top of page

Strange beast indeed

Mom had a meeting with Dad's doctor last night, as he and the rest of the care team had observed a marked decline between Tuesday and Wednesday. Dr. Jim (as he asks to be called because no one can pronounce his last name) told mom that what they call the Transition Phase has started. It can last from one or two days to one or two weeks. Basically, Dad's packing his bags.

The biggest indicator of this, Mom went on to explain, is Dad's increased confusion. He now sometimes thinks he can walk on his own, and he called her at 10:00 last night, annoyed because he wanted to come home but the nurses wouldn't let him. He had even succeeded in getting both the bed's side guards down (Davis has since assigned him a "one-on-one" to make sure he doesn't try to wander off).

This last development actually has me smiling a bit as I imagine his thought process: "Welp, it's fall, so the lawn needs to be raked. Better clean the gutters, too. Let's see, where's my jacket...?" I mean, for a guy who is accustomed to spending his leisure time biking mountain passes, it must be so counter-intuitive to spend hour upon hour in bed--and more so as his brain loses the capacity to understand why he's there.

I was, however, not looking forward to today's FaceTime call. I was afraid he would beg me to ask them to spring him from the joint or something. So imagine my surprise when he not only followed our conversation but made several comments and laughed at two of my jokes (and they weren't even that funny)! I didn't have to use either of the tissues I'd brought along.

Death is a really strange beast, isn't it?

Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Search By Tags
No tags yet.
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square
bottom of page