Visitors and Rest

Shirley and Pat

My dad has been resting a lot since he arrived at the Munson Hospice House. He has also had several visitors. Doug and Mary came to visit last Wednesday, on the 25th. I took my dad to an appointment at the neurologist that day, after they visited. Although the nurse helped me transfer him into the car from the Hospice House, I had to transfer him out of my car and then back into it at the doctor's office. That was horrendously difficult this time; he isn't able to support himself at all anymore, I think. Wednesday was probably the last time I'll try to move him on my own.

Marilyn and Pat

Thursday, he had four friends visit: Pat, Shirley, (another) Pat, and Marilyn. They're old friends of my father's from his neighborhood and from college, and I know my dad was thrilled to see them. They brought some photos to show my dad, especially some where my dad looked very much like my brother. On Thursday night, I think, or perhaps it was Friday night, my dad's friend from work, Phil, came to visit. He stayed for a nice long visit, and he also provided some really kind-hearted, useful advice. Thanks to all of you for coming up in the snow to visit!

Phil

There has been a pretty noticeable physical change since my dad moved to the Munson Hospice House. Although his sleep has ebbed and flowed over the course of these past several months, he has definitely been sleeping more. More noticeably, though, has been his change in appetite. He was still eating pretty hearty meals before moving to hospice, but now he just takes a little bit of soup. He hasn't been drinking much, either, though he still likes to chew on some ice cubes. He's still taking pretty much the same medication he was taking before, except that he isn't taking the blood thinners anymore and he IS taking some pain medication. The day he arrived, he began using a catheter, and he complained of some pain associated with that. (He hadn't really been complaining of pain until this point.) My father also has experienced some decreased responsiveness; he doesn't seem to try to talk anymore, and I haven't really seem him smile or laugh in a while, either.

The volunteers and nurses and aids are really nice. The daughter of one of the volunteers came to say hi and cheer my dad up, and another volunteer brought in a beautiful British Golden Retriever for some pet (no pun intended) therapy. My mom is still there with him pretty much all of the time, and I've gone to see him almost every day. I've been reading some John Shelby Spong to him, which I know he loves. He has at least been staying awake for it, and reading has at least been therapeutic for me.