Yesterday, January 27, 2011, I took half a day off from work, as I was laying on the couch resting with the cat, I got a phone call. A kidney specialist had just seen Grandpa and called to let me know that the news was not good.
She was a very caring and nice doctor who even said she hates to have these talks over the phone.
Basically, his kidneys are failing him. Back in June 2010 he was hospitalized because his kidneys were failing, so this was not the first time. There are a few options they are looking at for why his kidneys could be failing, but if they cannot find a reason and reverse it, then he would need dialysis. Grandpa and I have already discussed this in the past and he is not willing to even consider dialysis. The doctor did say that she would agree with this decision.
I asked the question that would be on anyone's mind, how long can he live with failed kidneys and no dialysis? The answer was about 1 week. I was not expecting this news, although it was not unfathomable to think he could go at any moment. For the first time since this has started back in June, I cried. I cried off and on for an hour, and then I cried some more.
I opted to take the girls up to the hospital to see him more time, in case he got bad really fast. I didn't want to tell the younger two what was going on, but they are pretty perceptive and asked if Grandpa was dying.
So, at bedtime we talked and cried and discussed what it means to die, and when it will happen. Sometimes it is easier to talk about ahead of time, but other times it would be easier if I could just give them answers.
These talks bring in religious views, and what we do believe. I was raised to believe there was a God, but never worshiped. I have raised my girls in the church. Up until this last year, when I started working Sundays, we were at church more than half the year. They find comfort in knowing that Grandpa will be in heaven with God and watching over us. I found comfort in it as we talked about it last night.
Just as my evening was winding down and I was going to get my homework done, my husband called. It turns out he was having an allergic reaction to something he ate or drank at work. I ended up calling my oldest and having her come back and spend the night so I could take him to the ER.
You know you have been in the ER too much when they recognize you, especially a busy ER.
Today, January 28, 2011, Grandpa signed the will. This has been years in the making, and as he is laying on his death bed, we finally get him to sign the papers that give me the power to make sure that things are handled the way he wants them.
Next steps include making phone calls to let all the family know what is going on. I did call my uncle, who lives with Grandpa. He was up visiting at the time the doctor visited so I thought he knew and I just wanted to make sure. He ended up calling my birth father, and confusing the entire situation.
My sister, who had been caring for Grandpa, has not gone to see him during this current hospitalization. She saw him once in the first week, never at the skilled nursing facility, and once during the second hospitalization.
I am a little surprised at those who had claimed to care so much for this man, have not made an appearance up there.
Today he had visitors from work, and it was nice for him to see them. By the time I got up there he was pretty tired and really needed to rest.
Tomorrow I will go see him. I have another nearly child free day.
Tonight, I will rest and remember the man who has been my father for so many years.
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