Sorry to be late again this week--with Father's Day and my son-in-law's birthday to celebrate yesterday, I wasn't able to write anything.
My report today comes from the weekend nurse who I spoke to briefly last night, from my sister Martha, and from my short conversation with Dad.
The weekend nurse said Dad has been pushing himself around in his wheelchair a lot yesterday. She was pleased because she thought that would tire him out and help him sleep better. Dad was asleep, and the nurse seemed reluctant to wake him, so I tried to accept that I wouldn't get to talk to Dad on Father's Day.
However, when I spoke to Martha, she said Dad's always asleep and she hadn't gotten to visit him any of the times she'd tried during the week, so she'd go to the nursing home and see if they could wake him easily. We agreed that if she could wake him, she'd phone me, so I could talk to Dad.
Martha called me from the nursing home, saying Dad had woken right up.
I was able to tell Dad Happy Father's Day. I told him again that my daughter, Christine, and her family would be coming to see him. He said something like, "Oh, it'll be nice to see them," a bit more than just one of his stock responses.
I hadn't really thought of what to tell him about the grandkids, so I just told him again that Evelyn's very cute and grins and coos. I told him that Jeffrey's intonation is very exaggerated, saying "WHY is EVelyn cryiiiiing?" I didn't get a response until I said something about it being very cute. Dad said, "Oh yes!"
I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me, and I told him I'd be visiting soon. He said he'd look forward to seeing me, and we said goodbye.
I'm sorry I won't be there when he meets Evelyn and sees Jeffrey again, but I hope he's able to be aware enough to enjoy them!
After Dad and I said goodbye, Martha and I spoke for a little longer. She said Dad was having pain around his catheter and that they'd arranged for him to get some pain medication and that she'd have them check the catheter to make sure there wasn't a problem.
Martha said Dad was cheerful and didn't appear to be confused at all about who I was--that's nice to hear!
My next time to blog about Dad is scheduled for July 3. I'll be in Utah then, so I'll try to make sure I let you know what's up either on the 3rd or the 4th.
That's all for this week. Thanks for reading!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Update on Dad 6-6-11
Hi, loyal readers!
I'm sorry I wasn't able to blog about Dad last night. My sisters, one of my sisters-in-law, a friend, and I are having a sisters' reunion, and I wasn't free to blog last night or even phone Dad, so my report on him is short today.
My two sisters who live in Utah, Lucy and Martha, both say they see Dad as slowly declining. He sleeps more and wants to talk less. His interest in things of this world is declining. Martha took Dad pictures of her new grandson and my new granddaughter and said Dad hardly looked at them and had no response. I've been told that it's hard to visit him because he's so unresponsive.
Dad's lack of response fits so clearly into the pattern described in the booklet on stages of dying that we received when Dad was first put on hospice. It describes a withdrawal from this life as the person prepares for death. My rational mind and my faith both see this stage as a necessary part of Dad's journey into the next life and to his reunion with my mom, with his parents and siblings, and with so many of his friends--and I'm crying as I write this. It's hard to let him go even though I know we need to.
My cousin Laurie Craig (Skip to the family) visited Dad last night and tried to call me, so we could talk. He left a very cheerful message about Dad, saying that Dad looked good and that Dad said he was feeling well.
I phoned this morning to speak to someone at the care facility, knowing it was too early in Utah for Dad to be awake. The nurse had been away for several days, but she checked with the nurse's aide who'd been on duty yesterday. The aide said Dad got up for both meals and ate lunch by himself. The nurse then checked through his chart and said he's "doing great"--a relative term, I suppose!
The nurse then asked if I'd visited Dad at the nursing home where he used to be, and when I explained who I was, said she remembered me. When I told her I'd be visiting in July, she said she'd look forward to seeing me. Her willingness to find out information for me and to connect with me as a member of Dad's family reminds me that they do love and care about Dad there and about us too.
My sister Christie at church yesterday bore a lovely testimony about her gratitude for our family. She talked about how grateful she was to have been taught from an early age to question from a position of faith and that she didn't think she would still be in the Church if she hadn't had that training. Christie clearly also attributes all the siblings being active in Church to the way we were raised. She mentioned that Mom and Dad taught us to accept and honor people's differences and described how she found that same acceptance in her current ward. Her testimony was a great tribute to Mom and Dad.
Thanks for reading, everyone!
I'm sorry I wasn't able to blog about Dad last night. My sisters, one of my sisters-in-law, a friend, and I are having a sisters' reunion, and I wasn't free to blog last night or even phone Dad, so my report on him is short today.
My two sisters who live in Utah, Lucy and Martha, both say they see Dad as slowly declining. He sleeps more and wants to talk less. His interest in things of this world is declining. Martha took Dad pictures of her new grandson and my new granddaughter and said Dad hardly looked at them and had no response. I've been told that it's hard to visit him because he's so unresponsive.
Dad's lack of response fits so clearly into the pattern described in the booklet on stages of dying that we received when Dad was first put on hospice. It describes a withdrawal from this life as the person prepares for death. My rational mind and my faith both see this stage as a necessary part of Dad's journey into the next life and to his reunion with my mom, with his parents and siblings, and with so many of his friends--and I'm crying as I write this. It's hard to let him go even though I know we need to.
My cousin Laurie Craig (Skip to the family) visited Dad last night and tried to call me, so we could talk. He left a very cheerful message about Dad, saying that Dad looked good and that Dad said he was feeling well.
I phoned this morning to speak to someone at the care facility, knowing it was too early in Utah for Dad to be awake. The nurse had been away for several days, but she checked with the nurse's aide who'd been on duty yesterday. The aide said Dad got up for both meals and ate lunch by himself. The nurse then checked through his chart and said he's "doing great"--a relative term, I suppose!
The nurse then asked if I'd visited Dad at the nursing home where he used to be, and when I explained who I was, said she remembered me. When I told her I'd be visiting in July, she said she'd look forward to seeing me. Her willingness to find out information for me and to connect with me as a member of Dad's family reminds me that they do love and care about Dad there and about us too.
My sister Christie at church yesterday bore a lovely testimony about her gratitude for our family. She talked about how grateful she was to have been taught from an early age to question from a position of faith and that she didn't think she would still be in the Church if she hadn't had that training. Christie clearly also attributes all the siblings being active in Church to the way we were raised. She mentioned that Mom and Dad taught us to accept and honor people's differences and described how she found that same acceptance in her current ward. Her testimony was a great tribute to Mom and Dad.
Thanks for reading, everyone!
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