Ever have a day when everything changes, but nothing does, really?
It was cold when I drove K to the train at 6:30 this morning and still cold when I headed up to Salem an hour later. A desperate call. Abandoned coffee.
Two nurses showed up. First, the usual business of taking vitals and checking in. They know my sister. They know me.
But then, for the third time in five weeks the question arose: should my sister go to the hospital?
She didn’t feel well, was sleepy and lethargic. Breathing labored. Wanted to know if I was wearing a tuxedo.
The talk went ’round. Her leg would need antibiotics and if she stayed home, she would need more care. A lot more care. Time to switch to hospice.
She said ‘no’ to the hospital. She signed the pink form: Do not resuscitate. Do not intubate. No C-pap or IV nutrition. No admission to a hospital. No dialysis.
Now my sister was chatty and engaged, her relief palpable. The change in her attitude made me think she’d made the right decision and perhaps that it was overdue.
Later, yet another capable nurse arrived to explain how the new care plan would work. I ran to Stop and Shop for drugs and lunch.
I drove home in silence.
Most likely I’ll tag this post ‘private’ in the near future, but it helps to put it down and to share briefly.