Life, Interrupted

Dad has taken a turn for the worse.  Yesterday when I was on my way over to hang out and give mom a break, I called to tell her I was on my way.  She sounded stressed, so I asked if everything was all right.  Normally she says it is, even when it isn't, so when she said "no" my alarm bells went off. 

When I got there the nurse was still there, which was great because I could really get a handle on what was going on.  He is getting weaker by the day now, and things are beginning to "shut down."  What an awful thing to hear.  So he lay quietly in his hospital bed (which is in the middle of the living room at their apartment), sleeping.  He was exhausted from the trauma he had gone through with the nurse, just accomplishing the simple act of visiting the restroom.  I can't imagine how horrific it must be for my private, proud dad to have to succumb to having a nurse do those things for him and with him.  While he lay there sleeping, the nurse sits at the kitchen table with my mom and I talking about how he's starting to shut down, and how little time he likely has left.  No longer is my mom able to care for him alone, she will need someone here 24/7 to help her. 

I picked up my cell phone while I was sitting there and sent out a group text message to my hubby, my brother, his wife, my sister, and my MOH.  And people, again I was in awe of how blessed I am to have my family.  Within five minutes I had heard from every single one of them.  And within 30 minutes my brother was here, my sister-in-law was here, MOH was here, and my sister was in her car on her way from where she lives 3 1/2 hours away.  I had also received messages from my sisters-in-law on hubby's side offering love and help, and hubby had assured me that he's ready for whatever I need to do.  My mom was able to breathe a little bit, knowing that her reinforcements were there, and we weren't going anywhere.  I couldn't believe how in this misery I could feel so much comfort and love.

So we all hung out for a while, sometimes quiet (SIL1 had brought a bunch of food--she seriously knows me too well), sometimes talking about what the heck we do from here, and sometimes tending to dad.  I got to sit with my MOH for a while and have our own moment.  I went home for a flash to have dinner with my family and explain gently to the boys what was going on, then I packed a bag and came back.  My sister and I were going to bunker down for the night.  We don't know what's going to happen in the coming days and nights, but oh well.  I guess we'll figure it out as we go.

Late last night sister and I were sitting at the table talking about the whole day.  Dad was finally resting more solid, so we were able to chat openly.  She was telling me how she was talking to dad after she got here and how he was surprised she was there.  He didn't know she was coming to visit this week.  And it dawned on us that we didn't really talk to him about the whole thing.  I don't know what the nurse said to him while she was here, but she probably didn't say, "so you're starting to die now, so I'm going to tell your wife that she needs to start having everybody here as much as possible."  And of course neither did we.  And since I texted people and we were all talking so quietly on the phone, it seemed to him like we all just showed up yesterday.  Looking back on that, it must have been almost alarming to him.  I mean, I know he's aware of his own situation, but still.  I actually felt awful.  Imagine being in his position.  He knows he's getting weaker.  He knows he had a traumatic experience with the nurse that day, and I'm sure he knows that mom can't do this alone anymore.  But he must feel like, "oh, now I'm going to be dying soon, so they all are coming over to watch."  How absolutely hideous.  And I don't know how to fix that. 

This is torturous for him.  It is so unfair that people have to suffer.  But hopefully he will be able to see through all that and see that it is his family being here for him, for his wife, and for each other.  That he somehow built a family that is solid and supportive, and what a beautiful thing that legacy is.  There is no way to keep this situation from being horrid, but we can find sweet peaceful moments in it too.  We watched a bunch of episodes of Modern Family last night.  Dad chuckled a couple times, which was awesome, and mom was laughing really hard.  What better therapy is there than that?  So I guess that will be the game plan while we're here.  Deal with the yucky stuff, and while we sit here getting in each other's way, we can at least try to entertain each other and him. 

One more thing:  last night hubby called me, and I figured it was so I could tuck the kids in over the phone.  But he put my sweet J on the phone, and he was hysterically sobbing.  His fish had died.  I almost started bawling right with him.  I could hear his broken heart over the phone.  He had taken great care of the fish had absolutely enjoyed the fish, how the hell was he supposed to understand this?  And why does this crap happen when I'm not there to curl him up in a ball and hold him?  AUGH!!!!!!!!  I got  him calmed down, telling him we would get him two goldfish to replace his one beta, and I think he was happy about that.  So in the midst of the twilight zone that is going on over here, life is going on out there.  And I have to step out for a while.  Thank God for my hubby and the amazing daddy that he is.  Thank God for the fact that I know my babies and my house are in capable hands while I have to tend to my family.  Thank God for the strength He has given my mom to get through this.

And thank God for giving us humor when we need it the most.