"I don't know what to tell you," says the doctor. "This is the way it is when someone is dying. It isn't the heart, the kidneys, any one thing anymore. They pass in and out of lucidity. And it's very hard to tell you what to expect." He's a good guy, this doctor, and we don't have unreasonable expectations, of him or of this process. We're all waiting, wishing it could be easier.
There seems to have been a change starting on the weekend. My father-in-law is very weak but still insisting on getting up even though his legs won’t hold him; they're giving him morphine now as well as a sedative, to try to keep his blood pressure down, help his groaning, and keep him a little more manageable because he's been really angry, disoriented, and unable to communicate what he wants. He's refusing his other medications, and today, even water, though he ate last night, and apparently it's been a real struggle to give him the morphine and lorazepam. It seems like we're getting down toward the end but that it's going to be a struggle right up to the final moment; J. and I will be heading down there again tomorrow.
Why the refusal to give up, to go gently? Because peace flowing out of a simple conclusion never suited this contradictory man, whose mind has wrestled with the big questions as long as it could - and perhaps still is, as he grapples with confusion, growing darkness, and the fear he might have been wrong. Life -- the material body and the rational mind -- are what he knows and what he can hold onto as true. The rest: unknowable, and, except in poetic speculation, that was never the territory he wanted to travel.
Thinking of J. and you, Beth.
Posted by: V. | July 23, 2008 at 07:39 PM
The rest: unknowable, and, except in poetic speculation, that was never the territory he wanted to travel." Beth
Thank you...accepting the unknowable (without scaring myself to death, or in my case drinking myself to death) was the key...trust, for me opened the door to feeling emotionally stable...I wish "acceptance" for him..it's very freeing.
Best to all of you at a difficult transitioning time.
Posted by: Leonardo Ricardo, San Juan, Puerto Rico | July 23, 2008 at 08:24 PM
I'll be thinking of the three of you and hoping for the best for you all.
Posted by: Kaycie | July 23, 2008 at 09:20 PM
(o)
Posted by: dale | July 23, 2008 at 09:32 PM
Why ? Because morphine can make some people agitated. I wish you the very best. If the groaning your father in law is making is not about pain, perhaps you should check with the doctor about the wisdom of this course of treatment.
Posted by: Cordelia | July 23, 2008 at 11:38 PM
Thinking of you especially now.
Posted by: mary | July 23, 2008 at 11:52 PM
It seems that many people die as they have lived, with all the problems that may imply. From sad experience I agree with Cordelia; every drug has a side effect. Sometimes one has to work as hard for a natural death as for a natural birth.
May peace come to you all soon.
Posted by: P.E.A. | July 24, 2008 at 03:43 AM
"confusion, growing darkness, and the fear he might have been wrong"
That's what I expect for myself at the end. Thanks, as always, for sharing this with us, and as always we're sending you (and him) our thoughts and very best wishes.
Posted by: language hat | July 24, 2008 at 08:33 AM
My heart and prayers are with you all. Sending virtual hugs as well.
Posted by: margaret | July 24, 2008 at 04:01 PM
{ Beth }
I wish him a peaceful and safe journey to that other shore, however he might imagine it.
Posted by: udge | July 24, 2008 at 05:51 PM
Beth, I've been thinking of you these past weeks and checking in frequently to see you. May his journey be blessed with the sanctity of a well-lived and loving life. Hugs to you,
Posted by: Loretta | July 25, 2008 at 08:25 AM
Oh, oh, oh... it is all such a mystery, isn't it.
I will be thinking of you all.
Posted by: Pat | July 25, 2008 at 10:51 AM
Dear Beth. I have nothing to say that others haven' already said, save to remember the words of The Prophet
"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?"
Blessings...
Posted by: Mouse | July 27, 2008 at 03:04 AM
Hi Beth--
I'm quite sure you're in tune with this factor, but just in case--from my many years in hospice work, some of them in the spiritual care arena: might your father in law have unfinished business that he could take care of--people that are in or out of his life that he needs to speak with the few things we end up with: 'I'm sorry, Please forgive me, I forgive you, I love you.'? Sometimes the anxiety of unfinished business can make the passage much harder and the spiritual pain greater.
And sometimes the unfinished business just has to stay that.
Just some thoughts--
Beth Patterson
Posted by: Beth | July 27, 2008 at 05:21 PM