I'm back in Louisiana as my Father's health has taken a dramatic turn for the worse. He's been in the hospital for a couple of weeks now and just a couple of days ago it looked as if he would be going home. Then, in the span of one night, things went downhill in a hurry. He's currently in the ICU at North Oaks Hospital here in Hammond and though it's still very unclear if he will be able to pull through, perhaps it might be time for him to move on.
His quality of life has been horrible the last year or two and when I was down here at Christmas, it was clear to me that he was close to being ready. He's fought a good fight, better than I had ever imagined, but I could see it in his eyes last month, that will to live at any cost was gone. And you know what? As much as I will miss him, and I will miss him tons, I totally get his reasons for not necessarily giving up but refusing any drastic measures to keep him alive.
The doctors and nurses have taken great care of him and this hospital is very nice, so I'm grateful that he's had such wonderful care. My brother and I are here, his wife Lynn, her children and grandchildren as well and friends seem to come quite regularly. If this is indeed his time, I know it will be better for him having all of us here.
If praying is your kind of thing, say a prayer for my Dad tonight. He's one of the good ones and I know he'd appreciate it. If, like me, praying isn't quite your thing, well, think good thoughts and use your Jedi powers to keep the Force alive and well.
3 comments:
Our thoughts and prayers will be with your dad and family.
It seems to me that even when we want them to be here for us and not 'go away,' they know when they're ready. Even when it appears that they're getting better, we then realize it may be what they want. We always cling to the hope that they'll get better and hang on for a few more months or even years. The hospitals, the poking and prauding, the meds, the treatments, and all that go along with it, are just one more thing that adds to the agony. It's so hard to let go. When you look into their eyes and see the strength slowly slip away, that's when you know. You feel helpless and guilt-ridden, thinking of all the things you should have done, said, or whatever else your mind thinks of. But in reality, you know you were the best child you could have been, young as well as in adulthood. And that's all that really matters to them.
Many hugs your way, Kelly.
Well said Jacq.
It's a sad time but I think that it's time.
Thanks for being there.
Sorry to hear about Pops, Kelly. We'll be thinking about you.
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