The Sunday after
So, after the horrible Saturday, quiet. Peace? Just maybe.
Although we were walking on eggshells, Sunday morning turned out quiet. He usually sleeps till noon, so we were pleasantly surprised to find that he slept through the night and then on through the morning. He seemed only a little restless in that he continued with the crumpling of the blanket and the occasional reach with his hands, but no more of the trying to get up or the extreme agitation. We let him be until about 1, when one of the Hospice nurses came to give him his sponge bath. Sadly, then, we found that it was very hard to wake him. He couldn't sit up, and he really couldn't speak. With the nurse's help we got him up enough to change his soaked clothes and underthings, and I sat up behind him to hold him up so she could give him a shave. I think he cried a bit when he realized I was holding him upright. The nurse gave him a gentle bath in the bed, and then we tucked him back in softly and he slept again. He slept through the afternoon, and he was asleep when I said goodbye to come home.
Mom says he continues now much the same. He is sometimes alert, but mostly too weak to get up or even sit up. They have moved him into a hospital bed in the living room so he can be in the center of things still and also so they can care for him better. It's not easy to watch, but it is good to see him finally, finally, seem to stop struggling and fighting. I don't know what out of the thousands of things we said Saturday worked, if it was even anything of us, but somehow we seem to have reached an acceptance. Even the main nurse and the chaplain were surprised at how peaceful he is. So, whether the end is at hand or not, this can only really be a good thing. Peace is a good thing.
Although we were walking on eggshells, Sunday morning turned out quiet. He usually sleeps till noon, so we were pleasantly surprised to find that he slept through the night and then on through the morning. He seemed only a little restless in that he continued with the crumpling of the blanket and the occasional reach with his hands, but no more of the trying to get up or the extreme agitation. We let him be until about 1, when one of the Hospice nurses came to give him his sponge bath. Sadly, then, we found that it was very hard to wake him. He couldn't sit up, and he really couldn't speak. With the nurse's help we got him up enough to change his soaked clothes and underthings, and I sat up behind him to hold him up so she could give him a shave. I think he cried a bit when he realized I was holding him upright. The nurse gave him a gentle bath in the bed, and then we tucked him back in softly and he slept again. He slept through the afternoon, and he was asleep when I said goodbye to come home.
Mom says he continues now much the same. He is sometimes alert, but mostly too weak to get up or even sit up. They have moved him into a hospital bed in the living room so he can be in the center of things still and also so they can care for him better. It's not easy to watch, but it is good to see him finally, finally, seem to stop struggling and fighting. I don't know what out of the thousands of things we said Saturday worked, if it was even anything of us, but somehow we seem to have reached an acceptance. Even the main nurse and the chaplain were surprised at how peaceful he is. So, whether the end is at hand or not, this can only really be a good thing. Peace is a good thing.
posted by me at 12:39 PM
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