Just heard from one of my very best friends who moved to California last year. If you get all the way through this, you can see her ironic comment about Mom at the end. Little did she know. Now she does. She sent this report:
Sorry I haven’t written the last few months–as things here have gone from bad to worse.
Our main computer went out in November and Bob has been gone with our laptop–so it has been very
difficult to get to email or internet without a trek into the town library–with only a few terminals, always full.
For the last several weeks I’ve been down in southern Illinois, with my dad, in a little town called Scheller, where I grew up. I finally have access to the Internet (today) by visiting my brother’s home.
I’m here with my 93 year old dad who is fighting terminal cancer and a heart that is only putting out half of what it should. In the few weeks I’ve been here, dad is slowly getting weaker and weaker. He is under the care of the Veteran’s Administration who is providing free in-home hospice care for him with a group called “Hospice of Southern Illinois.”
They will only provide in-home care if there is a full-time care giver available. Since I have the time,
I agreed to come and assist dad. But it is a challenge–as dad is “set in his ways” for sure and we’ve
had to have a few “meet Jesus” meetings so he understands my role. He can really be cantankerous–
and part of this, I know, is his anger about his illness. So we’re trying to do the best we can.
I did think that last Tuesday would never end, as I sat with him and we did his federal and state taxes!
At this point I was ready to take several Xanax!
Hospice support has been tremendous and through them, dad has a wide variety of medical devices
that make things easier–a wheel chair, a hospital bed that lowers, raises, etc, a special shower bench
with handles, a comode with handles that fits over the regular toilet, etc. A visiting nurse (Susan) comes on M-W-F then a home health aide who helps with bathing and grooming dad comes on T-Th. Dad and I have settled into a somewhat normal routine.
Several days ago he went on liquid morphine for pain management–so I was taught how to give dad
morphine via the mouth after measuring it in a plastic syringe type device. Dad gave up taking
all of other 5 medicines about 6 days ago after announcing they were “killing” him–and, in all
honesty, he did appear better soon after! Now he’s just on pain medication, morphine, when necessary
and a heart relaxant “Atavin.” I am sure learning more about all of this than I ever anticipated.
Dad has an oxygen machine that gets hooked up with a nasal air piece when he feels short of breath.
He also has a “foley” bag that drains the bladder from a catheter insert. I have learned how to service
the machine, how to empty the foley bag, how to adjust dad’s meals, etc. etc. I feel like I’ve been
out here a longgggggg time already.
For what it’s worth, we published dad’s war memoir and picture several years ago on the Internet. It can be found by googling: raymond witges war story or here:
http://www.nbrhd.net/warstorynet.htm
Bob’s side of the family is also in crisis mode: His younger sister Meg, 59, who lives north of Fort Lauderdale was diagnosed in November with Stage 4 uterine sarcoma cancer that has spread to all lymph nodes. Bob stayed with her a month over Christmas and into January, just as I was getting ready to leave for my dad. Bob will fly out again on Sunday to be with Meg for a while. Meg went through 3 chemo treatments and tumors are still appearing. I believe she will end treatment and deal with a terminal illness–and she is an intensive care nurse, so she, sadly, knows what she is up against. She estimates a 3-6 months life span.
Sorry to be so overwhelmingly morose with this email. I’ve had no access to internet for a while and my dad’s place doesn’t even pick up cell phone reception.
Wendy, Bob mentioned that per Face Book, your mom recently turned 95. She really has a strong constitution. Her genes bode well for you!
