Friday, October 21, 2005
Fusillades of Futility
This is my 4th attempt at a new post. If this one vanishes, I'll be pissed.
It's strange right now. My Dad is dying, slowly, and I had to give permission to stop using extraordinary steps to keep him alive. Nobody told me this was part of middle age. No heart attack, no accident, just a tired, sick old man hanging on and not really wanting to, and having to tell them yeah, let him die.
But, as many of my friends in the know have told me, keeping him alive right now would be cruel. He's got two kinds of pneumonia, a blood disease, he's catheterized, colostomized, got a shunt, a feeding tube in his stomach...he's a mess. He's 73 and diabetic, just to make things extra great.
That's my sadness. The bad part of current existence.
A friend suggested I begin blogging the saga of Basher the Wonder Dog ala "Fight Club". "I am Basher's messed up ear". I suggested "I am Basher's Triangular Asshole". That should be fun. Expect episodes in the near future.
You've been warned.
I got Julie's note, and asked her to relay my concern, but since you're blogging about this, I'll lay it out here as well.
As I mentioned to Julie, it's been hard for me to know what to say. Platitudes come to mind, but seem hollow in the face of actual suffering.
All I can do is wish you the best as you fight your way through this, and to offer my hopes that your dad suffers as little as possible.
You've got a great network of friends who are concerned for you and helping you, but if there's any extra bile that needs to be worked out of your system, feel free to vent my way.
Peace,
Kevin
I'm worried for you this morning, and you and Dad have my thoughts and prayers for comfort, for peace, for an end to pain. For gentle rain to mix with tears, for rose-scented breezes to remind you of Mom and how happy she'll be to see him.
We're here for you. See you soon.
<< Home
