I'm there, I finally made it.
Made it where?
He smiles at me and flutters one hand as if directing someone. It is 3AM, what a magical time.
Later, he stares intently at the the bedroom wall.
Hey. The chair moved. Who moved it. It moved.
I look and the chair is there where I left it earlier. I just nod because no answer is needed, he is just talking about random things.
Charlie slips into the room quietly and asks to get up on the bed. He lays next to Rich's feet quietly for hours.
Don't lose the keys.
Ok.
Later.
Wait until things hard up. He nods. I nod back.
We attempt some coffee and some cereal. Then he insists on getting up and I tell him he can't and explain why. It crashes his 02 and rockets his heart rate.
He thinks a while then says.
When CAN I get out of bed?
I'm not sure how to answer this as we've been through it for the past 3 days. He starts to try and get up and I have to tell him.
Not now.
Then when? He gives me a hard stare. When can I go fishing again. What day is it? I want to go fishing tomorrow. When can I go fishing again?
I'm not one to lie so I say. You may not be able to.
I'm stuck in bed now?
Yes.
Then I may as well be dead.
I don't know what to say.
Am I dying?
Yes.
Good, then lets get it over with.
We'd had this conversation yesterday about Hospice about dying and how they were making sure this part was not painful. I'd asked him if he was okay with it. He was. I asked if he was afraid. He wasn't. We talked about it for a while because no one else was around to bother us.
Things changed rapidly from Monday to Tuesday morning. The signs were there. The vacant stares and looks, the non-responses. Yet guess what, we still could eat ice cream or a few bites of it for breakfast. Because.
Why not? Because ice cream is his weakness. He loves his sweets.
Steve spent the most time with him after the nurse and social worker left. The two old coots chatted and laughed and life seemed almost as if it were normal if Rich hadn't been stuck in a hospital bed. Since the guys loved hunting together for years, Steve brought Rich an unusual pistol with a 16 inch barrel for him to admire.
By Tuesday night he didn't know who I was at times but still let me give him his liquid meds. Lucidity comes and goes. Sometimes he knows who I am and other times not. At least he still lets me attend him.
Alli who has seen him twice a week since he started Hospice came out 'off duty' last night to see Rich and to just give me some company and support. Some people go way above and beyond.
The progression continues with something like a wave of up and down. Good, a little less good, a little more good, a little less good, and eventually ending.
His daughter did show up late in the afternoon with a chiffon cake which made Rich bright eyed. She handed me a piece that she cut and put on a plate and I told her to take it and help her dad eat it. She gave me a side look when I handed the plate back to her.
Rich loved it and made a right mess of things while eating it. I handed his daughter some paper towels while I went back to washing dishes and folding clothes.
Her husband sat at the kitchen table most of the day at the kitchen table and stared at his phone. His daughter joined him while I tended to things. They had to leave early so they could go out to eat. [meow...never asked if I'd like something...😼]
I'm pretty sure I had some sort of expectations of them other than them parking themselves in my kitchen for the day.
So it goes. Family Dynamics can be strange at times.
The Progression continues. It could be a couple of days or a couple of hours. But I am here and that is what is important to me.
