I saw a commercial today that made me cry like I haven't cried since "reach out and touch someone." A woman puts a sandwich in front of her elderly father, and someone places one before her. She puts his jacket around his shoulders, and someone offscreen wraps her in hers. She places a blanket on his lap, and a blanket is spread for her. "Wouldn't it be nice if there were caregivers for the caregivers?" the commercial asks.
This weekend, my parents are being the caregivers for this caregiver, and it is such a blessing. Dr. Bloom is away -- he says "conference," I say "gallivanting." A BIG THING is happening at work this week, and I'm panicky. Miss I has pneumonia and wantneeds me and hates me and screams a lot of the time. And I am having to advocate for a loved one's right to die.
As you know, our loved one spelled it all out, in long conversations and legal documents. Even so, we've been repeatedly told that those documents do not come into effect until the situation is terminal, and right now her kidneys are only kind of failing, liver only just started failing and hey, it might reverse, she's just barely breathing above the ventilator, and the feeding tube is sustaining her as the pressors maintain her blood pressure. Family members aren't ready. Beware: Someday no one will be allowed to be terminal. She hasn't opened her eyes since early October.
She made me promise not to let this happen.
My parents are making sure I don't have to do it alone.