It's official...
12 pm
As I sit next to my dad, with him practically unconscious in the hospital, I find myself very torn. he was in so much pain that they had to dope him up on a lot of morphine, and because of the morphine, he is practically dead to the world. he knows we're here, and that helps... but that only goes so far. We can lift his spirits to keep him fighting, but we can't stop the bleeding, the clotting, the rupturing, or the pain.
At what point is it too much? We hold on for dear life, quite literally, but will he have any quality life left in him? If this is all he has left, do we make him suffer through it, or would it be more humane to just stop? I hate being the pessimist, it just isn't me. I have always been the eternal optimist, but at what point do you have to face reality? If the doctors say that they can keep him alive, stop the bleeding, stabilize hime, and make him comfortable, how are we really supposed to feel about that? If he is destined to remain in the hospital, in pain, paralyzed on his left side, constantly being doped up on morphine as he slowly wastes away, is it selfish of us to want him to stay for that time?
2pm
We just got the news that we have been dreading to hear. It's most likely going to be a few days, and that we're going to make him as comfortable as we can. We're all a mess. Now the question becomes, what do we do? Well, we know how to lay him to rest, and we know that we don't want to talk to everyone individually, which is why we are communicating over the internet in mass messaging. It hurts too much to talk about it over and over again. The question, "how are you doing" is ridiculous. The answer is obviously, "horrible."
So what do we do once he's gone? Do we have him cremated here and bring back his ashes, or do we fly his body back so his mom can be present for that? I can only imagine how she feels. Everyone always says that the hardest thing in life is to lose a child, and that no parent should have to endure that. Although I don't have children, I understand.
5pm
We have to let him go. Early this afternoon (mid-morning for those in the states), the doctor sat down with all of us and delivered the harsh reality of the situation. The only thing we can do for him is send him off as painlessly as possible.
We started a process to relieve his pain, that will also slowly let him go within 48 hours. We have been staying by his side and talking to him. Although he seems to be completely gone, he can still hear us. We can occasionally get a word or two out of him, but for the most part, it's only facial expressions without his eyes ever opening.
We came home for the night to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we will go back to the hospital to be with him through the end.
To all those who have been writing, thank you. Even though it's impossible for anyone to actually do anything, your kind words do mean something to me.
~ Robin