Cremation talk, Morphine and feeling lost/unneeded (well, sort-of)...

It's truly amazing how many friends my Dad has accumulated over the years...many of whom were always close family friends and "around" but somehow without me realizing that Dad, I think, surrounded my brother, Anne and I with the people we would absolutely need if something ever happened to him (not sure he realized that either).  The outpouring of kind words, offers to help and just basic support has been overwhelming and comforting at a time like this.  Unfortunately, there are some people that have a harder time handling this "death" thing than others and it's hard for me not to label them as "fair-weather friends."  I'm so protective of Dad that it's difficult not to be angry at those I know are important to him that haven't shown up or even sent a card.  Guess I should get over it.

So far this week has been a lot of the same.  Dad seems to be in about the same place as I left off in the last blog: really physically weak, to the point of needing help with just about everything.  The difference in this week  is that Anne is now home with Dad, no more school and Josh has been around a whole lot more-both are fantastic and quite a relief for me and I think for Dad as well.  BUT, all of the sudden, Dad only wants the men to help him with transfers and doesn't seem to want to count on me for much.  I guess he's trying to give me a break, but it hurts that he doesn't seem to trust that I can still do all of the things I've been doing for a couple of months now and even gets a bit snippy with me wanting to wait for Josh to move him around, when in fact Josh is looking to me for proper transfer "etiquette" and how best to go about doing whatever caregiving needs to be done.  I am so thankful to have more people around, I really shouldn't be complaining.

I stopped by Dad's this morning, to find him up and in his favorite recliner in and out of sleep.  The Home Care Aide and the Hospice Nurse were both coming this morning at 10am and I wanted to be there to hear what they had to say.  Dad, Anne and I talked for a while before they got there.  Anne said that in the middle of the night Dad was really agitated because he was uncomfortable and unable to move his feet by himself.  At this point he has trouble talking and is, at times, difficult to hear/understand, so the frustration only increases when we can't read his mind to do what would make him more comfortable/happy.  This becomes even more frustrating to someone when its a middle-of-the-night thing.  Ugh.  Dad is relatively pain-free except through the night, when he's lying down he says his side hurts under his right rib-cage.  Cancer.  That particular lung is mostly completely diminished and so that's where the pain shows up.  Thank God (or whoever) for left lungs!  The nurse suggested that we start using Morphine between the agitation and the pain just at night.  That will hopefully help him relax and rest more peacefully.

I called the crematorium today, a set up best to do before hand according to Hospice as they will take care of making the phone call for us when Dad does pass away.  The woman I spoke with was very sweet and explained how much easier it would be for everyone to go the direct route instead of a funeral home.  How screwed up is it that I'm talking to someone about this?!  After getting off the phone and dry heaving a little I was able to get it back together; Is it weird that I feel physically ill after that phone call?  Probably not.

Okay, so that's kind of it for now.  Please feel free to "share" this blog by passing on however you would like to people that would like to know.

xoxo
Lil