Spent the day crying...

Today, I called Dad and tried to have an uplifting conversation with him. His voice was low, tired and his mood, depressed. It is tormenting to listen to him tell me they don't feed him, they read his mind, they try to mess him up, they make him live in this repetitive syndrome...

For every positive I spoke, he would douse it out with negatives. He told me he didn't know how much more he could take. He said, soon he would be dead. He would rather go be with the Lord...

I called my sister and she told me she planned on visiting tonight. I told her about my conversation with Dad and sobbed to her over the phone. Like we do with one another, when one is weak, the other will be strong... She told me she would take Dad, some of his favorites, a fish sandwich from Jack n the Box, a large strawberry shake, a zucchini/walnut muffin, a Butterfinger candy bar and a fresh juicy orange. We both felt hopeful and uplifted.

Later she called and told me Dad took three bites of the fish sandwich and told her it "tasted funny", he drained the shake, woofed the muffin, ate one quarter of the orange (skin included)then spit it out, telling her it "tasted bitter". (Well, YEAH!! ) He looked at the Butterfinger she gave him, like it was a meteorite that just fell from outer space. He took one bite and spit it out too.

Dad may have a metallic taste in his mouth as a side effect from one or more of his meds...or his quirky, obsessive, persnickety, compulsive personality is fighting against him. Maybe it is the paranoia of his disease...regardless, our hopefulness was quickly dashed.

Dad's doctor called with results of his blood and urine tests. His PSA is 24 (100 indicates serious problems) and his urine was clear. He told me they were giving him Megace, an appetite enhancer and Lasix to rid of extra fluids. Dad has congestive heart failure. Normal is 50-60% and his heart is pumping at 30%...half of normal. Because his heart is half efficient, if he drinks too much water, his heart cannot pump sufficient blood to the kidneys to dispose of the liquid. He must drink enough water to stay hydrated, but not too much, because then his heart would be like a dam with too much water in it. His heart would be overwhelmed by the burden of the need to do more work than his heart could provide. That is why it is so important for Dad to wear his compression stockings, to help prevent welling of collection of fluids.

All this time, I thought Dad had irregular heartbeat and rapid heart rate. The doctor told me kidney and liver failure occur at 10-15%...

I spent the day crying... Ironically a monsoon of rain poured from the sky, thundering on the roof like a thousand storm troopers. The winds howled outside, blowing the rain in every direction. I sat, feeling like a raw-exposed-nerve, sobbing and staring out the window watching the rain flood the streets. I felt totally helpless and realized I cannot fix this... I cannot control it...Dad is totally in the Lord's hands.