I am hanging out at Mom and Dad's this afternoon. Mom's (hopefully) sneaking in a nap downstairs and Dad and I are upstairs. Right now he is dozing in the recliner beside me. I try to take in these moments, just hanging out, knowing that they won't be here always. Mom said that it was a bad night. He is so restless and miserable. He seems to be a little more agreeable to medication, and I don't know if that's to humor us, or if he really wants them, but I suspect he's just doing it for us. Either way, I think that the meds do help a little bit. He changes positions frequently. Just can't get comfortable. Noises really bother him, whether it's the birds outside, or the TV, traffic noise, or conversation. Talking is so much harder for him. It's like he just doesn't have the air to push out sounds. He gave up the western shirts a few days ago, but is still sportin' his v neck white tshirt, wranglers and belt. :) Operation Sweatpants failed. His fluid intake continues to be just a few ounces every day, and food intake continues to be very poor. I am honestly amazed that he has been able to tolerate the poor intake so far. He seems a little bit worse, every day, but no drastic changes. He still gets up out of the recliner and is able to get to the bathroom, but it really takes his breath away and tires him out so badly.
This is the most helpless that I have ever felt, and I know that Mom, Bill and Erin feel the same way. It's so hard to not be able to help. When we know that he would move heaven and earth to help us.
The littler 3 grandkids made clay impressions of his thumbprint this weekend.
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