A Guest Post...sort of.

This week I have been dealing with some personal issues, so writing has been a little hard to do. As I write this, I am sitting in the hospital with a family member (what did we do before wifi) and waiting on the results of the latest blood work. It's stressful. You come in with one problem and pick up another one. Such is the way of healthcare.

So while my brain is a little fuzzy, my eyes tired and my patience thin, I'd like to post something from a fellow blogger whose work is always so right on the mark. You should read him. Often.

His blog is "As Long As I'm Singing," his name is t and below is a post from the other day which is just brilliant in what it says, how he says it and the message it delivers. Another child has died because of bullying. How much more senseless can a death be?  Please read it, visit his blog and leave a comment.

Rest In Peace

My youngest son, the heel-hoofing beautiful boy I recently “spoke” to my dad about, has a particular way of kissing me good night.

First he kisses my lips. Then my right ear. Then my left. And then my lips once more – presumably for good measure.

He kisses me good night in this fashion precisely each and every day, and last night was no exception.

Last night, however, I became painfully aware that while my 12 year old boy was kissing me good night, another father could very well have been kissing his 12 year old boy goodbye for the last time.

My heart goes out to the parents, family and friends of Bailey O’Neill. I can not fathom the pain they must be feeling at this time, and I pray for their shared peace.

People, this shit has simply got to stop already. We have got to come to grips with the fact that we are not a nation of gun-totin’ John Wayne macho men walking off into the sunset – we are a nation of people. Living, breathing, loving – and sometimes hurting – people. None of us is any better than the rest, by mere incidence of physical appearance, skin color, sexual orientation, religious practice or social position.  God damn us for thinking anything otherwise.

A 12 year old boy died yesterday because we as a people not only allow bullying to occur, but have almost put the practice onto a pedestal of sorts, praising the “tough guy” while belittling the peace maker.

My son, my children, are no strangers to bullying. They have each learned to cope in their own fashion, with a sin that is upon us all. They have each learned to deal with this barbaric rite – a rite that no one should ever have live with, let alone die from.

Bailey, I am sorry that we allowed this to happen to you. I am so sorry.

People, this shit has simply got to stop already. Let’s get to work.

http://aslongasimsinging.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/rest-in-peace/

My Dad's Journey: Six Weeks In

It seems, the while the bubble has not yet burst, it has developed a slow leak.

The past two weeks have been fair to good in my father's world. His therapy has been going well, his appetite has been enhanced through pharmacology and his motor skills had been improving. Until tonight.

My mother visited in the afternoon and things were good. By the time I arrived to spend dinnertime with him, things had gone decidedly downhill. Asleep when I arrived, he awoke with impaired speech and very little energy. After his vitals were taken the reason for his condition became clearer. His blood pressure had dropped to 91/55.  For a man who has battled hypertension the last 25 years, this change is extremely alarming.

Getting him to eat dinner was not as hard as I thought it would be, but it amazes me how his taste preferences have changed since he became a nursing home resident. Water, for example, was always drunk at room temperature. Once he became a patient, water needed to be cold...now cold drinks are on the shit list again.  Ice cream however, remains a perennial favorite. We try to bring him foods we think he would enjoy, to supplement the one-step-above-crap food he is served daily. At this point anything he eats is ok with us. He once weighed around 175, yesterday his weight was 108.  A UTI and thrush are the latest assaults on his tired body. Everyday, it seems there is another danger lurking.

While I haven't had another exceptional visit like the one I had when he was in the hospital, (Enjoying The Evening Light With My Dad) before being transferred to the nursing home, there have been many good visits. There have also been some very bad ones. Tonight was somewhere in the middle.

It was a rainy day today, kinda the way I felt inside.

Love you Pops.

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Enjoying The Evening Light With My Dad

Today was a good day.

The visit with my father in the hospital yesterday was disheartening because he was sleeping throughout my time with him. He had been sedated after becoming agitated when they put the giant mittens on his hands; the result of his trying to pull out the catheter. Cause and effect.

When I last saw him awake on Friday, he was barely coherent, could not hold a cup in his hands and was scared. Today when I walked in, he was close to what he was a week ago, before this nightmare had begun. He smiled and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He was sitting in the chair, still with the mittens but able to verbalize how unhappy he was about it. In my family, if you can bitch about something...you must be ok.

He began to talk about things he told my brother earlier in the afternoon. About the softball team he played with, probably from the early 1960s. He knew all the guys names. Knew plays which occurred fifty years ago.  Dad, what did you have with your eggs this morning? I don't know..who fed me this morning. But that's ok.

As I fed him his pureed dinner he looked at me and said "It takes real guts to eat this shit." Indeed it does. 

We talked about his beloved St. Louis Cardinals, who pitched the night before, who would pitch tonight. Sports talk will be the last thing to leave his mind. His love for his family is evenly matched by his passion for his "birds."

I don't know how many more days I will have with him, but then tomorrow is promised to no one. I do know that as the last of the day's sun came through the hospital window, it was just him and me. It was a precious moment, a gift to be tucked away and remembered for eternity.

Love you Pops.

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