Never mind trying to maintain sanity - it's easier to embrace the insanity. Especially when I feel like I am surrounded by the animal version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest: a deformed kitten limps around like a bird with a broken wing, its sibling's raspy breathing is as heavy as my father's, a black & white cat that's fat enough to be in the Guinness Book of World Records gorges itself, ole "Mini-Me" (Siamese mix) sneezes so hard it shakes her entire frail body, the token "defective" rabbit hops happily in the backyard, and the chicken's perch above the desk remains empty.
Although it's crazy, it's home. Perusing the garage for a clipboard, I see tidbits of notes my dad wrote to others - imparting his knowledge about cars and tools. The smell of grease, oil and metal are more so my father's scent than Old Spice ever was. The huge "fix-it-yourself" manuals gather dust on the shelf above the always-stocked tool chest... In fact, the only salient piece that doesn't seem to have dust on it is the smooth chrome on the Harley.
Roberta from Hospice of the Owens Valley was very sweet. I am amazed these wonderful people are on-call 24-7 to help with all kinds of needs - physical, social, emotional... talk about angels. Their philosophy statement is, "We believe death is a natural part of, and necessary closure to, life as we know it. It is our philosophy that dying persons have the potential to learn, teach, console, enjoy, plan, and laugh during this period of living." They are all about openly and honestly dealing with the prospect of death, which is healthy.
While Hospice will help with providing support services and some equipment, eventually Pioneer Home and Health Agency is the alternative when our needs are more extensive and complex. Already, Roberta has helped greatly - she informed us with the good news that my dad's oxygen level is up to 95% while using the tank, provided us with a thorough living will and other documents, and helped to communicate with Dr. Boo regarding a change in his pain medication to ease his suffering. BTW, I just heard on the news (Stanford study) that love relieves pain more than a pain killer; the same areas in the brain that are used for falling in love are also used to feel pain... Hmmm... Wish it were so simple a solution.
Knowing more about the free Hospice support makes me feel more comfortable about having to go back to LA to work. Today I realized that I could be satisfied to just hang around and help care for my dad as a full-time "job." Later I received an email from my partner teacher saying the students missed me and this made me realize that at least I have a meaningful job to return to...
Most of all, I wish my dad didn't have to go through the immense pain and discomfort he is withstanding... I can't help but think of Chief Bromden, the seemingly mute half-Indian patient in the Cuckoo Nest, for his strength that extended beyond brawn.
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Thanks for this Jessie. Even though this entry is difficult to read (and even more difficult for you to write), you are amazing with words. You paint such a detailed portrait of home, family, love, grief, pain, and understanding that I feel like I am there with you. I wish I could be. I love you and I am sending all of my thoughts and prayers your way...
ReplyDeleteJess - Life is supposed to be about lessons, right? Well, for the life of me, I never could understand what lesson my Mom was supposed to gleen from her years of (as I think of them) incarceration in the nursing home.
ReplyDeleteIt's the same for your Dad. I don't know what he's supposed to gain from this. It's not reasonable or fair, but life is seldom fair. We do not know what cards we'll draw - all we can do is play them well, and treat each day as a gift, and to be kind to one another.
Peace and courage, kiddo.