a month, maybe

I am taking off work so I can go to my parents house. Hospice is coming at some point and I know it’s bad when my aunt Linda even notices that dad has gone downhill so badly the past two or three days. When they tell you “a month, maybe”, you really think “a month”. It’s only been a week since the pulmonologist said that. It’s hard to understand how long a month is until you realize you may not have one.

I sleep, I know I do. When I wake up, though, I feel like I never went to bed. It’s like walking around in a daze 24/7. Mom said “Why is this happening to us?” Nothing I could reply to that would be helpful. I have no ideas. First Kim, then Joe and Mom…now Dad. Four out of six…the odds aren’t good are they? I am feeling a bit of paranoia to be truthful. I will probably drive the doctors crazy over the next few years.


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