He returned to the nursing home with orders for therapy, but I almost didn't pick him up. I was actually surprised he hadn't returned under hospice cares (in which case he would not legally qualify for therapy services).
On this particular day, he was laying down with the head of his bed raised up quite a ways. Makes it easier for him to breathe past all the fluid in his lungs.
He didn't respond to me, except to either work with me as I exercise his legs, or push against my efforts to bend his knees. Otherwise, he sleept through the session, occasionally reaching his arms out to grab something that only he could see through his closed eyes.
His breathing was labored: four or five loud, rattly breaths...then nothing...then noises that sounded like silent gasping...then four or five more breaths.
I can't help but think he has to be nearing the end. And I wonder what it must feel like, to have death waiting right beside you.
Is he fighting, trying to push through his illness to gain a few more days?
Has he given up to wait silently until his moment comes?
Is he afraid? What does he think about?
Is his mind even aware of what's happening to his body?
Morbid, perhaps. But it's reality. And I can't help but wonder.
1 comment:
No, Elizabeth...I don't think its morbid. I wonder about things such as this all the time. In fact I think I think about them more than I should but for some reason my mind tends to go there and the older I get the worse it gets.
I do wonder what it is like to be in the final stages of life on this earth. I know one day I will find out and then I wont worry or fear it any more. Although I dont fear death itself (because I know I will be in a better place) I do fear what happens right before. Thanks for putting your questions down, now I dont feel like I am the only one who wonders at times.
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