cancer we found out about the same time we were told my wife's melanoma was back. His surgeon had given him two years at the most and it had been 25 months.
The ambulance showed up. I insisted on him going to the hospital. He hates hospitals. I told him he had no choice. I hated to do it, but sometimes you just to take over and make the decisions. I grabbed his meds and his wallet, plus some extra clothes. By that time, my brother had shown up and was helping with the questions that seem to be coming from all sides.
It was another long night at the hospital. Things are not good when you know the ER staff by their names. We got him admitted and they began running tests. While they were doing that, I got on the phone to my significant other who was down on the coast. (Did I tell you I had been seeing someone new for a couple of months up until then?) Long story short, Dad had fallen a couple weeks before on the hilly drive up to the mailbox and didn't tell anyone. He's never been one to burden anyone, but this time, the fall caused a laceration in his right hand which led to an infection that traveled to his brain causing dizzy spells.
He was in the hospital for a month and hated every minute of it. My SO used her medical background and became Dad's advocate. Her assistance was beyond measure. The hospital would not allow him to go home alone so we found a rehab center near us that had a spare room.
He would've been out of the hospital sooner had it not been for an infection he incurred there due to an improperly placed IV. My SO went right up the chain of command and had them all hopping at that hospital.
We visited him almost daily. He hated it there too and when he got strong enough to wheel himself out the door, he would come with us to our car and want to get in. We kept telling him as soon as the therapists thought him strong enough, he could go home. It's harder to get that permission when you live alone and we didn't have the room for him to stay with us.
He was there for 2 months and didn't get to go home for 2 months. That gave us plenty of time time find a 24 hour stay-at-home nursing care facility. While he was in the hospital, his oncologist had given him 8-10 weeks to live. It's now been almost 3 months.
He resented the fuss over him. Said the 24/7 care was too expensive. His sons were spending their inheritance. We convinced him that he earned the care for all he's done in his life and not to worry about it. He had longterm disability which took care of most of it anyway.
It took him some time to get used to the routine. To get used to people coming into his house and taking over the chores. He was in pretty good spirits for quite awhile. My SO had barely gotten to know him before he had his fall, and she's been grateful to get to know him a lot better in the months afterwards.
He's no longer in good spirits. It's been a year since the fall. He sleeps almost all the time. We've had to deal with one crisis after another. Brain cancer can cause your body to do weird things - cause the body to show symptoms that would normally show if you're sick. We've had to trick him into taking his anti-seizure pills with pudding. He still fights some things. He's regressed mentally to that of a pre-schooler. Forget trying to talk to him while the TV's on.
Important dates have come and gone with mixed feelings. Grateful he's lasted long enough to see another Christmas, another birthday, another Father's Day, yet sadness knowing he won't be seeing another. His birthday was last May and we're not sure if he comprehended it or not. His favorite nephew lives 1500 miles away and wanted to be notified when the time comes. I suggested, instead, a trip to see Dad one last time. It was agreed and the trip was made. The goodbye before heading back to the airport was heart wrenching for everyone. Dad didn't want to let go of my cousin. My cousin didn't want to let him go either.
We have to give him medicine to help him sleep. It's to the point that if he falls asleep, he's afraid he'll never wake up. Through this whole time, the main concern has been quality of life. Caretakers have come and gone. The original outfit we signed with no longer has the resources for 24/7 care. They cannot hire enough. We've had to sign an additional outfit.
Last month was the 5th anniversary of Mom's passing. I avoided mentioning it to Dad. He thought the month was January when we asked him. The caretakers try and prevent him from watching the local news because he would cry.
Last Christmas, we asked him if he wanted us to put up the tree? He said sure! We drug it down and started putting it up. He started bawling. We asked what was wrong? He just kept shaking his head. We made the tree disappear. Later he changed his mind and wanted the tree, so it got put up. After the holidays, we wanted to take the tree down and he was adamant about it staying up. It's now nearing the end of August and the tree's still up, right where he wants it - at the foot of his hospital bed, next to the TV in the living room. Hope is fading day by day that he and the tree will see another Christmas, yet with each new day he proves his doctors wrong.
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