Developments

Sunday, December 27, 2009

I have not offered an update in several weeks now. As my last post stated, we had settled into a routine that redefined normal. It seemed pointless and maybe even a bit self-serving to continue posting updates on a condition that wasn’t changing. Surely we have had good days and bad since then - days without waking up, nights without sleep, days of coming out into his recliner, visiting with company and spouting gibberish as if we all could understand what "exploding pasta" and other such nonsense meant. And, to be frank, I am not of the "twitter" generation. I find sharing the detail of every little experience diminishes those experiences rather than enhancing them. Please excuse the fact that not posting updates was mostly for selfish reasons. As of today that has changed.

Our holidays have passed largely as they would have any other year. Granted, they aren’t over and it now seems that the remainder of the holiday season will not be the same - though it is hard to know what will happen from one minute to the next. But I have an odd feeling of pride that so far we have been able to gather in much the same way as usual and find meaningful ways of including my dad in the experience. On Christmas day he was able to spend quite a bit of time out of his bed, even opening a couple of gifts and having a bit of Christmas dinner in his recliner near the rest of us at the table. 11 weeks ago, as we were preparing to check out of Borgess hospital, my sister said "Who knows? Maybe Roy will pull one more rabbit out of his hat." That seemed utterly impossible - maybe even undesirable since a meaningful recovery was not even being attempted. We brought him home that night and began plans for a funeral.  We prepared our hearts for a holiday season without him. But this Christmas we got a rabbit instead.

It was understandable that the day after Christmas he was "wiped out." But he was a bit out of sorts as this new normal has defined them. My mom kept saying, "He hasn’t been like this before." But he has been like this before - when he was in and coming home from the hospital; when he was actively dying. By nightfall he started to show signs of a fever. A cold compress kept him comfortable for the most part and we got some Tylenol in him. That was a bit difficult because even though he was awake he was not completely responsive. When instructed to open his mouth he would clench his teeth instead out of confusion. That made taking his temperature impossible. My mom wanted to call a hospice nurse but it was midnight and we really seemed to be doing OK on our own. No sense, I thought, in waking someone. By 1:00 AM we finally decided to get an axial temperature. Even if it wasn’t accurate we could establish a baseline that would let us know if he were getting better or worse - 103.2! We called the nurse.

A couple of hours, a nurse visit and several cold compresses later we had his temperature down to a mere 100.8. It is hard to know even now what we are dealing with. I suspect pneumonia even though his lungs seemed clear to the nurse. He has survived his last two or three bouts of pneumonia by seeking treatment before even X-rays showed a problem. The questions right now outnumber the answers ten to one. That isn’t unusual for us these days but I can’t honestly say we are used to it. What I do know is that for the last few years when he gets this sick it is a dire situation. Part of my brain is saying, "Here we go." The other part is asking, "Going where?"