I'll be surprised if my Dad makes it through the night.

I've been sitting vigil all day at his bedside, my friends all camped out in the living room.

Mike is on his way down now.

Thank you to everyone for all the emails and comments. I can't tell you how much it means...
6:47:47 PM     comment []

Last night after posting those pictures, everything went downhill. Liz had just gotten here and I tried to explain to my Dad that I was going to go out to the kitchen to make dinner but he was so confused and our dialogue got so tangled and frantic that I finally broke down and called the hospice company. They had told me to call anytime, even if I just wanted to talk, and I just felt at such a loss for what to do and felt overwhelmed by the dramatic changes that had occurred in just a few days. They were very nice and sent a nurse out who was here for an hour or so. She advised me to up all of his pain medications and to give him more xanax to ease his anxiety.

Later, after he had finally calmed down, Liz and I decided to watch Sex and the City. He seemed kind of in and out of it so I didn't think he would even notice if we were watching but about ten minutes into it he began to freak out. He wasn't hallucinating but it was like he was having a schizo episode. He started shouting about HBO and how we're getting fucked because all around the country everyone else is watching the same channel but getting a different show but that we're paying for it. I finally realized that I can't reason with him anymore so Liz and I turned off the television and just kind of played along with what he was saying. He kept insisting that I call someone and solve the problem immediately. I think he could tell that we weren't convinced and he shouted for me to turn the tv on to channel six. I consented because there was nothing else to do. As irony would have it, channel six, a public access station, was featuring some kind of religious program and it just riled him even more. Finally after a surreal ten minutes of watching a minister (who seemed to be trying his best to physically impersonate Jesus) my Dad just seemed to get over the whole thing.

My heart goes out, in all it's broken pieces, to anyone who ever has to lose a parent to Alzheimer's. I can't even imagine what that must be like. I guess any kind of severe mental illness. It must just be soul wrenching to see someone you love go through that.

This morning when I woke up he was still sleeping and after I'd made coffee and woken up a bit I came in here (where I'm sitting right now) to wake him up but, for the most part, he was unresponsive. He seemed to wake up a bit but did not speak or look at me. I called hospice again and, crying, told them that my father had become unresponsive. They told me that was to be expected and I told them that I knew that but that I wanted them to send the nurse anyway since she hadn't seen him since last Thursday when everything was different. Then I sat next to him for an hour while I waited. I held his hand and I cried for a long time. I remembered vividly, sitting next to Julie in her hospital bed, during the last two days of her life when she was unconscious and unresponsive. I remembered the days spent next to my mother while she lay in her hospital bed. I felt very alone.

The nurses came and went. He perked up a bit and then went to sleep, which is how he still is now. My friends, Liz and Holly, are here now. When they first got here the three of sat together around his bed while he slept. We talked about how it seems so strange that there isn't someone here supervising this situation, that it's just us. We've all known each other since highschool and longer and even that, isn't so long ago. I mean, yeah, we're all capable of handling the situation. I'm capable of doing it alone even. But in a lot of ways, the three of us are just kids and this is all so strange.

Mike is upset because before he could offer to come down here I told him that my friends were on their way. I don't mean to shut him out of this. I do need him to be here. I do still love him. He needs to know this. But when this is over I still want to remain broken up. I still want to be on my own. I don't know how we'll ever sort through what we are to each other now. He's coming down tonight, after my friends have gone.

And I guess the verdict is that my father could go anytime between now and a week. He could never wake up again, could just go on sleeping until he dies.
1:39:59 PM     comment []