I am an adult today

That’s really sad. I’m almost 53, but today I think I became an adult.

Didn’t go to the hospital today. Was sitting out on the patio when I heard my phone ring. It was Mom. She wanted to ask me a question. She and my cousin had a long question and answer with 3 of Dad’s doctors today.

He has infections everywhere. They’ve been giving him antibiotics, and the infections haven’t gotten better, but they haven’t killed him either. ‘What do you want us to do now?’ was their question. Mom called to ask me what I thought. They want to give him a feeding tube. He hasn’t been eating. If he ate, he might get better. No guarantees. *sigh* No guarantees. But Mom would hate herself if she didn’t give him that chance. I don’t think it’s much of a chance. Neither does she. But he keeps holding on. All of the things he’s gone through. All of the stuff that’s wrong with him now. But he’s holding on. She would hate herself, despite all that she has done for him so far. So we will do this. Not much more and not much longer. If this doesn’t help him, I really don’t thing anything will. I agreed with Mom on this one. We have to give him the chance. Between the doctors and us, he’s alive. I could hear the relief in her voice when I agreed with her. She doesn’t want to let him go. I don’t either. If feeding him will give him enough strength to survive, we will feed him. I’ve tried to feed him with my own hands, but I can’t be there enough. And Mom doesn’t have the strength, physically or of will power, to stand by his bedside for an hour and make him eat.

I love Dad. I want Dad to live. I really don’t look forward to life without Dad. And while I do want him to live, I don’t want him to suffer. And he has done more suffering in the last month and a half than I’ve seen before. And I’ve seen quite a bit. Multiple myeloma treatments twice, prostate cancer once. None of them fun. My Mom is suffering, too. Really, she has probably suffered more than my Dad has. She’s been conscious way more than he has. I’ve watched her dwindle. It looks like vampires have been after her. I told her that I really don’t want to lose both my parents at once.

I’m concerned that my sisters will be angry. But I’ve been there, driving Mom back and forth to the hospital. Spending a couple of hours with Dad, feeding him when I could. Feeding Mom, when I could, too. Taking her to buy something, buying easily made food for her, staying with her while she eats. If they want to be angry, they can take over for me. I think I have some understanding of both Mom and Dad’s condition. I’ve spent enough time with them to know. I’ve seen Dad fail, slowly but surely. Mom is following after, slowly but surely. I don’t know if Dad can be saved, but Mom can. I won’t let either of their lives be spent in futility.

So, we will do this. We will give him the best chance we can to live. But we won’t keep him alive just because life without him is harder. Oh, so much harder.

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