Monday, May 18, 2009
It's so difficult to watch Rusty's family go through this. Grandpa H has been in a state of decline for quite some time now, and has finally reached the end stages. His family has been told that the only thing keeping him alive is his pacemaker (which they keep calling a "defribulator" for some reason). He is getting shocks from it several times a day, and it's becoming clear that it's agitating him more than anything else. He's very weak, but alert, and very aware of his physical state, and has made it clear that he's ready to die.
That's such a strange concept to me. As horrible as my depression and anxiety has ever been, as close to suicidal as I've ever been, I've never been anywhere close to being ready to die. Of course by the time I'm 86 and unable to walk or participate in my own daily care any longer, I can imagine things will feel considerably different, but still, when I try to imagine how it feels to think that way, I am overwhelmed by the helplessness, the frustration, the sadness.
When Rusty got the phone call that Grandpa was not likely to make it more than another day or two, he was shellshocked--it's not terribly surprising, but it's a huge interruption of our everyday lives--going to work, attending his DD's dance recital, the costs of traveling, etc. It takes a few minutes to really think through your priorities and decide what the best thing to do is. Naturally, he chose to go see him one last time, and I'm glad he did. Grandpa was able to tell him specific messages to Rusty's mother and ExWife for Rusty to deliver, and told him, "I want one last hug before I die." The process of wasting away in a hospital bed in his own living room has unfortunate similarities with Rusty's father's passing, too, so he's not only losing a beloved Grandfather, but reliving his dad's process, too. I can only imagine the emotional chaos it's causing him, and I feel helpless as a wife just watching it happen.
It's also difficult watching Grandma going through it. I just don't have the heart to make light of how difficult it must be for her. She has her own health problems, compounded by the fact that her youngest son lives with them with his young teen children who both run wild and are headed for certain troubled futures. I don't expect she'll receive much support from them, and I doubt she'll live very long after Grandpa dies.
On the far more positive note, I got a call from work calling me in for an extra shift tomorrow. That never happens, and since I missed a shift yesterday to go with Rusty to see his grandpa, it's sorely needed. Speaking of work, I never got a call about that Soda Jerk job I applied to last week, so I guess that's a no. I'm not even sure what I think about that.
That's such a strange concept to me. As horrible as my depression and anxiety has ever been, as close to suicidal as I've ever been, I've never been anywhere close to being ready to die. Of course by the time I'm 86 and unable to walk or participate in my own daily care any longer, I can imagine things will feel considerably different, but still, when I try to imagine how it feels to think that way, I am overwhelmed by the helplessness, the frustration, the sadness.
When Rusty got the phone call that Grandpa was not likely to make it more than another day or two, he was shellshocked--it's not terribly surprising, but it's a huge interruption of our everyday lives--going to work, attending his DD's dance recital, the costs of traveling, etc. It takes a few minutes to really think through your priorities and decide what the best thing to do is. Naturally, he chose to go see him one last time, and I'm glad he did. Grandpa was able to tell him specific messages to Rusty's mother and ExWife for Rusty to deliver, and told him, "I want one last hug before I die." The process of wasting away in a hospital bed in his own living room has unfortunate similarities with Rusty's father's passing, too, so he's not only losing a beloved Grandfather, but reliving his dad's process, too. I can only imagine the emotional chaos it's causing him, and I feel helpless as a wife just watching it happen.
It's also difficult watching Grandma going through it. I just don't have the heart to make light of how difficult it must be for her. She has her own health problems, compounded by the fact that her youngest son lives with them with his young teen children who both run wild and are headed for certain troubled futures. I don't expect she'll receive much support from them, and I doubt she'll live very long after Grandpa dies.
On the far more positive note, I got a call from work calling me in for an extra shift tomorrow. That never happens, and since I missed a shift yesterday to go with Rusty to see his grandpa, it's sorely needed. Speaking of work, I never got a call about that Soda Jerk job I applied to last week, so I guess that's a no. I'm not even sure what I think about that.
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