Yesterday I had a long and honest conversation with the hospitalist who is treating my dad; she is wondering what we want to do, since his leg infection is dangerous (difficult?) to treat, he has lost a lot of mental and physical function by being in the hospital, and he has leukemia anyway. My mother is terrified of having him home with Hospice, even with 24 hour (expensive) nursing care; she doesn't want all the strangers and visitors around all the time, as well as watching my dad, her husband of 66 years, die in front of her. There is comfort care at the hospital, which means taking away the antibiotics and letting him die--probably within a week. If we choose that, four of us can visit, two at a time. We had mostly decided on that route when the hematologist called this morning. He says that Dad's blood numbers are better, the infection is treatable, and he believes that dad can get back on his feet. So, now I am completely torn. I wish Dad were more lucid so we could find out what HE wants. I understand the dying process: the pulling away, the transformation from being aware and interested in the world and your loved ones to almost a closed in state. The father I've loved all my life is no longer the same person, and I accept that it may be time to let him go. Yet I hesitate to write him off or make that decision prematurely. Why, oh why, can't our medical system get their sh*t together? These mixed messages are agonizing.
We've moved into March though, and there are signs of spring. For everyone who calls my "Mountain Men of Alaska" a beefcake calendar, you can see from Murph that there are normal guys in it!
We're still trying to make decisions about what to do with some of Poochie's stuff, like this dental foil. My grandfather was a dentist, and Poochie kept this gold (18 or 24 carat) and at least 100 toothbrushes. Every time I opened a drawer, there were more unopened toothbrushes. After a while, it made us laugh. People who shop at the Ellensburg Goodwill are going to have excellent teeth!
Poochie also had SO many coins: a variety of silver dollars, very old and unusual pennies, and yes, ANOTHER Krugerrand, this one 1/2 ounce. Is there such a thing as a reputable gold, coin and jewelry buyer? And how do I find one without revealing too much about myself and where I live?
We located Poochie's wedding ring which is quite a rock. Should I get it appraised before I try to sell it? So many questions and no clear answers.
In the midst of these many messes, the cycle of life continues.
