When I went to check in on my dad this evening, I was so pleased to see that they had gotten the catheter in! Yeah! It was their 4th attempt, this time with a pediatric end. I bless them for trying again. I know it's not easy with my dad yelling and screaming at them. But hooray! This will make it easier to keep him clean, keep track of urinary output, and minimize the times when we make him hurt so bad.
It's a go for tomorrow. His room is all ready with a hospital bed and table. All the other supplies will be accompanied by the hospice nurse when she comes in the afternoon.
My dad is not on the oxygen anymore, but he is receiving breathing treatments every 6 hours. He's got an air filled topper to his mattress that changes the pressure areas every few minutes, so hopefully, that will help to keep his skin intact. Morphine is given every 6 hours, and more right before he is cleaned up. I hate Morphine. That look on his face tonight looked just like my mom's right before she died. He's looking off into outer space. Even when I put my face right in front of him and talked, there was no change in his expression. It's sad. I wrapped my arms around that bald head of his and told him that I loved him. He said, "I know you do." I'm glad about that.
I don't know how long my dad will be with us. That includes both at my house or elsewhere, or even on this earth of ours. But I am very grateful that I have been able to help him through this time. I have always wanted my dad to be proud of me. He always showed that to me when I was a child, teen, and adult. I know he would be proud of me now. Although he would hate that he is like he is and staying with me. But for now, I can't have it any other way.
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