Not Funny – Really Not Funny Update

Friends,

I’d heard some things about my aunt’s condition but I had to go see her. That was Sunday.

“She’s doing better this week” was the word. The breathing therapist was brought in to help her breathe. I learned only today that she had a bout of pneumonia on top of the “heart problems” and all of the rest. Once the pneumonia was cleared up, she had became more lucid, but more than what?

Apparently, that was a fairly low bar to raise. On Sunday, my heart sank. I saw the woman who was once quick with the quip, keen to see another solution, engaged and engaging now fumble with a fork while working on the hospital lunch. She was easily distracted by golf on the television (golf!), unable to maintain focus or a train of thought beyond ten or fifteen seconds.

She used to do the New York Times crossword in pen, she used to count cards while playing cribbage (that’s not cheating, is it?), now this. It was heartbreaking. Nearly as bad as watching how her two surviving brothers dealt with what was unfolding.

My uncle’s a mess. He witnessed her difficulties with lunch and simply had to excuse himself. Everyone else in the room offered help which she curtly refused. My dad though, is trying to remain a rock, naturally. It was apparent that he wasn’t dealing very well either, he just wasn’t showing it. Much.

She hasn’t much time left until the cancer overwhelms her basic functioning and there’ll be nothing the breathing therapist can do. They moved her to a facility today that I’ve seen online variously called a hospital, convalescent home, and finally, a hospice.

My aunt showed me how to be an adult, helped me when I was down, and encouraged me to follow my passions (whatever they might have been at any given time was okay with her, just pursue them). Now that she would need our help, we have none to give. Nothing but a hand to hold.

Your pal,

bob

There’s still a sly glimmer hiding underneath the incapacity. Dark as it may be. When I left her room at the hospital on Sunday I gave her a hug and let her know that I hoped the doctors could help her at least “feel better.” Her response, whispered in my ear; “Yeah, right.”