Today is another bad day. My dad looks haggard and is moving more slowly than just a couple of days ago. He did manage to come downstairs in the morning, which facilitated the consumption of the delectable pancakes my mother made for breakfast. Aside from a short stint at the tree, to receive my present to him (the wonderful and noteworthy biography of J.D. Rockefeller, Titan), he spent the bulk of the time I was there sitting in the ‘TV room’ (the small room just off the kitchen).
My mother and I took a walk around the block after eating. We’ve done this for years. As is most common these days, today our topic was my dad. Specifically his appearance and substantive decline. What was unspoken, but I know was in both our thoughts, was whether we’ve seen the high point. Have the expected palliative or retardant effects of the chemo been exhausted? Or is this just a temporary swing to the worse, to be followed by another one back to the better. Maybe we’ll know on the 7th. For now, the uncertainty is more than frustrating.
No comments:
Post a Comment