Daddy slept pretty well and woke up in an ok place – I got him to try some of the low-acid coffee I had purchased at Trader Joes and he seemed to like it. He even ate an egg and toast. My biggest plan was to try to get his weight up by any foods he would like best. He ate chicken I made, although he wouldn’t go for the full California-style tacos I had prepared. I wish I could get him to try outside of his comfort zone a bit more, I know he is a “meat and potatoes” kinda guy, but almost every time I have gotten him to try something new he has liked it. Oh well, these things take time. Both he and my mom are very resistant to change.
Today began the round of tests that would truly give us an idea of just how far this cancer had advanced in my father’s body. This afternoon was the Pulmonary Functions Study. I wasn’t even sure he needed it, just sounded like he was going to be blowing into some tubes – what does this have to really do with anything? He was very tired and went right to bed after breakfast for a nap and I wondered if it wasn’t just better to have him stay in bed and rest rather than go through the effort of getting to an office and going through what was supposed to be an hour-long test.
I decided to text my sister-in-law who is a palliative care specialist for children. In short time she got back to me and explained perhaps this test was necessary to see how strong his lungs were and how much he could take when it came to radiation or chemo. My mom and I talked it over and figured that we would wake him up around lunch time and if he had the energy, he should go.
My hours in between when daddy was sleeping were spent just sitting with my mom or running errands for her as she was too afraid to leave my dad. I ran to the grocery, to fill up cars, etc. During all of this we tried to think of what we could get dad to eat and drink when he was awake. He never was the guy to drink a lot of fluid – coffee in the AM, sweet tea for both lunch and dinner and maybe a coke or gatorade thrown in if it was a hot afternoon. I can bet I was the same way before I moved out to Los Angeles. Now, I carry a water bottle with me everywhere.
We were able to get my father up and get him to eat a sandwich with some tea and he said he thought he could make it to the test. He was being brave, you could tell he wasn’t feeling good…but he did seem to be feeling better-ish. At the very least a hell of a lot better than from when he was in the hospital already. They left me home to run some more errands and took off for the study.
When they returned dad went back to bed till dinner. So much sleeping…at least he is at home and able to sleep now, there is no better comfort than your own bed, right?
MDHC 