We're back down to just the three of us - Dad, Dave and me. Libbie left in the late morning after being a cleaning tornado. I had hoped to get a last walk in with her, but the morning routine with Dad takes quite a long time - he cannot be rushed - so it was time for her to go as Dad was finishing his breakfast.
Dad's night was not bad, though he didn't really settle down until after 11, and he was up at 6:30, wanting his pain meds. Lib gave him some, then he went back to sleep until about 8.
He was very slow and confused today, though I am searching for a better word than confused. He mixed up words, and seemed very tired. He slept for 4 hours this afternoon, then could not get a grip on what day it was or what time it was. He ate very little today, though he is still asking for his malts and he drinks a fair amount of water. He had no interest in the football games.
His left leg, the one full of clots, is looking very swollen, much more than usual, as is his foot. He seems weak, and could barely get a glass of water to his lips to wash down his evening pills. I HATE CANCER. It is heartbreaking to see this 86-yr old Marine struggle so hard to stand up, turn around, search for the chair arms he can't see and have his hands shake as he tries to sip some water. He has been extremely polite and apologetic for his weakness. This is not how anyone should have to spend their last days.
This post makes me teary. I just wanted to add, though, that when I walked in with Coleman today, Gramps right away said, "Well hello Coley" (his nickname for Coleman). Molly
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