What matters most is health. Your health is everything. Without it what good can your life be? Sometimes I take my health for granted. Actually not sometimes, a lot of times. Until something comes along that makes me realize how lucky I am that I am healthy and so are my children. Especially my children. I cannot imagine dealing with a terminally ill child.
Dad is in the hospital, again. 5 times this year. He’s been in since Friday. He had called me Thursday morning stating he thought he had a stroke Wednesday night because he couldn’t move his right arm and was having trouble breathing. I said to call 911 right away and that I was on my way. He said no he felt okay. My dad’s pretty stubborn. I ended up calling for him and talked to the paramedics when they got there. They told me he was able to lift his arm above his head and based on some other tests they felt he didn’t have a stroke. He refused to go with them for further tests. I called him periodically throughout the day and he didn’t seem right to me but he refused to go to the hospital for help. Friday morning I was on my way to see him and see what was going on and I called prior and he told me he wanted to go to the hospital. So that’s how we ended up there on Friday morning at the emergency dept. It only took them until today, (Wednesday) to determine that yes he had a stroke and possible heart attack.
He was in the cardiac care unit until yesterday morning and then when his heart was stabilized they moved him into a regular room now. His heart is still in bad shape, but because of his health and age they cannot do any invasive procedures so he is just on heart medications. His mental state however has continued to deteriorate. Yesterday he didn’t recognize me at all and was unresponsive. It was scary and horrible. He hadn’t’ eaten much since being admitted so I convinced the nurse to put him on an IV to keep him hydrated at least.
Today he recognized me and knew who the pictures of S & L that I put up were. But it’s only a marginal improvement. He is still very drowsy and the doctor doesn’t know why. She’s not giving me much hope. She’s very blunt and states that if there’s no improvement in 5 days or so, I have to consider putting in a feeding tube if he doesn’t eat. My hands shake as I write this. And if he doesn’t want the feeding tube then they have to figure out a way to make him comfortable until…. And that’s what I can’t figure out, the until part. So what does that mean…until he dies?? His mental state was fine on the Friday that we went. Why is it deteriorating? Why can’t they fix that?
What kills me most is the guilt. There’s only me. And I have horrible feelings as I’m driving home leaving him there alone and scared. Guilt as I eat dinner with my kids. Guilt when I’m doing something that he cant. I don’t know how to make it stop. Guilt that I can’t sit there with him 24hours.
They say life/God only gives you what you can handle. Really? Who made that up? Because they must think I am super woman?? I’m not.