Thoughtful Stillness

It's a strange thing, the worry one feels over a loved one... Someone they're bound to, a soul they're responsible for day in and day out... I now understand the deep worry my Dad would have for me when I was away for a few days at a time.

How strange it is to now be in his role; the guardian who cannot rest easy at the thought of their ward being so far away.

Dad's in the Hospital again.

Got him admitted last night after getting him to his podiatry appointment in the morning. His level of confusion was at an all time high and I decided after he Finally got his toe nails taken care of after a Year of not being able to, that I would just take us right over to the ER to have him checked in. I knew they would eventually admit him. I only did this because I was told by not only his doctor, but by his social worker and a few others connected to his needs through the VA Loma Linda that if he started becoming that confused again that I need to take him straight away.

So I did.

There's guilt inside me...knowing that he's scared and anxious and just wants to come home...meanwhile I'm here with some time to myself; to shower, to drive to the store, to sit in my room and catch up on shows I've recorded. I feel torn. I feel that even though it's a true blessing to have this time to myself, that I should be at the hospital with him.

I know that he's getting the care he so desperately needs... But when I called him this morning (having promised him last night that I would) he still sounded...so very confused. I had to stop his chaotic thought process just so he'd take a moment to hear me...and even then he continued on his tangent that even I had a hard time following (and trust me, that's bad).

The rate of his mental deterioration is weighing heavily on me. Those moments I spoke of, seeing him in glimpses... Moments I cherish so deeply...

*takes a deep needed breath and lets it out slowly*

I've just noticed something very unsettling. The pattern of me getting him to the hospital for care, at first though he didn't want to be there any longer than need be, he understood that it was to help him and he was able to just go with it until he was given the okay to go home. But now... Even after I've explained things over and over, not sugar coating things because I believe he deserves the truth no matter how confused he can be, knowing he appreciates my honesty... He understood why we were going, why he needed to be there, that there is a possibility they may want to get him into another rehabilitation center again for His benefit... The conversation this morning was painful on my heart.

Under the impression I was coming to get him. Telling me that I was supposed to come and pick him up. That he'd been there long enough. That if I didn't he was going to call the cops. I had to spend almost 20 minutes to calm him down to get a straight answer from him. I asked if the staff had made any comment about him being let go today and he said they hadn't. I asked if he'd received his tapping yet (where they extract excess fluid from his abdomen due to the liver damage) and he told me that hadn't done that either. I had to get these little bouts of information through the chaos of his ramblings. 

I was trying to be supportive and understanding for him and even kept my cool when he decided to hang up on me...

*pauses to take another breath and lets it out with a sigh*

I still feel the panic rat clawing at my chest, wanting to get away from the anxiety boiling up from my tired being. I do want him Home, but ONLY when he's more himself again. I don't want to just send him somewhere because I can't deal with it anymore. I may feel like I'm about to lose my shit and just snap, but I can keep going. I'd never just give up on him like that. If that were the case, I would've been gone years ago and would've never had the chance to get to him in time. If I hadn't been there when he starting getting sick...

*smirks and shakes her head* I wouldn't be writing about this now, would I?

There's always the hope that things can get better... But I'm also a realist. Without a Liver Transplant, it's just a matter of time, especially in his condition. I don't need a biopsy to tell me his condition is bad. He's showing all the signs for the late stages of Cirrhosis. Just gotta find any means necessary to make him as comfortable as possible.

Yes this tears me up inside, but it's just how it is.

*yawns and rolls the sore muscles in her neck as her feline children stare at her from her bed*

It's weird that I'm able to be sitting here typing this right now...knowing that I can do so without having to be on watch like before. Yet, even though I have this small window of freedom, I still have that edge thrumming along the back of my spine. Still alert, still ready for any moment that a voice would call out to me from the darkness. 

I miss being still. Those quiet moments where I can sit and take in the world around me. I had that earlier, outside surrounded in the chilly night and found my heart warm at the sight of what appeared to be fog streaming gently around the corner street lamp. 

My precious friend...a swirling mist I've missed so desperately since I left my home by the sea. It doesn't carry the scent of the Blue Mother with it, but it's a comfort just the same. It reminds me of good memories no matter how fleeting. It reminds me of home.

And on that note...I will attempt to wind down and eventually fall asleep. Knowing that tomorrow is yet another day filled with more uncertainty of what the future holds. Honestly, I'm not too worried about it. Because as of right now, I'm just enjoying this short window of peace. 

And to me, that's definitely a gift.

-Adieu