Christmas Eve
Saturday, December 24th, 2022 11:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozefestaudioWe're back up above zero today. It's about 06F outside, which is way better than the, negative six, of yesterday this time. But the big change is the sun is finally out! It's easily been a week since we saw blue skies.
11:35AM
Got downstairs by 9:20. Dad was awake, and I helped him drink a few sips of water, before taking Yvette for a quick walk. Still too windy to stay outside for long, but the snow is only a couple inches deep.
Dad's prescriptions had come late last night by courier, so this morning I sorted them out into his weekly organizer.
Dad wanted to come out in the kitchen for a bit so we did the whole routine of getting him out of the bed and into the wheelchair, then out to the kitchen table.
He had a few sips of cold coffee, before spilling it on his shirt when I looked away for two seconds. I patted him down with paper towels and then he wanted a few sips of flat Guinness that he'd had me put into the fridge last night.
He also smoked a Newport, but said he wasn't hungry, and maybe he'd eat later.
Then, after only being at the table for about 20 minutes, he said he was tired and wanted to go back to bed.
I changed his shirt before we did the whole routine again of getting him back into bed, wondering to myself if it's worth it to do this if he's only out of bed for 20 minutes.
He's gotten steadily weaker over the past three days, because he's barely eating. And this means I'm having to struggle a lot more with the gait strap to help him around.
And now I'm worried I'm gonna pull a muscle or tweak my back, which would not be good news for either of us.
--<>--
A hospice lady is coming in an hour to follow up on the admission. We'll see how that goes, but... I feel like by the time they actually get started here, he'll be dead!
I think the bed is supposed to come tomorrow? So he's gonna have to stay in the wheel chair while I lug the old mattress and box springs out to the parking and vacuum the shit out of his floor.
No doubt there will be tons of other garbage to throw out.
He's kind of a hoarder.
Every open surface, in every room down there, has huge stacks of random papers piled on top... junk mail, greeting cards, old invoices, pamphlets, newspapers, etc.
For years, I've been unable to get rid of most of it, because he always insists the piles are important, or sentimental, or he's getting around to them soon.
But this past week, I'm finally throwing the shit out, one pile at a time, because he's too out of it to realize what I'm doing.
------------{=0=}------------
3:05PM
The Hospice lady showed up around 12:45PM to do the admission follow up. She walked me through the emergency kit of drugs that came with his perscriptions last night by courier.
He's got morphine, and other stuff in there to deal any with pain, aggitation, or nausea when he's at the end.
She got more information from me, and was requesting different things into her laptop for me, like a volunteer to come sit with him while I'm at work, and say, two visits a week from a nurse rather than just one.
In general, this woman thought he was a lot closer to the end than the lady yesterday. And maybe he is!.. She asked him what month it was and he said April!
She asked him what holiday was tomorrow and he said, Easter!
--<>--
The bed MIGHT come tomorrow, or not. She couldn't be sure.
But she was sure, we're not getting a visit from the actual nurse in charge of Dad's care until Monday. That'll be the woman who actually schedules the different care workers and sends them in... aids, volunteers, the chaplain, etc.
So... day after tomorrow for her, and then maybe Tuesday when the ball really gets rolling.
And at the speed dad's declining... Tuesday's a LONG way off!
--<>--
After she left, I hung out downstairs trying to get a little laptop I had working in his room to stream Accuweather off the web, but the fucking thing needed to download all kinds of updates first.
I went in the back room to reset the wifi and it was freezing back there, because the pilot for the gas heater had been blown out by the wind... probably yesterday! That was probably why the dog's water dish back there kept freezing!
So I relit the pilot and got that heater going, then left to go to Walgreens for some coffee, smokes, and moist cat food. I grabbed some food from Macdonald's nearby, then parked downtown to eat it.
I came back to find a package next to the stoop, in the snow, which turned out to be two boxes of cookies, from whole foods? They were in a paper bag that said Amazon Prime, but there was no delivery address, or return address.
Chat GPT says if I can't identify the sender, I should consider throwing them out.
Now I'm upstairs just kinda chilling out. It's too early to drink a beer, but it's kinda too late for coffee.
------------{=0=}------------
11:30PM
The cookies did turn out to have been sent by Colleen.
I had no luck streaming Accuweather in his room. The wifi is just shit in there for some reason.
But I was down there between 6PM and 8PM, either messing with that laptop, or taking Yvette for another quick walk, or... hanging with Dad in his room to just keep him entertained.
He did want to get out of bed at 7PM, and we did try... but he was just too weak to get from the bed back into the wheel chair.
It was taking too much of my own muscle to keep him up, and it was clear he was about to fall on the floor, so we had to abort and drop his ass back on the bed... and then get him all situated in bed again.
But after we did that I smoked and drank with him in the bedroom. I asked if he wanted to eat anything, and he said the same thing he'd been saying all day... "I"m not hungry right now, but maybe I'll eat something later."
He did drink water and take his pills... and drink a goodly part of his can of Guinness tonight, but... only took one puff off his cigarette.
I sat with him for some time in there, but finally went back upstairs.
Sheila called, and we talked for a while.
Then Tim called and we talked for a while.
--<>--
It feels tonight like Dad may not have long. I mean, how much longer can he have if he doesn't eat? But am I supposed to force feed him?
I'm doing my best over here, but the cavalry isn't coming until Tuesday!
And I don't want to be raising the alarm on Chrismas Eve, or Christmas day that he's dying... when I don't even have a fucking health care worker around to confirm it, or, if possible, forestall it!
The timing of all this could not be worse... right at Christmas... right when a polar vortex has been ravaging the entire continental US!
--<>--
My hands are kinda tied here!
I did not break dad's hip, or fail him for two weeks in rehab!
I did not bring a polar vortex into existence!
I kept everybody informed, continued to go to work, took care of the dog, visited him every day, and eventually rescued him from Strive by myself.
And I have been doing my best here for three days.
So... if everybody's too focused on their lives to see that; 1) Dad's extremely injured like never before, and 2) I've been shouldering a larger burden over here than ever before by myself...
Then that's on THEM!
If the Hospice care can't fucking get their act together fast enough... that's on THEM!
And if Dad dies before my family and the hospice team are ready... that's oh HIM!
I'm just a guy trying to live my life and pay my bills!
I'm not claiming to be a victim or anything, I've been stepping up to the plate, but... none of this is the result of MY poor decisions, MY inactions, or MY failure to communicate!
So I'm just gonna keep on doing my best to care for Dad and survive over here!
------------{=0=}------------
I did get back to Seven Clubs, here and there, over this chaotic week.
It's not done yet, but there's been some progress.
And since it's been so long, I'll repost the first image before the current one, below.
He still kinda looks like an elaborate Emoji?... but I think with a little more work, I can accept this into the first draft cannon of the seven cards.
Meanwhile, Two of Spades Week, begins tomorrow!
°¦}
https://soundcloud.com/snoozefestaudio
Got downstairs by 9:20. Dad was awake, and I helped him drink a few sips of water, before taking Yvette for a quick walk. Still too windy to stay outside for long, but the snow is only a couple inches deep.
Dad's prescriptions had come late last night by courier, so this morning I sorted them out into his weekly organizer.
Dad wanted to come out in the kitchen for a bit so we did the whole routine of getting him out of the bed and into the wheelchair, then out to the kitchen table.
He had a few sips of cold coffee, before spilling it on his shirt when I looked away for two seconds. I patted him down with paper towels and then he wanted a few sips of flat Guinness that he'd had me put into the fridge last night.
He also smoked a Newport, but said he wasn't hungry, and maybe he'd eat later.
Then, after only being at the table for about 20 minutes, he said he was tired and wanted to go back to bed.
I changed his shirt before we did the whole routine again of getting him back into bed, wondering to myself if it's worth it to do this if he's only out of bed for 20 minutes.
He's gotten steadily weaker over the past three days, because he's barely eating. And this means I'm having to struggle a lot more with the gait strap to help him around.
And now I'm worried I'm gonna pull a muscle or tweak my back, which would not be good news for either of us.
A hospice lady is coming in an hour to follow up on the admission. We'll see how that goes, but... I feel like by the time they actually get started here, he'll be dead!
I think the bed is supposed to come tomorrow? So he's gonna have to stay in the wheel chair while I lug the old mattress and box springs out to the parking and vacuum the shit out of his floor.
No doubt there will be tons of other garbage to throw out.
He's kind of a hoarder.
Every open surface, in every room down there, has huge stacks of random papers piled on top... junk mail, greeting cards, old invoices, pamphlets, newspapers, etc.
For years, I've been unable to get rid of most of it, because he always insists the piles are important, or sentimental, or he's getting around to them soon.
But this past week, I'm finally throwing the shit out, one pile at a time, because he's too out of it to realize what I'm doing.
The Hospice lady showed up around 12:45PM to do the admission follow up. She walked me through the emergency kit of drugs that came with his perscriptions last night by courier.
He's got morphine, and other stuff in there to deal any with pain, aggitation, or nausea when he's at the end.
She got more information from me, and was requesting different things into her laptop for me, like a volunteer to come sit with him while I'm at work, and say, two visits a week from a nurse rather than just one.
In general, this woman thought he was a lot closer to the end than the lady yesterday. And maybe he is!.. She asked him what month it was and he said April!
She asked him what holiday was tomorrow and he said, Easter!
The bed MIGHT come tomorrow, or not. She couldn't be sure.
But she was sure, we're not getting a visit from the actual nurse in charge of Dad's care until Monday. That'll be the woman who actually schedules the different care workers and sends them in... aids, volunteers, the chaplain, etc.
So... day after tomorrow for her, and then maybe Tuesday when the ball really gets rolling.
And at the speed dad's declining... Tuesday's a LONG way off!
After she left, I hung out downstairs trying to get a little laptop I had working in his room to stream Accuweather off the web, but the fucking thing needed to download all kinds of updates first.
I went in the back room to reset the wifi and it was freezing back there, because the pilot for the gas heater had been blown out by the wind... probably yesterday! That was probably why the dog's water dish back there kept freezing!
So I relit the pilot and got that heater going, then left to go to Walgreens for some coffee, smokes, and moist cat food. I grabbed some food from Macdonald's nearby, then parked downtown to eat it.
I came back to find a package next to the stoop, in the snow, which turned out to be two boxes of cookies, from whole foods? They were in a paper bag that said Amazon Prime, but there was no delivery address, or return address.
Chat GPT says if I can't identify the sender, I should consider throwing them out.
Now I'm upstairs just kinda chilling out. It's too early to drink a beer, but it's kinda too late for coffee.
The cookies did turn out to have been sent by Colleen.
I had no luck streaming Accuweather in his room. The wifi is just shit in there for some reason.
But I was down there between 6PM and 8PM, either messing with that laptop, or taking Yvette for another quick walk, or... hanging with Dad in his room to just keep him entertained.
He did want to get out of bed at 7PM, and we did try... but he was just too weak to get from the bed back into the wheel chair.
It was taking too much of my own muscle to keep him up, and it was clear he was about to fall on the floor, so we had to abort and drop his ass back on the bed... and then get him all situated in bed again.
But after we did that I smoked and drank with him in the bedroom. I asked if he wanted to eat anything, and he said the same thing he'd been saying all day... "I"m not hungry right now, but maybe I'll eat something later."
He did drink water and take his pills... and drink a goodly part of his can of Guinness tonight, but... only took one puff off his cigarette.
I sat with him for some time in there, but finally went back upstairs.
Sheila called, and we talked for a while.
Then Tim called and we talked for a while.
It feels tonight like Dad may not have long. I mean, how much longer can he have if he doesn't eat? But am I supposed to force feed him?
I'm doing my best over here, but the cavalry isn't coming until Tuesday!
And I don't want to be raising the alarm on Chrismas Eve, or Christmas day that he's dying... when I don't even have a fucking health care worker around to confirm it, or, if possible, forestall it!
The timing of all this could not be worse... right at Christmas... right when a polar vortex has been ravaging the entire continental US!
My hands are kinda tied here!
I did not break dad's hip, or fail him for two weeks in rehab!
I did not bring a polar vortex into existence!
I kept everybody informed, continued to go to work, took care of the dog, visited him every day, and eventually rescued him from Strive by myself.
And I have been doing my best here for three days.
So... if everybody's too focused on their lives to see that; 1) Dad's extremely injured like never before, and 2) I've been shouldering a larger burden over here than ever before by myself...
Then that's on THEM!
If the Hospice care can't fucking get their act together fast enough... that's on THEM!
And if Dad dies before my family and the hospice team are ready... that's oh HIM!
I'm just a guy trying to live my life and pay my bills!
I'm not claiming to be a victim or anything, I've been stepping up to the plate, but... none of this is the result of MY poor decisions, MY inactions, or MY failure to communicate!
So I'm just gonna keep on doing my best to care for Dad and survive over here!
I did get back to Seven Clubs, here and there, over this chaotic week.
It's not done yet, but there's been some progress.
And since it's been so long, I'll repost the first image before the current one, below.
He still kinda looks like an elaborate Emoji?... but I think with a little more work, I can accept this into the first draft cannon of the seven cards.
Meanwhile, Two of Spades Week, begins tomorrow!
°¦}
