Life Support

No joke.

Mom called this morning bragging on how much better dad was doing. He had been cleaned up and was well taken care of. He was sitting up, talking, seemed to have a little more energy. His kidney's even showed some improvement and he was urinating on his own now (no need for dialysis or catheter)

That was yesterday

Mom just called a few minutes ago. When she came in this morning, dad was in a strange room hooked up to a strange machine. Turns out Dad's on "life support". Now, I'm not sure if that's what my mom was told or if that's the terminology my mom is choosing to use. Regardless, a machine is breathing for dad. He can't breath on his own anymore. The nurses couldn't wake my dad this morning and must have noticed something wrong with his breathing

I'm not sure about the details of my dads situation. Mom is supposed to call back as soon as she's spoken with a doctor.

~

So many different feelings right now. Fear of the worst, obviously. Frustration - frustration that dad's prognosis seems to have some bi-polar disorder... fantastic one day, terrible the next.

Hmm... kinda just speechless really. Feels like someone has taken my breath away.

I'm afraid to prepare myself for the worst because I feel like that would mean I'm not "keepin' the faith". But I don't want to get blindsided by it.

Blast - I can't even write it! Because I'm so afraid of it. It. I don't want to spell/speak it into existence.

If I haven't said this yet - I really miss dad. Like really badly. Here's the dad I miss... I haven't heard him laugh like this in (what feels like, and what probably is) years. I took video of when I treated my parents to a trip to the Dominican Republic when I was young, single and overpaid. That purchase turned out to be one I'd never regret...