Elderly, Frail and fighting to Survive!

Last night was one of those insomnia laced nights where no matter how hard I tried, I could not get comfortable. I even got up to let the dogs out at about 2:30 a.m. and witnessed the most beautiful eclipse of the moon. The moon was bright orange and the stars looked like I could just reach up and touch them.  It's times like this when you suddenly are aware of how small you are as the overwhelming vision of the night sky can take your breath away. I went back to bed, but sleep eluded me. So, when the phone rang at about 8:15 a.m. I was just looking forward to a restful morning; slowly sipping my coffee and scouring the newspaper for Pre-Christmas sales. But, the universe was conspiring against me-yet once more!

The person on the other end of the line was one of my sisters. She said: "I am at the hospital but don't worry nothing serious it's just that Mom called me at 6 a.m. to tell me that Pop wasn't feeling well. He has not been to  the bathroom in 3 days. He is being checked out by the doctors and I need you to come to the hospital to help me as I need to go to the airport to pick up my son and family who are visiting for holidays." Of course I was very concerned as my Pop is 89 and in frail health. Apparently, he didn't tell Mom that he was having difficulty going to the bathroom as he was afraid of being taken to the hospital; his least favorite place in the world!

Well, at this point the fact that I had not slept well and the idea of the quiet morning quietly sipping my coffee
and reading the paper would have to wait. As I drove to the hospital, I thought about how the roles have changed in the last few years.  This is the man who I so feared as a child. This was the man who made me so afraid of him that I would wet the bed every night. This was the man whose voice would make me shake and tremble when I would hear him coming home from what ever bar he had recently visited. This was the man I would secretly wish would drop dead after he would physically hurt me. Now I am rushing on my way to the hospital as worry occupies my mind not knowing what I will see when I get to the hospital.

As it turns out, when I reached the hospital they were discharging him after treating him in the emergency room. He is 89 after all; not much they can do-with congestive heart failure, swollen ankles, barely able to walk without a cane, and most bodily functions going haywire and now he is a mere shell of his former self. The small, decrepit man no longer looks intimidating as he is wheeled out of the emergency room. There is no longer anything to fear. If you blew on him, he would probably fall down to the floor. Now he needs help to care for himself. That looming and intimidating man I used to run and hide from is losing his life energy and essence. Little-by-little his light is dimming as his body is showing its age and he is inching toward the final days in this existence. He is now visibly uncomfortable about how he has to depend upon me and other to care for him.

I know that he knows what he did and now he is defenseless. You would think that I would feel some sort of satisfaction in seeing him as he is now. But that couldn't be further from the truth! I don't know why he has had such a long life and how it is that he has beaten the odds. With all his health issues, he should have passed away years ago. But, there is such a desire in him to live; to survive. And as I stand over him while he sits in his room at home, I can't help feeling protective over him and anxious to make sure that he is comfortable. He will now have to wear diapers, and when he breathes there is a rattle which is evident of fluid in his lungs. His 90 birthday is May 16th of next year and I worry that he faces many challenges to reach that milestone!

At this point, I pray that he gets to enjoy another Christmas with his family......just one more time!