Since the last entry, alot has happened, yet not much has changed. Darrel
has been put on some different medications, and the base dosages of his
morphine have slowly and steadily been increasing. His blood seems to be
clotting better on his surface scratches, but other signs indicate the internal
bleeding is continuing. He does ask for food more often, but is not able to
eat much when he gets it, or unable to keep it down. Though these things are
to be expected, that doesn't make it any easier to observe.
Yesterday, it was decided to finally set him up with a pain pump. He was
regularly needing several extra injections of morphine, and it was felt a
continuous infusion would be easier and better for all concerned. As he now
spends all of his time in bed or on the couch, being attached to the device
really isn't going to hinder his mobility. Since any other movements are
courtesy of "Daddy Air Lift", the pump shouldn't pose any problems. Although
it is rather small and compact, it would have proved to be a much greater
annoyance had Darrel been hooked up to his "dance partner" ( as his doctor
often calls it) at an earlier time.
Another unhappy, yet necesssary development was the completion and delivery
of the urn which will soon hold Darrel's remains. It is a beautiful wooden
piece which was hand made by family friends. They spent almost all their spare
time rushing to finish it, as things were not looking very promising last week.
There is some peace of mind knowing that task is dealt with, yet what it
represents, and the fact it is sitting in the bedroom closet can be most
unsettling at the same time. Much like all the preparations for the funeral,
the surreal and numbing emotions can be quite overwhelming when Darrel is there
in the next room.
Darrel continues surprise us when we least expect it. He had been laying
on the couch watching TV when we heard some commotion across the road. Rebecca
and I got up to see what was going on, which turned out to be a neighbour doing
some renovations. Just as I was about to leave the window, I felt someone
beside me...it was Darrel! We had gotten himself up, and over to the window
without us knowing he was even on the move. There are countless examples of
how he is very much strong willed and independent minded when his pain is at a
manageable level. Even when he is getting a morphine injection, he'll tell me
he can push it through himself...I just have to tell him when the proper time
interval has elapsed. Whether this is independence, or fear of me touching his
central line (he has seen how I have a knack for being all thumbs with house
repairs), I'm not sure, but the look he gives me would point more to the
latter possibility, though he would never say it out loud.
With all the medications he is on, Darrel spends almost all day resting,
but never accuse him of sleeping, because that appparently never happens
according to him. Family and friends are slowly realizing that any
opportunity to say good bye is becoming less remote, so there have been more
visitors lately. While it is nice to see them, why it has taken some of them
this long to make an appearance is a mystery. We have known since mid April
(when all chemo treatments were stopped) that he would not be be getting any
better, yet the absence of a visit or a simple phone call throughout the months
since then is puzzling to say the least. I would hope I would have been more
front and centre if the situations were reversed, but I certainly wouldn't want
to have to test that assumption out.
We continue to do what we can to keep Darrel as happy and comfortable as we
can. If he has questions, they are truthfully answered as best as we are
able. The subject isn't really brought up otherwise with Darrel or the girls.
Whether anyone of us really knows what to expect, and/or the lasting effect
this will have is up in the air. The family will somehow get by, because it
HAS to. With the way he has handled all that he has been through, to do any
less would be an insult to Darrel. That must not be allowed to