May 17, 2010
Dad has been very quiet today and it is obvious that he is not feeling well. He ate a good breakfast but he went to sit in his chair immediately after. He went back and forth between the chair and lying down on his bed until lunchtime. He ate a good lunch and promptly went to lie down.
I repeatedly told him all day that we had a doctor appointment at 3:15 with his primary physician. So when it was time to leave we slowly made our way into the car and off. The speed limit in the Village is 15 mph most of the way. The instant I inched it up to 17, Dad started lecturing me, “The neighbors want things a certain way here. You can’t go speeding through the Village and not expect somebody to bitch about it.”
I kept it at a steady 17 mph until the limit went up to 23 mph. I wasn’t trying to antagonize him, but I didn’t have my foot on the gas pedal and I didn’t feel like riding the brake. He fussed all the way to the front gate (exactly 1 mile from the house). As we were turning out onto the Hwy, he asked me how much it was going to cost to bury Mom. I explained that he had already paid for everything.
He suggested I call our pastor and ask him when he thought Mom should be buried. As soon as I agreed he announced, “I guess it’s kind of crazy to keep her sitting on the dresser (it’s actually on top of a large free standing jewelry chest). I just kind of like having her there. Tell Pastor Pete I think we should get her in the ground.”
I told him we would do it all however he wanted things done. I repeated everything I had discussed with the pastor about it the last time I spoke to him.
“Well, maybe, as soon as we get everything paid off, you can put us both in the ground. I want to be buried next to your mother as soon as it’s paid off.”
“Dad,” I said calmly. “Mom’s is already paid off. You don’t owe any more money for anything including burial. Yours is being paid for by the accountant every month. And you could easily be alive when it gets paid off. I can’t promise to bury you as soon as you pay it off.”
“But once I pay it off, there won’t be a reason to hang around. So I’m just going to have to see how long it will take to pay everything off,” he made it sound eerily feasible. “Then I will know when it’s ok for me to die.”
The subject dropped there as we finally arrived. Dad insists on loading and unloading his walker from the car. He isn’t capable of it most of the time but he is a gentleman and it rankles him to have a “girl” do it for him. Today was no exception. He struggled to unload it, pushing me out of the way, until he got light headed. He refused to use the ramp and he refused my help picking it up over the curb. When I opened doors for him, he tried to insist I go through first.
He was acting out in a rather childlike manner when we sat down in the waiting room. I offered him a magazine. He declined. He began fidgeting and glanced around the room making a variety of noises for several minutes before he suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, SHIT!”
All six of the other people in the room turned to look at him, me included.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” I asked softly.
He pointed to his feet. “I guess I should have put my shoes on to come here.”
I smiled at his slippers and touched his arm. Several people around us smiled and looked away. “I’m sure it’s ok. At least you are comfortable, right?”
“I didn’t even notice it…” his eyes were clear for a moment and infinitely sad.
He turned away and resumed his fidgeting and noise making until we were called to the back. We went into the room where he gets weighed and he proceeded to begin to unzip his pants. As he reached to push them down, the nurse laughed gently and asked him what he was doing.
He shook his head as if to clear away the fog and zipped up his pants before stepping on the scale. The nurse glanced at me with a question in her eyes. I shrugged while shaking my head. My expression clearly said, “It’s just one of those days.”
In the examining room, his blood pressure was taken. I saw the nurse’s concern and asked what it was. 108/47 and his pulse was 49… still too low. The doctor came in and did the biopsy on his cheek. When he finished, he cauterized it. When he was finished he looked over Dad’s hands and arms and decided to do a second biopsy on his wrist, he cauterized that one as well. With Dad’s bleeding history, he didn’t want to take any chances.
On the way home, Dad asked what we were supposed to do with Mom. I asked him what he wanted to do with her. “I really don’t know,” he replied. “I like having her in my room with me. But somehow, I think she is supposed to be buried. How am I supposed to know what to do?”
“Dad, you have to do whatever feels right to you. And you don’t have to decide today. It’s all paid for, so whenever you want to, we can bury her. And if you want her with you, that’s ok, too. I promise, if that’s what you want, I will bury you both at the same time.”
He looked at me as relief washed over his face. “Then I won’t decide today,” he declared as he sat back lost in thought for the rest of the ride.
After dinner, I changed the dressings on Dad’s arm, and on his biopsy sites. I was relieved to finally see signs of healing (after only 10 days this time). As I rose from the table to throw away the mountain of trash that accompanies dressing changes, Cameryn came running into the room.
“Nonni, G’dad said don’t put anything away. Jordyn cut his foot really bad and you got to bandage him up when he’s done washing it.”
I hurried to the bathroom to find Jordyn running water on his bloody foot. As soon as it was clean, we headed for the dining room table to bandage him up. I assessed the cut, knowing he needed stitches but positive I could steri-strip it and he would be fine. I was right so it didn’t take long to patch him up.
As soon as I finished with him, I noticed Ayla curled up in a chair in the living room. I asked her if she was sleepy. She shook her head no and made a funny sound. I looked up at Melissa who asked if she was ok. The words were barely out of her mouth before Ayla threw up all over the chair. Thankfully, it turned out to just be an upset stomach and she has been fine since. Wow, what a night…
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