Friday, December 30, 2005
December 30
Yesterday passed quietly. Bamps slept for most of day. He had some jello, some juice and some water, but wasn't really interested in anything else. At least until Wheel of Fortune came on...Vanna White was worth waking up for! He didn't watch much TV, unless a good movie was on, but he never missed Wheel of Fortune.
I spent the day there at the hospice, watching TV, reading the papers and doing the crossword puzzles. The staff had ordered out for pizza for themselves and the patients and their families, mostly because traffic was horrendous. The hospital was near two major malls and people were doing their after Christmas shopping. It would have been faster to walk the three miles to home than it would have been to drive three blocks!
About 8:30 Bamps woke up suddenly and asked me what I was still doing there - I should go home and get some sleep. The nurses would call if Hank and I needed to come back in. He asked me to bring him some pancakes and sausage from McDonald's the next morning, as that was our Saturday morning ritual.
I headed home, and arrived shortly after Hank had pulled in. We were both tired, him from work, and me from hanging out hospice. After playing with the cats, and feeding them, we went to bed. They were still on sofa, still curled up together.
I couldn't sleep that night so I got up and watched TV. This was before cable and late night television 1988 really sucked, but it was noise. About 7 am Hank got out of bed and we dressed, fed the cats and went by McDonald's to pick up our breakfasts.
When we got to the hospice, about 9 am or so, my grandfather was alert, but was very pale and his breathing was somewhat labored. The nurse on duty, whose name I can't remember said that the doctor would be in around 9:45 or so. My grandfather decided he wasn't interested in breakfast, so Hank and I split his pancakes and sausage between us.
While he had been mostly pain free during his illness, he was in a great deal of discomfort today, mostly because of back pain. I also learned for the first time that in some people, pain sometimes becomes part of the dying process as the body fails. I just never knew that. He also cannot rest unless he is sitting up - his lungs hurt if he tries to lay down.
When the doctor arrived, about 10 pm, after examining my grandfather, he suggests that to control the pain, we can give my grandfather morphine. It will help his pain, but it will also sedate him, and make his breathing more shallow. This doctor was the "real" hospice doctor and was very open about my grandfather's condition. Death was going occur in a matter of days. Hospice can make comfortable and give support to him and us. Before he would give my grandfather the injections, he said that if there is anyone my grandfather wanted to see or talk to, do it now and he'd have the injection ready whenever Bamps was.
Bamps had me make phone calls to my mother, his sister, nephew, a friend in Tampa. He was too weak to talk long, but got on the phone long enough to say what he had to say. While the people on the other end were teary, my grandfather wasn't. He was ready. I think he was the only one.
There were only two people in town he wanted to see, a couple he and my grandmother had been friends with since we moved to Pompano in 1960. The wanted to wait and come on in that evening, but my grandfather asked if they could come now. He said he was sleeping a lot and as long as he was awake, now would be a good time. In about an hour they arrived. It was not an easy visit for them. I don't' think they were ready to let go anymore than I was. But there are some things in like we can't have our way.
At about noon, my grandfather requested the first morphine injection. We held hands until he fell asleep. I walked down to the nurses station to asked "what next?" I know that sounds incredibly stupid. I mean, I knew we were waiting for my grandfather to die. He knew what to do, but I was clueless! It wasn't the first time they'd been asked that question apparently.
The nurses said it would be a good thing if I stayed at the hospice now as well. My grandfathers condition was poor and he could go at any time. They asked if my grandfather would want his clergy member called, and since he didn't have one...well there was Fred, our Episcopal chaplin friend and fellow Yankees fan. They gave him a call, and he called back and asked if I wanted him to come in to give my grandfather Last Rites. My grandfather probably wouldn't want it, but I did, so around 4pm Fred arrived.
We had the Last Rites service, which my grandfather slept through, but Fred and I, a couple nurses, a volunteer, and a couple of family members of other patients did participate. It was very nice...for us, at least. Fred joked before he left that it was a good thing he slept through the service; why change now? Or something to that effect. It was funny when Fred said it.
I spent the rest of day watching television, watching my grandfather sleep, and pacing the halls. Hank worked that day, and came it around 6, bringing dinner from McDonald's. We reminisced a lot, talked with other patients, their families, and staff. About 10 Hank headed home to take care of the cats. I told him to just come back tomorrow morning. I was going to stay there. He said he'd make up a suitcase of stuff for me to keep there.
What I really wanted was for him to bring Kobi back, but animals weren't part of the in-hospice hospital scene yet. I think my grandfather would like having Kobi there. Georgina would be too skittish to bring in, but Kobi was a calm cat, and would love any opportunity for new people to worship and adore him. I can imagine he'd curl up at the foot of the bed and stay put.
Finally, at about midnight, I took a double shot of the scotch that was in the care package Hank had delivered earlier in the day and settled in to the easy chair for the night.
I spent the day there at the hospice, watching TV, reading the papers and doing the crossword puzzles. The staff had ordered out for pizza for themselves and the patients and their families, mostly because traffic was horrendous. The hospital was near two major malls and people were doing their after Christmas shopping. It would have been faster to walk the three miles to home than it would have been to drive three blocks!
About 8:30 Bamps woke up suddenly and asked me what I was still doing there - I should go home and get some sleep. The nurses would call if Hank and I needed to come back in. He asked me to bring him some pancakes and sausage from McDonald's the next morning, as that was our Saturday morning ritual.
I headed home, and arrived shortly after Hank had pulled in. We were both tired, him from work, and me from hanging out hospice. After playing with the cats, and feeding them, we went to bed. They were still on sofa, still curled up together.
I couldn't sleep that night so I got up and watched TV. This was before cable and late night television 1988 really sucked, but it was noise. About 7 am Hank got out of bed and we dressed, fed the cats and went by McDonald's to pick up our breakfasts.
When we got to the hospice, about 9 am or so, my grandfather was alert, but was very pale and his breathing was somewhat labored. The nurse on duty, whose name I can't remember said that the doctor would be in around 9:45 or so. My grandfather decided he wasn't interested in breakfast, so Hank and I split his pancakes and sausage between us.
While he had been mostly pain free during his illness, he was in a great deal of discomfort today, mostly because of back pain. I also learned for the first time that in some people, pain sometimes becomes part of the dying process as the body fails. I just never knew that. He also cannot rest unless he is sitting up - his lungs hurt if he tries to lay down.
When the doctor arrived, about 10 pm, after examining my grandfather, he suggests that to control the pain, we can give my grandfather morphine. It will help his pain, but it will also sedate him, and make his breathing more shallow. This doctor was the "real" hospice doctor and was very open about my grandfather's condition. Death was going occur in a matter of days. Hospice can make comfortable and give support to him and us. Before he would give my grandfather the injections, he said that if there is anyone my grandfather wanted to see or talk to, do it now and he'd have the injection ready whenever Bamps was.
Bamps had me make phone calls to my mother, his sister, nephew, a friend in Tampa. He was too weak to talk long, but got on the phone long enough to say what he had to say. While the people on the other end were teary, my grandfather wasn't. He was ready. I think he was the only one.
There were only two people in town he wanted to see, a couple he and my grandmother had been friends with since we moved to Pompano in 1960. The wanted to wait and come on in that evening, but my grandfather asked if they could come now. He said he was sleeping a lot and as long as he was awake, now would be a good time. In about an hour they arrived. It was not an easy visit for them. I don't' think they were ready to let go anymore than I was. But there are some things in like we can't have our way.
At about noon, my grandfather requested the first morphine injection. We held hands until he fell asleep. I walked down to the nurses station to asked "what next?" I know that sounds incredibly stupid. I mean, I knew we were waiting for my grandfather to die. He knew what to do, but I was clueless! It wasn't the first time they'd been asked that question apparently.
The nurses said it would be a good thing if I stayed at the hospice now as well. My grandfathers condition was poor and he could go at any time. They asked if my grandfather would want his clergy member called, and since he didn't have one...well there was Fred, our Episcopal chaplin friend and fellow Yankees fan. They gave him a call, and he called back and asked if I wanted him to come in to give my grandfather Last Rites. My grandfather probably wouldn't want it, but I did, so around 4pm Fred arrived.
We had the Last Rites service, which my grandfather slept through, but Fred and I, a couple nurses, a volunteer, and a couple of family members of other patients did participate. It was very nice...for us, at least. Fred joked before he left that it was a good thing he slept through the service; why change now? Or something to that effect. It was funny when Fred said it.
I spent the rest of day watching television, watching my grandfather sleep, and pacing the halls. Hank worked that day, and came it around 6, bringing dinner from McDonald's. We reminisced a lot, talked with other patients, their families, and staff. About 10 Hank headed home to take care of the cats. I told him to just come back tomorrow morning. I was going to stay there. He said he'd make up a suitcase of stuff for me to keep there.
What I really wanted was for him to bring Kobi back, but animals weren't part of the in-hospice hospital scene yet. I think my grandfather would like having Kobi there. Georgina would be too skittish to bring in, but Kobi was a calm cat, and would love any opportunity for new people to worship and adore him. I can imagine he'd curl up at the foot of the bed and stay put.
Finally, at about midnight, I took a double shot of the scotch that was in the care package Hank had delivered earlier in the day and settled in to the easy chair for the night.
