I Still Live...
Before I do anything else I want to say "THANK YOU!" to those who responded to my last entry. Along with those who posted comments, there were several of you who read it and commented privately. I've tried to thank each of you personally - but given the way my mind has been working lately I'm likely to have missed someone. I want all of you to know that I honestly do appreciate your comments and encouragement. They helped more than I think any of you will ever know.
As of 04:00 US Pacific Time, I have survived another year. I'm sure that at some point I'll be glad and feel like celebrating - right now I just feel ... numb.
However ---
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Ritual thumbing of nose at medicos, doomsayers, and others who all swore I'd be dead before I reached my quarter-century mark
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-sigh-
Saturday morning, Chris - our HomeHealth case worker gal - came by to check up on us. She went back to talk to Grandpa for a few minutes. When she returned to the living room to speak with me and Grandma, she vonunteered to start the paperwork to have Grandpa admitted to the local Hospice program.
For anyone who happens to read this and who is unfamiliar with Hospice in this context....
Basically, it is a program that is set up for terminally ill patients - as in, they expect the qualifying person to be dead within six months at an absolute maximum. It means that the Powers That Be see no hope of cure, of recovery, of even staying at the current condition.
Six months ago, Grandpa did not qualify - he was too healthy. Now - Chris volunteers to set things in motion, saying that there will be no problem with him qualifying now, saying that they wont even need to do the standard blood tests on him.
Grandma and I have *known* since the first of December that Grandpa was dying and that he didn't have too much longer. We knew this. We accepted it.
Why then has this hit both of us so *hard*? Why does it all somehow seem so much more *official* now? Why does it seem so much *worse* now?
As of 04:00 US Pacific Time, I have survived another year. I'm sure that at some point I'll be glad and feel like celebrating - right now I just feel ... numb.
However ---
*************
Ritual thumbing of nose at medicos, doomsayers, and others who all swore I'd be dead before I reached my quarter-century mark
*************
-sigh-
Saturday morning, Chris - our HomeHealth case worker gal - came by to check up on us. She went back to talk to Grandpa for a few minutes. When she returned to the living room to speak with me and Grandma, she vonunteered to start the paperwork to have Grandpa admitted to the local Hospice program.
For anyone who happens to read this and who is unfamiliar with Hospice in this context....
Basically, it is a program that is set up for terminally ill patients - as in, they expect the qualifying person to be dead within six months at an absolute maximum. It means that the Powers That Be see no hope of cure, of recovery, of even staying at the current condition.
Six months ago, Grandpa did not qualify - he was too healthy. Now - Chris volunteers to set things in motion, saying that there will be no problem with him qualifying now, saying that they wont even need to do the standard blood tests on him.
Grandma and I have *known* since the first of December that Grandpa was dying and that he didn't have too much longer. We knew this. We accepted it.
Why then has this hit both of us so *hard*? Why does it all somehow seem so much more *official* now? Why does it seem so much *worse* now?