It's bizarre... When I read my other discussion posts I sound so weepy and not together... but I think most of that is the freedom to pour out here, then I gather myself for the me that is by my dad and with my family coping and supporting and being less self - focused.
Now I'm here with my darling dad as he continues very slowly and steadily... I can't grasp how he can keep going, but he does. He doesn't want to go, he has never "comes to terms" with it... (I have seen that with loved ones, grace and calm and more concerned for us remaining then themselves - how do they do that? ) - he doesn't want to go, I am not ready for him to go but I can't breathe that in this room, and I know that he HAS TO GO sometime soon. I don't want him cling on as things get worse.
The attempt to catheterise him 36hrs ago wasn't successful and in order to have the alternative method he needs to be in hospital, but we promised him we won't do that - he had us promise no hospital, no hospice... so there's no catheter (but no urine since July 3rd - Weds morning, but no fluids in since Tuesday evening). He's not directly evidencing any pain and has only ever had one small dose of morphine. His other meds are there to aide secretions and reduce agitation but I find it inconceivable that there's no pain or discomfort... and worry that the meds make it impossible for him to show it... it's all such a conundrum... and, again, I'm back to my inner anxiousness...
Forgive me, but the nights are long and I'm here alone for 12 hours+. It's a relief is a pop to the loo, or make a brew and when I pop upstairs to check in my 80 yr old mum sleeping there, at the tail end if her pneumonia and facing the loss of her soul mate.
So I/we just wait, hoping that my darling dad can let go.
