You don't need a life jacket if you're going to die anyway

 

Things that die quickly:

• Hopes
• Dreams

Things that take a little longer to die:

• Gary

And I guess that’s why hospice gave him the boot.

It’s bad enough that they discharged him, but they did it with no notice (well, not “no notice” – they gave us 20 minutes notice).  And they did it with no discharge planning.  No thought put into how he was going to get supplies, get meds, get bathed.  I was told they were referring him for home health assistance, at least for getting the weekly lab work that’s required to monitor and adjust his blood thinners.  Not surprisingly, we received no such referral so, out of desperation and with no other options, the plan became discontinuing the medication and hoping he doesn’t develop a blood clot that causes a stroke.  That’s where we are, thanks to Residential Hospice, hoping for the best after facing the worst.

Well, at least I thought that was the worst part, but I was wrong.  Gary’s hallucinations had been very well controlled for the last year or so.  With the hospice discharge, that changed nearly instantly.  I assume it’s the stress, but perhaps it’s also the fear and uncertainty (his first response was to assume I would put him in a nursing home).  The hallucinations stated immediately after his last good-bye to his beloved hospice aide (the one constant and only social outlet he’s had for over a year).  Watching his mind deteriorate quickly, I was initially outraged.  It didn’t have to be this way.  Had hospice shown even the slightest consideration for his condition, this might have been averted but instead, we are back to him waking me up in the middle of the night because he thinks our niece “hid all the beans” or that there are “mice swimming in the ketchup.”  Except for my interrupted sleep and my seething anger, the hallucinations were harmless enough.  At first.

Now, his bed is broken, and his feet injured.  While hallucinating that he was in an accident and the car was sinking quickly, he shattered the footboard after kicking it violently in a desperate attempt to kick out the windshield to stop from drowning.

He wasn’t drowning, of course but I certainly understand why he felt that way. I feel that way, too.