Friday the 13th

Friday, 13 April 2007

Friday the 13th....Should have expected craziness to happen. The kids at school finally finished a grueling week of state testing and SAT testing. My poor kindergartners died in today's section called "Environment" where they were expected to identify who was in the armed forces, how oil travels, who Abraham Lincoln was, and where water for rivers and streams come from, etc. Even the swift kids didn't do too well. Having a full week of testing though made this week low-key as far as planning goes, which was nice because it was a draining week at home.

Came home to talk to the Hospice social worker and Bernice and Dad. She acted as a mediator this afternoon. Apparently, this morning, Bernice had requested ambulatory services to move Dad and his belongings from our house down to her house. Although my brother and I don't think he should be moving in his weakened state and condition (and after we have already changed all of his accounts, address, mail, and informed medical staff of the change in his primary care providers), and after a lot of discussion, arguing, and tears this afternoon, Dad is moving back (yes, again...and even though this last time was supposed to be permanent, this next move REALLY is supposed to be permanent) to the house in Palolo at 3513 Pakui Street probably early next week. Dad merely listened, as his voice and energy is weak. Though, before he started to go downhill last week, he did mention that he doesn't want to burden me and Chris and my baby, in our new beginnings. I reminded him today that it is not a burden and that we all prefer to have him here at our home with us, that we just want to make sure he is comfortable and at peace and not see his care being compromised. The Hospice nurse and social worker and Dad's doctor also have concerns about him moving in his weakened state, and Hospice is refusing to provide assistance in transferring him or his medical supplies to the other house. Ultimately, after two and a half years of caregiving, and after two hours of intense discussion yesterday between me and my stepmom, it was my Dad's decision. And, I must respect his decision.

I'm not certain to what capacity I will be caregiving, but I will still maintain the calendar on google.com for visits and such, and I am requesting a caregiving plan be put in place and be presented to us in writing so that I am assured that his care will not be compromised again. Throughout our conversation this afternoon, Bernice apologized for mistakes made in the way she handled situations in the past and asked for forgiveness, stating that she has now come to accept that Dad is dying and that she just wants to be with him for his remaining days. She knows that she needs to prove it to me and my brother so that she will gain our trust. The social worker told me "Sorry" before she left, and she told me that it is part of her job to make sure she does not put Dad in an unsafe environment, as her license would be on the line too. Although the nurse and social worker stated it is a possibility that he could get weaker as a result of the move, it is ultimately his decision.

Please call Bernice (home 808-739-1372/cell 808-223-1926) if you would like to visit and/or help out at the house. Dad's condition, although he is still weak and lethargic, has improved since earlier this week. We got oxygen delivered yesterday, and although he still does not have his voice and it probably won't come back (though his audible voice does come and go, and we have been reminding him to limit his phrases and words to save his energy and breath), he is eating a little better and is trying to catch up on sleep.

Dad still wants to die at home (vs. a hospice facility) and would appreciate visitors (as long as you can lip read!). I know he has many friends that would like to see him.

Thank you to those who brought groceries over, did errands, fixed our railings, and brought over lunch and dinner and spent quality time with Dad over the past few weeks he's been with me and my brother Jason. We really appreciate your care and concern. Thanks for all of your love and support through all of this. It's been a tough journey, and I hope he goes in peace.

My friend Teresa just sent me a beautiful quote:
"It is by suffering that human beings become angels."
Victor Hugo

Thank you, Teresa. I hope that I will be able to develop trust and forgiveness so that I will be able to comfortably spend time with Dad, for the rest of this precious time he has left.