Tuesday, December 27, 2005
December 27
Christmas and December 26th went quite well. Despite having hardly any appetite, my grandfather managed to eat a few bites of turkey, two or three candied yams, some green beans, two slices of pumpkin pie and half a container of orange sherbet. His rational was "life is uncertain, dessert isn't."
We had a steady stream of visitors, mostly neighbors who came bearing cards. Some of them, having just returned from The North (we had lots of snowbirds in the park) were shocked upon seeing my grandfather. He had changed dramatically in the past few months.
Around Easter, his hair was still salt and pepper, but now it was totally white. The Kaposi's was leaving it's mark on most of his body, except his face - he only had one lesion - but his arms and legs were covered with them. He had lost a tremendous amount of weight since then.
On December 26th he decided he wanted to go sit on the patio, despite his weakness. I helped him out around 11 am and we stayed there until around two. We had a lawn chaise, so he was able to spread out and relax. Lots of neighbors came by, some with their dogs. We decided to let the cats out as well. They weren't exactly the roaming types so they stayed on the patio. Kobi decided the area under the lawn chaise was perfect for him and one of our neighbor came by with Kobi's best friend a toy poodle, who crawled under the chaise with Kobi. The kids next door came over and showed us all the toys Santa had dropped off. Since the kids were there, we decided to bring out the rest of the sherbet and we all finished it off, although my grandfather only had one bite.
Around two we decided to go back in. Ellie and Manny arrived just as we were trying to get up the stairs. My grandfather had suddenly become very weak. Normally only one nurse showed up, but because of a scheduling mishap, both Ellie and Manny were there at the same time, which turned out well.
Shortly after we got back inside, my grandfather lost control of his bowels again, and Manny took advantage of the opportunity to not only give my grandfather a shower, but to wash his hair, give him a manicure and gossip about the neighbor across the street who was showing off her new skintone string bikini to everyone. (Well, she did have the figure for it...)
Ellie did her usual physical. My grandfather's blood pressure had dropped and he had a slight fever. His breathing was a little more shallow than usual, but he did have a very busy morning. Ellie asked if my grandfather's spirits were good and he said about as good as they could be. Ellie made arrangements to come back tomorrow morning, with the doctor, because she felt that we should start thinking about perhaps moving him from the house to the hospice center. If Hank and I wanted to we could stay there as well, even though the only place we'd have to sleep were either the sofas in the lounge or in one of the easy chairs in the room.
My grandfather said he'd think about it, but he'd just assume stay home as long as possible. That way he didn't have to share a television with anyone!
That afternoon, after Manny and Ellie left, my grandfather took a long nap, not waking up until 10pm. He said he dreamed he and my grandmother were sitting on the porch of their old duplex on 25th Avenue with his parents and my mother, and me, when I was about 2 1/2 years old.
When Hank and I went to bed that night, we talked about what Ellie had suggested; and decided that if Bamps wanted to stay home or go, we'd support his decision.
Late that night I woke up when I though I heard Hank in the bathroom. Hank was next to me though. I got out of the bedroom, check the bathroom and it was empty. When I went into the living room, I saw my grandfather sitting at the kitchen table doing a crossword puzzle; problem was I also saw him sleeping on the couch. When I looked back at the kitchen table he was gone - now he was just sleeping on the couch. His breathing didn't sound just right, but he seemed peaceful. Kobi, who was usually at his feet or on the back of the couch had moved and was laying on the arm of the couch, at my grandfather's head. Georgina was under the coffee table, on Bamps' slippers.
Although I went back to bed, I left the door open. I couldn't get back to sleep.
About 7:30 Hank left for work, and my grandfather was still sleeping. The cats were away, but they hadn't left their places. A few minutes after Hank left, another car pulled up, and Dr. S. and Ellie got out.
After apologizing for coming early without calling, Dr. S. woke my grandfather up so he could examine him. He sat down of the sofa with Bamps after he had finished the examination and said "Benny, I think it's time you moved to the hospice. You'll be much more comfortable."
My grandfather hadn't let on that he was having pain every time he exhaled, but Dr. S. could tell. Bamps asked "What do think Pumpkin?" I said if Dr. S. thought it was a good idea maybe he should do it, but the decision was up to him.
He said he was ready to go. Dr. S. made a few phone calls, we packed up a suitcase of things my grandfather wanted to take, and by 11:00 the ambulance arrived to transport him to the hospice. After the ambulance pulled out, I called Hank to tell him what was happening, but just got his voicemail.
I called my mother, my friend Chris, Bamp's sister Dorothy, his nephew, and his friends to tell them what was happening, then left for the hospice.
When I arrived there was a bit of a commotion. Bamps had a private room - sort of. The other occupant died during the night, and for some reason there was a problem in moving his body out. Actually his kids were fighting over where the funeral would be. You'd think that they'd do that in person, but instead were playing phone tag. In the meantime their father was just hanging around in the next bed because the hospital morgue was full, and the funeral director was not able to get their until two. My grandfather quipped that least he wouldn't have to ask if it was OK to change the TV channel!
Around 4pm, the hospice doctor came in. Actually he was a medical resident and it was his first time "doing" hospice. He was overly cheery. It's one thing to have a bedside manner, it's another to be Perky Pete. Anyway he asked how my grandfather was feeling, my grandfather told him he was very tired, and the doctor said (this is how you could really tell this guy had NEVER worked with a hospice patient before) "Well don't worry Mr. B we'll have you up and around in no time."
My grandfather looked at me, looked at the nurse, then looked at doctor and said "You moron! I'm dying! I'm not going to be getting up and going anywhere!"
That was the closest I'd ever heard my grandfather being snippy to anyone. Ever.
All the doctor could say was "Uh, I'm sorry. That really was a stupid thing to say."
My grandfather told him to forget about it - he looked to young to be doctor and deal with dying people anyway.
And then they came with the dinner tray and we found where food goes when it dies. It was hospital food with a severe case of depression. Bamps asked me to bring him a hamburger from Wendy's and his chocolate Ensure. The nurses said bringing meals in fine. They do it all the time. It turns out this particular hospital wasn't exactly know for it's culinary talents. To this day I have never seen green beans that grey.
I came back from Wendy's just as Hank arrived and after spending a couple of hours there, Bamps sent us home. He just wanted to sleep. He said to bring the newspaper when I came back in the morning and we'd do the crossword together.
It felt very strange to not have him at home that night. Kobi and Georgina took up residence on the couch, side by side. Kobi was obviously depressed. I think he knew things would never be the same again.
We had a steady stream of visitors, mostly neighbors who came bearing cards. Some of them, having just returned from The North (we had lots of snowbirds in the park) were shocked upon seeing my grandfather. He had changed dramatically in the past few months.
Around Easter, his hair was still salt and pepper, but now it was totally white. The Kaposi's was leaving it's mark on most of his body, except his face - he only had one lesion - but his arms and legs were covered with them. He had lost a tremendous amount of weight since then.
On December 26th he decided he wanted to go sit on the patio, despite his weakness. I helped him out around 11 am and we stayed there until around two. We had a lawn chaise, so he was able to spread out and relax. Lots of neighbors came by, some with their dogs. We decided to let the cats out as well. They weren't exactly the roaming types so they stayed on the patio. Kobi decided the area under the lawn chaise was perfect for him and one of our neighbor came by with Kobi's best friend a toy poodle, who crawled under the chaise with Kobi. The kids next door came over and showed us all the toys Santa had dropped off. Since the kids were there, we decided to bring out the rest of the sherbet and we all finished it off, although my grandfather only had one bite.
Around two we decided to go back in. Ellie and Manny arrived just as we were trying to get up the stairs. My grandfather had suddenly become very weak. Normally only one nurse showed up, but because of a scheduling mishap, both Ellie and Manny were there at the same time, which turned out well.
Shortly after we got back inside, my grandfather lost control of his bowels again, and Manny took advantage of the opportunity to not only give my grandfather a shower, but to wash his hair, give him a manicure and gossip about the neighbor across the street who was showing off her new skintone string bikini to everyone. (Well, she did have the figure for it...)
Ellie did her usual physical. My grandfather's blood pressure had dropped and he had a slight fever. His breathing was a little more shallow than usual, but he did have a very busy morning. Ellie asked if my grandfather's spirits were good and he said about as good as they could be. Ellie made arrangements to come back tomorrow morning, with the doctor, because she felt that we should start thinking about perhaps moving him from the house to the hospice center. If Hank and I wanted to we could stay there as well, even though the only place we'd have to sleep were either the sofas in the lounge or in one of the easy chairs in the room.
My grandfather said he'd think about it, but he'd just assume stay home as long as possible. That way he didn't have to share a television with anyone!
That afternoon, after Manny and Ellie left, my grandfather took a long nap, not waking up until 10pm. He said he dreamed he and my grandmother were sitting on the porch of their old duplex on 25th Avenue with his parents and my mother, and me, when I was about 2 1/2 years old.
When Hank and I went to bed that night, we talked about what Ellie had suggested; and decided that if Bamps wanted to stay home or go, we'd support his decision.
Late that night I woke up when I though I heard Hank in the bathroom. Hank was next to me though. I got out of the bedroom, check the bathroom and it was empty. When I went into the living room, I saw my grandfather sitting at the kitchen table doing a crossword puzzle; problem was I also saw him sleeping on the couch. When I looked back at the kitchen table he was gone - now he was just sleeping on the couch. His breathing didn't sound just right, but he seemed peaceful. Kobi, who was usually at his feet or on the back of the couch had moved and was laying on the arm of the couch, at my grandfather's head. Georgina was under the coffee table, on Bamps' slippers.
Although I went back to bed, I left the door open. I couldn't get back to sleep.
About 7:30 Hank left for work, and my grandfather was still sleeping. The cats were away, but they hadn't left their places. A few minutes after Hank left, another car pulled up, and Dr. S. and Ellie got out.
After apologizing for coming early without calling, Dr. S. woke my grandfather up so he could examine him. He sat down of the sofa with Bamps after he had finished the examination and said "Benny, I think it's time you moved to the hospice. You'll be much more comfortable."
My grandfather hadn't let on that he was having pain every time he exhaled, but Dr. S. could tell. Bamps asked "What do think Pumpkin?" I said if Dr. S. thought it was a good idea maybe he should do it, but the decision was up to him.
He said he was ready to go. Dr. S. made a few phone calls, we packed up a suitcase of things my grandfather wanted to take, and by 11:00 the ambulance arrived to transport him to the hospice. After the ambulance pulled out, I called Hank to tell him what was happening, but just got his voicemail.
I called my mother, my friend Chris, Bamp's sister Dorothy, his nephew, and his friends to tell them what was happening, then left for the hospice.
When I arrived there was a bit of a commotion. Bamps had a private room - sort of. The other occupant died during the night, and for some reason there was a problem in moving his body out. Actually his kids were fighting over where the funeral would be. You'd think that they'd do that in person, but instead were playing phone tag. In the meantime their father was just hanging around in the next bed because the hospital morgue was full, and the funeral director was not able to get their until two. My grandfather quipped that least he wouldn't have to ask if it was OK to change the TV channel!
Around 4pm, the hospice doctor came in. Actually he was a medical resident and it was his first time "doing" hospice. He was overly cheery. It's one thing to have a bedside manner, it's another to be Perky Pete. Anyway he asked how my grandfather was feeling, my grandfather told him he was very tired, and the doctor said (this is how you could really tell this guy had NEVER worked with a hospice patient before) "Well don't worry Mr. B we'll have you up and around in no time."
My grandfather looked at me, looked at the nurse, then looked at doctor and said "You moron! I'm dying! I'm not going to be getting up and going anywhere!"
That was the closest I'd ever heard my grandfather being snippy to anyone. Ever.
All the doctor could say was "Uh, I'm sorry. That really was a stupid thing to say."
My grandfather told him to forget about it - he looked to young to be doctor and deal with dying people anyway.
And then they came with the dinner tray and we found where food goes when it dies. It was hospital food with a severe case of depression. Bamps asked me to bring him a hamburger from Wendy's and his chocolate Ensure. The nurses said bringing meals in fine. They do it all the time. It turns out this particular hospital wasn't exactly know for it's culinary talents. To this day I have never seen green beans that grey.
I came back from Wendy's just as Hank arrived and after spending a couple of hours there, Bamps sent us home. He just wanted to sleep. He said to bring the newspaper when I came back in the morning and we'd do the crossword together.
It felt very strange to not have him at home that night. Kobi and Georgina took up residence on the couch, side by side. Kobi was obviously depressed. I think he knew things would never be the same again.
