Sunday came and dad made it home. The admitting hospice nurse showed us how to care for our dad, and answered any questions we had. When she left I was nervous and anxious. It was up to us now, to make sure our dad was comfortable, safe, and cared for. At this point there were four of us, all sisters, rotating tasks and providing care.We rotated his position every 2-hours during the day, and every 3-hours throughout the night. Before each procedure I would tell him, “Okay dad, we are going to change you/move you/give you medication now. Is that okay?”
By now our father was less verbal. He could respond with head gestures or in the expression of his eyes. He still recognized family members, but couldn’t talk. As each day passed he became thinner and lighter. As his pain became more obvious, we had to decide between him being awake and in pain, or medicating his pain, which caused him to sleep. When you want to have as much time with your dying loved one, these are not great options, however the right decision was obvious.
One of our sisters left on Wednesday, and I felt her absence quite rapidly. She understood me most, and so with her gone, I felt alone to some degree.
On Thursday the nurse visited and helped us with concerns that arose along the way. She checked my dad’s vitals and informed us that his breathing and digestive noises were still good, and that his blood pressure was a little high. We talked about the changes in his breathing being an indicator that he was close to the end of life. It sounded like my dad might be around a bit longer, so we talked about how we could best stretch out our work leave in order to stay with him. We all decided to stay as long as we could and address any gaps in need if that time should come.
We knew that every person’s death was different, and that although there are similarities in process, you just don’t know what to expect. So we were prepared for a longer stay if that was what was needed.