My father is 93 and about a month ago, I began to notice that he was getting a little more withdrawn. His appetite waning. My father and I would make it a point to see each other almost every weekend since we moved back to Corpus Christi in 1994. He is a strong man, born in 1917 and experienced the world as a musician, entertainer and father. He enjoyed a good cigar and coffee every time we met. He survived the war and moving to another country.
He was diagnosed with colon cancer when he was 88 and had a colon resection that certainly gave him another few years to live. He always felt good. Never complained that he had cancer. In fact, if it was not by our insistence, he probably would not have had his first surgery. He asked me at that time, “why go to surgery when I feel so good”. We all knew that the few years he had with us were a gift because of that surgery. Unfortunately, a few months ago he was diagnosed with a secondary tumor to the liver , “about the size of a golf ball” , we were told.
Again, we were confronted with the same dilemma, should he have another surgery at 93, he again told us that he didn’t have any pain and “felt good”. Fortunately, he underwent a simple ablation of the tumor, his enzymes returned to baseline. Success, however the doctors did tell us that not all of the tumor could be ablated.
The turning point for Dad was about 2 weeks ago when he began to have trouble eating. He told me then that he was dying. The frankness startled me and I actually thought he was being a little dramatic. However, the following few days, he would not eat, no desire he kept telling us. As a family member, I got a little frustrated thinking that all he has to do is eat something. However, not until doing some reading about the dying process, did I fully understand what was happening. All of this was normal, I would soon come to realize. When the body is dying, the person obviously knows it.
The downward spiral from an active, strong man to weakness and the inability to function has amazed me. Just last weekend, he came to dinner, walking on his own, sitting at the dinner table with us, but not eating. He had some soup earlier in the day. He had been napping more than usual. His withdrawn mood seemed to get worse because he couldn’t really hear any of our conversations. This always seemed to frustrate him. Especially for a man that has always been so social.
That was Saturday, last week. Over the past week, he has gone from being able to sit up on the side of the bed to completely bed bound since yesterday. He got up last about 2 days ago to sit outside in a wheelchair with the help of my sister and brother. This morning, he is barely responsive, but still able to mutter a few words. His cheeks were always so full and now they are hallow. His breathing is rapid and labored now. He assured me the day before that he had no pain. I am consoled by this fact.
He is cold, then warm, but he still enjoys the ice chips and cool cloth to his forehead. He is getting some medication now for restlessness at night. As I held his hand this morning, I could tell that he knew I was there. I tell him I love him and I’m hopeful he still hears me. It seems like the touch of simply holding his hands is more important than anything I can tell him now.
Thank you for your generosity in sharing this Al. My father is 88, and I suspect it will not be long before he is going through what your father is going through now. It helps me to see what you are going through, and learn from your experience. It will not be as scary for me if and when that time comes because of what you have shared. Thank you for that, we will continue to keep your Dad, you, and your family in our prayers.
Your friend,
~Dan
Thanks , Dan. I went to see ‘opa’ tonight with my wife and two sons. He awoke just enough to give us a smile when we arrived. However, even the simple task of just opening the eyes and trying to converse takes everything out of him and he is promptly back to sleep. All I can say is spend those precious times with your father while you can. We are truly blessed to still have our fathers at this stage in our lives. I’ve prepared myself mentally. I knew the day would come and all things do truly come to an end.
My father died 7 years ago at home. All the family stood by the bedside. My sister, my brother, my mother. It`s good to know the family stands closely together. Friedbert in Germany