Update, Update

Hey, ya'll!

First, many apologies, again, that I've been away for a month. I've slowly but surely getting around to visit everyone. Sometimes life just gets so crazy that you have to bug out for awhile, ya know what I mean?

I just wanted to post on what has been keeping me busy and away from my dear virtual friends. On the minor side of things, works been crazy as hell (Chris is right - I probably do bring this on myself in that I never say "no" when I'm asked to take on a project; we've been getting ready for our week-long visit with my niece, nephew and brother-in-law; we have a new resident, in the form of one of Chris' coworkers who needed a place to stay when the state screwed around with her transfer date, leaving her momentarily homeless; and we've had EXTENSIVE work done in our yard (I'm talking HOLY COW, BATMAN) and getting that project off the ground was a pain.

On the semi-major side of things, we've had some schtuff going on that's been keeping us occupied. Nothing bad...all is well. But kinda big. More on that to come...that's not really the main point of this post. Stop worrying; nothing is wrong.

And on the major side of things, my Dad has taken a major downturn. As much as I hate to be typing these words, it looks like the end is most likely fairly close. You've seen me blog on Dad before...here, here and here. Well...as optimistic as I was in some of those posts that Dad would eventually be able to join us in Texas (a goal that even made it to my 101 in 1001 (which, by the way, has been updated), it now looks like it's time for practicality to win out over hope.

Let me share what's been going on.

First, a word on my mother. Ah, my mother. The woman who calls only when she wants me to pay her bills. And purposefully calls when she knows I won't be home so she can make me feel guilty by voicemail that I wasn't around to talk to my Dad. (Hello, call my CELL???) Mom isn't good at priorities. She calls me for stupid shit, not for big-time life-changing maybe-I-should-know-this shit. So at 7:00 in the morning last Wednesday, she called me to say that Dad had been given a terminal diagnosis the day before and was considered to be at end-of-life. Just like that. Out of the blue. No preamble. No warning. No prior updates other than to say "well, nothing really has changed" when I would ask.

That's a VERY good way to get Tiffany to freak out. I hung up on her and called the nursing home to get the real story. Turns out that Mom wasn't exaggerating for once. Dad had sustained a fever of 104 for more than a week, completely unexplained and uncontrollable. At that point, he was 100% unresponsive and not considered to make it much longer. I hung up, called my boss, explained the situation, and got Chris and I two confirmed seats to PHL about 4 hours later. (Perk of working for the airline...although we have to fly stand-by for leisure travel, we're allowed emergency travel, free of charge, in confirmed seats. Yay for AA!) I then called my mother to tell her to expect us in time for dinner.

What did Mom say? She asked us not to come. Said it wasn't a good time. She wasn't up for visitors. (Um, we're not coming to see YOU!) She said that the doctor had told her it was impossible to predict when Dad would pass, so why bother coming up "early". Wow. The woman amazes even me.

Needless to say, we ignored her. Even after she conned the doctor into telling me to wait a "day or so". Even after she told us that she didn't want visitors, so we'd have to stay at a hotel. This is about DAD.

We got up there too late on Wednesday to see him, but were there first thing the next morning. In the meantime, they'd sent him back through every medical test known to mankind; nothing conclusive. The fever came down to 99...but then went back to 101, where it has remained. His eyes were open, but he wasn't responsive. He couldn't talk, walk, hold a drink, or feed himself.

But he could hold hands.

And so that's what we did a lot of...holding hands. We stayed in PA for 5 days...attempting to fly home on Sunday but getting stuck in PHL due to weight and balance issues. (Ever wonder why planes fly with empty seats, even when there are people waiting to get on? It's probably because of either weather that necessitates a lighter load, or a heavy cargo load...you just lost out to the U.S. Mail.) Finally got home on Monday, and are now simply on call for what may come next. We plan to go up to PA for a weekend in late April, pending necessitation of an earlier trip.

Dad could live another few days, or weeks, or even months. But it just isn't good. He has to be fed...and can only eat pureed foods. A straw has to be guided into his mouth for him to drink...and he can only have thickened liquids. He can gaze at you for hours...but not see a thing. By the time we left, he'd actually said about 20 words. About half were in response to direct yes/no questions...and the rest were gibberish. All were spoken in a tone so low that they were almost impossible to hear. I'm still not convinced that he knowingly responded to the yes/no questions...it wouldn't surprise me if some part of his brain had just fired off a synapse that responded instinctually instead of knowingly.

I've got to believe that his current state is entirely, 100% due to that fever. A fever that high, for that long? It's gotta fry your brain. Beforehand, even on his foggiest days, he'd maintain a conversation and amble around with his fixed hip. Now? He's like a shell.

My big victory came on the Saturday we were there. I wheeled him into the rec room of the nursing home to play Bingo. What that meant was that I played Bingo, kept him from trying to put chips in his mouth, and tried to figure out a way to get Dad to focus on the card. Well...his card won. I coached him for what seemed like an eternity, and finally he said...BINGO. His prize was a mashed banana, and while feeding it to him, along with a lot more coaching, I got him to say YUM.

It's the small things in life.

Due to the fever, he endured a horrific trip to the hospital the week before we were there and was left neglected on a gurney for 8 or so hours...which lead to the development of sores. Ugh. They left him in so much pain...he was constantly trying to shift his weight in his chair but wasn't strong enough/coordinated enough to do so. And then...the dryness. The nurses tried their best to keep him hydrated, but he got so dried out that Dad's entire head was flaking - scalp AND face.

We found some Bag Balm (which my husband swears by) at the CVS and basically scrubbed it into his face and scalp. The good news is that we got all the flakes rubbed off...Chris got him shaved up and even gave him a little hair cut...and I got his nails trimmed down. Dad may not be with it, but at least he looks spiffy. What can you do? It's basically the only damn thing we could do for him.

It was hard to leave. Probably the first time I've felt bad about leaving PA since escaping moving from there six years ago. He kept reaching for my hand. He wasn't really aware, I don't think...but we'd spent so much time holding hands while we were there that he'd gotten used to it.

So now you're updated on Dad. Chris tells me that he swears that Dad was not only aware that I was there but of what was going on (another story for another time) and that at least makes me feel good. It was a hell of a trip. We went fully prepared for a funeral...I even wrote an obit on the way up...but it looks like Dad will hang on for a little bit longer, at least.

He's not going to recover...it's far beyond that...but please pray that he's at least comfortable and passes easily.

More updates to come...later on! Also, I'm going to re-start posting my goals, soon, and also post some new writing for you all to read - both short stories and excerpts from my various WIPs!

Tiffany