- mildly locked -

- mildly locked -

This has not been a good week. Dad got sent home post chemo Sun night, was in the ER Tuesday, was in the treatment center getting transfused Friday, and readmitted to the cancer hospital Friday night with a probable infection that they have yet to pin down. He has no neutrophils. I don't mean low, I mean none, zero, all gone. I think they overshot the mark by a lot on the chemo.

This makes essentially 2 weeks in the hospital and he feels worse, not better, and he told the cancer doctor to stuff it this morning. He felt horrible and he didn't have the reserve to not let his anger through when they were trying to tell him how his white count would recover and they'd treat the infection and he'd feel better next week. I mean, that was supposed to be last week, and the week before that, etc.

So he told them all he wants is to not feel awful and if that means hospice and no more chemo then make him hospice, because he's not doing any more chemo. He also changed his papers to a DNR.

I have been with him through all of this and I have seen what it has done to him and how much he is suffering and it sucks. He probably means more to me than anybody, including my mom at this point, but I can't do this to him - not that I am - but it's terrible where this has driven him.

I hugely resent that I am the one who has to calm everybody down, and tell them to stick to the facts, and just deal with what is in front of us right this minute. Go see a fucking counselor or psych pro, people. I keep having to tell my brother and sister that I will tell them if they need to drop everything and rush here, but they keep freaking out. It's not that I don't get it, but could they find someone else at whom to direct it?

And when my dad was looking like he might get very septic suddenly tonight, I tried to have an appropriate conversation with my mother, because I am the one who is staying overnight, tonight, about his DNR status, and issues that might become complicated with comfort care versus treatment, etc. and she asks me if I know the right phone number for the funeral home that's supposed to cremate my dad.

...
no carrier
...

And when she left for the night she shook my hand. Like, you know, shook my hand. Like - whatever, Ice.

And I'm not telling you any of the drama! 'Cuz, hey, what would life be without that?

The nurses and staff have been great. On top of which, when they found out I was a doctor they gave me printouts of my dad's labs, reviewed test results with me, even asked about meds. I feel like I'm intruding but they seem to think it's great. As it is, because we talked about his admission orders last night, the nurse and I kept them from giving him a standard admit med that would have been disastrous under the circumstances. One of those little flags that didn't trigger, for some reason.

My sister and niece were planning to be here tomorrow through Tuesday, anyway, and that'll be great so I can get some things that are past their deadlines done before it's a real problem. My mom has to do some stuff, too, including taking her car in on Tuesday.

And that's the week that was. Thanks for listening.