(no subject)
Yesterday I visited with Bob, my mother's sweetie of almost 20 years. I stood by his bed, held his hand and told him that I love him. Later, I sat beside him on the bed and he told me that one of his favorite memories was of the two of us reading the Sunday New York Times together. I told him that Tom and I still talk about taking a tour of his grandson's nuclear sub when it was docked at Point Loma. Mom stayed behind since she didn't want to go down the ladder into the sub, but Bob, Tom and I got a full tour, including seeing Brandon's bunk, the shower room (this was just after one of the "gays in the military, what about the showers?" episodes in our recent history), the library, which mostly had best sellers, and the command room complete with periscope.
Bob has been a rock for my mother all of their time together. He has been solid and steady while she is more emotional. He has been at all of the family weddings. Watched the grandchildren growing up. Been at Passover seders, Thanksgiving, Channukah, Christmas. He nursed Mom through her recovery from abdominal surgery last winter. Helped her weather the difficulties surrounding Neil's accident and Nancy's death. Yesterday he told me "take care of Jeffrey" and I responded "I will. And Carol and I will take care of Mom. And all you need to do is take care of yourself."
I remember years ago being at an airport with him and his telling me how much he liked watching people there--everyone coming and going, being happy to see each other again, or sad to be leaving. It was only last year while waiting for Mom to come out of surgery that I learned from Bob about his travels around the Mid-West setting up and running new department stores (Hudsons?), moving every few years. He is a modest man and disinclined to talk about himself.
Sometime in the past year his MDS converted to AML, a particularly fast-acting form of leukemia. He is too old for bone marrow transplant or the traditional chemotherapy, which is especially virulent. He has been getting transfusions and a new therapy called Vidaza. This past Sunday, after discharge from the hospital following his second staph infection he decided to forgo these measures and receive hospice care. By Thursday, he lay in bed sleeping most of the time. While I was there, he rallied, talking with his son and grandson on the phone, sitting up at the edge of the bed to drink and ensure and talking with me at some length. After I left, the nurse came and found that he had progressed. After hearing the description of what is to follow, Mom decided that it was time for Bob to move to the hospice facility down the street. We expect that it will only be a few more days. I'm glad that I got to see him in his own bed.
Bob has been a rock for my mother all of their time together. He has been solid and steady while she is more emotional. He has been at all of the family weddings. Watched the grandchildren growing up. Been at Passover seders, Thanksgiving, Channukah, Christmas. He nursed Mom through her recovery from abdominal surgery last winter. Helped her weather the difficulties surrounding Neil's accident and Nancy's death. Yesterday he told me "take care of Jeffrey" and I responded "I will. And Carol and I will take care of Mom. And all you need to do is take care of yourself."
I remember years ago being at an airport with him and his telling me how much he liked watching people there--everyone coming and going, being happy to see each other again, or sad to be leaving. It was only last year while waiting for Mom to come out of surgery that I learned from Bob about his travels around the Mid-West setting up and running new department stores (Hudsons?), moving every few years. He is a modest man and disinclined to talk about himself.
Sometime in the past year his MDS converted to AML, a particularly fast-acting form of leukemia. He is too old for bone marrow transplant or the traditional chemotherapy, which is especially virulent. He has been getting transfusions and a new therapy called Vidaza. This past Sunday, after discharge from the hospital following his second staph infection he decided to forgo these measures and receive hospice care. By Thursday, he lay in bed sleeping most of the time. While I was there, he rallied, talking with his son and grandson on the phone, sitting up at the edge of the bed to drink and ensure and talking with me at some length. After I left, the nurse came and found that he had progressed. After hearing the description of what is to follow, Mom decided that it was time for Bob to move to the hospice facility down the street. We expect that it will only be a few more days. I'm glad that I got to see him in his own bed.