Last Hope

It's funny how my intuition always lets me know before I pick up a ringing phone that the call is not going to be a lighthearted one.  The news today was rather somber and not news that I had really wanted to hear, but have been expecting for a while now.  My father, who suffers from Alzheimer's, has reached one of the very last stages of the disease.  He has forgotten how to swallow, or is incapable of it.  For several months his meals have consisted of pureed or gelled meals to prevent him from aspirating his food.  Over the last couple of weeks, he has had trouble eating even these kinds of meals.  At first it was thought by the physician that perhaps it was because he just wasn't feeling well due to a recent infection.  I have to say that I didn't buy into that theory, but didn't want to voice my thoughts to my stepmother and sister. 

While visiting my father on Christmas Eve, I knew that this would be the last Christmas with him.  He has no idea who I am now, even though a few weeks ago he was well aware that I was someone he knew.  I don't believe that he knows who anyone is, even his wife.  There is no glimmer of recognition in his eyes, no  admonishing looks when I say something inappropriate (as I usually do), no hugs or kisses or interaction of any kind.  He sat with me on Christmas Eve and again Christmas Day and just stared at the floor. In order to get a photo with him, I had to cup his head in my hand to get him to look at me. This broke my heart a bit, because I know that if he knew that this is how he'd ended up, it would break his own heart.

Apparently, there is some kind of stimulating medication that can be administered to try to get his throat muscles to work a bit.  There is also a sub-hydration injection that he can be given to keep his hydration levels up. I don't hold much stock in either of these options. Since Alzheimer's doesn't work in reverse, he is not going to remember how to swallow and sub-hydration will only keep him hydrated, it won't give him any of the sustenance that his body would need to live.  I understood the meaning behind his wife's words when she said that nursing homes don't do feeding tubes for patients, but they would make him as comfortable as they could. Then again, I have spent the past year preparing myself for these words, so it didn't come as a shock.

After relaying the status of our father's condition to my sister, she said I didn't sound very hopeful.  At least I could answer honestly when I said that yes, I did indeed hold out hope.  I just didn't bother to tell her that I hold a different kind of hope than she does, because she may think it callous of me.  You see, my hope is that this disease quickens it's pace and runs it course swiftly now.  I hope that my father leaves this world soon and surrounded by those that love him, and I hope that there is no unnecessary suffering for him.  I don't hope for this with any callousness intended, but because I feel he has suffered enough now and that letting go would be the best thing for him. 

Had my father been the type to accept the fact that he was aging. or to let age slow him down in any way, then perhaps I wouldn't feel the way I do.  My father however, was the kind of man that was always busy.  If he had no project to work on, then he would make a new one or improve on a finished one.  He was always physically active and had the sharpest mind of anyone I have ever known.  He knew a little something about everything, whether he needed to or not.  He could figure out a way to make just about anything work, and his creativity stayed with him until just before his diagnosis.  He and his wife spent their twenty years together travelling the world, and he was up for any adventure with her.  At the age of 80, he earned his black-belt in tai kwon do - not an easy feat at that age, but as far as he was concerned, age was just a number. A year before his diagnosis, I stopped by his house and found him meticulously planting trees along the edge of the property.  By meticulously, I mean that each tree was evenly spaced, every hole was the exact same depth as the others and he was taking into account the future growth of the trees.  I remember thinking that I couldn't be bothered to have to do that kind of planning for a few trees, and feeling a bit ashamed that he had much more energy for that sort of thing than I. 

My dad would be devastated and mortified to see himself now.  He would not want to be fed and bathed and confined to a wheelchair.  He would want to be able to leave this world with a little dignity, and if this continues much longer, then any little bit of dignity that there still is to his life will be gone.  I don't wish this for him, so I hope that things end sooner rather than later for him.

That's the kind of hope I hold on to, and the last good hope that I can have for the father who I have always loved with all of my heart and soul, and always will.

Honestly, yes.

Tonight I had a phone call from a very old friend whom I haven't spoken with in a few years.  Needless to say, there was a lot of catching up to do.  When she asked me if I was happy, I didn't have to stop and think about my answer.  The word "yes" came naturally to me. It's been a very long time since I could answer that question with a resounding "yes".  Longer than I can remember, actually.

It's been a challenging year to say the least, and there were a lot of times when I couldn't have answered that question in the affirmative.  However, I've finally come to the point where I've realized that I have an abundance of good things in my life. That realization didn't come quickly or easily, but it did make it's way into my head finally, and I'm better for it.

The past year, if nothing else, has shown me what I am capable of.  There were so many things that I'd never done in my life, mainly because I never had to.  Buying a home on my own; leaving someone that I spent 26 years with; learning how to maintain a house by myself; learning to be physically alone for days on end.  None of these are insurmountable things, but they were all things I never thought I would have to do.  When push came to shove, I suddenly had no choice but to begin a new life for myself.  I have always had a very determined nature, and I believe that's the one trait that allowed me to forge ahead, consequences be damned. Sometimes it's best to just start the ball rolling without thinking too much about what could go wrong.  Makes it easier to get to the goal that way. 

When I look back now at the chaos of the past year, I still don't know how I'm still in one piece.  I did reach the goal, but not without some serious consequences that I hadn't expected.  I should have had a sherpa to help carry the amount of stress that I dragged around with me.  I have no idea how I stumbled through my days, having suffered with insomnia for almost eleven straight months.  There are whole chunks of last year that I really don't even remember due to the stress and sleep deprivation.  There are 35 pounds missing from my body now (although I must confess that shopping for new clothes isn't something that I consider a hardship).  Inevitably, my fighting spirit finally broke at the end of it all, and it broke in a huge way, but it also helped to repair a lot of the damage that was done beforehand.

When I finally made peace with the fact that I didn't do this "to" my life and family, but rather "for" my life and family , the happiness started to slowly make it's way back to me.  Not all at once, not by a long shot, but slowly and steadily.  I had to learn not only what I am capable of, but also what my limits are and what I truly want from this life. I had to remember that it's better to be alone than to feel lonely when with someone. I had to lose the person I'd become over the years and get back to being the person I truly am.  And I had to learn to be content with my own company - very important when you live alone.  Only then was there finally enough room in my life to allow the happiness to reappear.

There are still challenges, and there always will be. Being alone after so many years isn't really what I expected it to be, but I'm all right with it for the most part.  Sometimes I have to stop and adjust my expectations a little and just let things happen as they should.  I have wide circle of very good friends now who help keep the boredom at bay, and they each bring something positive to my life on a daily basis.  I have a daughter who loves me unconditionally, yet doesn't hesitate to give me a reality check when needed.  I have a home that, although small, belongs solely to me and has become my haven, and I have my family who remind me of who I am and where I come from. 

So yes, I can now say that I'm happy when asked.  Honestly.