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saturday sunday
Oct. 21st, 2012 11:41 pmDrove my brother to the airport this morning. Had some slightly testy moments after I returned, in which my mother and I were both (understandably, I feel) on edge and approaching the end of our respective tethers and came ever so close to snapping at each other - sort of like, with my brother gone, the triangle-is-the-most-stable-shape was just a line trying to balance vertically and it took some doing to keep it from toppling over.
Anyway. Visits today included my mother's best friend and her husband (who happens to be a doctor, and helped with some making-Dad-more-comfortable suggestions), after which I learned that I have to be reminded that people need to be allowed to do things to help us, like buy extra sheets for the hospital bed, and letting them do such things doesn't imply that I/we couldn't have done them my/ourself; this is especially true since we can't let everyone who wants to bring us food keep bringing us food. Neighbor across the street brought a dozen bagels and two large coffees this morning, which was very nice, but excessive, and then while my oldest childhood friend was visiting this afternoon, a complete stranger (from somewhere in the neighborhood) came by with a beautiful roast chicken dinner (plus potatoes and carrots, plus a big mixed salad, plus a full batch of cookies) - so we had to insist that my friend and her dad stay for dinner, because jesus, otherwise who was going to eat this food?! The neighbor across the street is organizing the whole block to provide dinners for four every sort of third day, and even that's going to be too much.
My friend and her dad are the friend whose mom died last year after a prolonged battle with ovarian cancer, so besides being good to visit with my oldest friend it was good to connect with another family who's been through almost precisely what we're going through - and I think it was good for her dad to be a strong example for my mom, if you know what I mean; it seems like helping someone else cope might go a little ways towards helping him heal. (He still speaks of his late wife in the present tense. Bless him. He's not a native speaker of English, but I don't think that's why.)
My aunt is here now, and she's a night owl, so she's got the monitor and is on Dad duty while Mom and I go to sleep. She called me downstairs about an hour ago, though, because he needed help and she wanted to be sure she was doing it right; so I got him to sleep finally, and then she and I talked for a long time about him, about my Gentleman Caller, and about my mother and their mother, my late grandmother, and how she was simultaneously a piece of work and a really good mom. It was a good conversation to have.
The times that Dad complains that he can't get a good breath are coming more frequently. We can dose him with Ativan and raise up his hospital bed and prop him up with pillows, but just in the past five days I can hear that his breathing has got more labored. The look of helpless fright on his face when he's trying to shift around so he can breathe more clearly is absolutely heartbreaking and will never, ever leave me.
Anyway. Visits today included my mother's best friend and her husband (who happens to be a doctor, and helped with some making-Dad-more-comfortable suggestions), after which I learned that I have to be reminded that people need to be allowed to do things to help us, like buy extra sheets for the hospital bed, and letting them do such things doesn't imply that I/we couldn't have done them my/ourself; this is especially true since we can't let everyone who wants to bring us food keep bringing us food. Neighbor across the street brought a dozen bagels and two large coffees this morning, which was very nice, but excessive, and then while my oldest childhood friend was visiting this afternoon, a complete stranger (from somewhere in the neighborhood) came by with a beautiful roast chicken dinner (plus potatoes and carrots, plus a big mixed salad, plus a full batch of cookies) - so we had to insist that my friend and her dad stay for dinner, because jesus, otherwise who was going to eat this food?! The neighbor across the street is organizing the whole block to provide dinners for four every sort of third day, and even that's going to be too much.
My friend and her dad are the friend whose mom died last year after a prolonged battle with ovarian cancer, so besides being good to visit with my oldest friend it was good to connect with another family who's been through almost precisely what we're going through - and I think it was good for her dad to be a strong example for my mom, if you know what I mean; it seems like helping someone else cope might go a little ways towards helping him heal. (He still speaks of his late wife in the present tense. Bless him. He's not a native speaker of English, but I don't think that's why.)
My aunt is here now, and she's a night owl, so she's got the monitor and is on Dad duty while Mom and I go to sleep. She called me downstairs about an hour ago, though, because he needed help and she wanted to be sure she was doing it right; so I got him to sleep finally, and then she and I talked for a long time about him, about my Gentleman Caller, and about my mother and their mother, my late grandmother, and how she was simultaneously a piece of work and a really good mom. It was a good conversation to have.
The times that Dad complains that he can't get a good breath are coming more frequently. We can dose him with Ativan and raise up his hospital bed and prop him up with pillows, but just in the past five days I can hear that his breathing has got more labored. The look of helpless fright on his face when he's trying to shift around so he can breathe more clearly is absolutely heartbreaking and will never, ever leave me.
