I was going to call you in Fargo at 7:11am (the time of your birthday) but I decided that since you have a cold and you're not feeling great, I'd send you an email and post it on the blog. So happy **th birthday. Since you're one of a kind, here is a rare orchid for you.
I went to the hospice this morning on my way to work because mom said that when she went yesterday, dad was not like himself. he hardly got out of bed and did not engage in much conversation (not that he does a lot now anyway). I checked in at the nurses desk and Margaret said that he had quite a bit of pain last night so they had to give him pain meds two or three times and he was asking for a cool gel pack. They asked me if it works and I said that I told him a couple of years ago after a round of radiation treatment that he should use it when his face is hurting so since that time, he uses it whenever he has pain. I don't know if it works but he seems to think that if I say it works, it probably works. When he gets the pain, to me it's visible because the whole area gets very red as if it has a fever so the gel pack at least cools the skin down a bit.
Margaret also said that there was some bleeding and one spot was kind of squirting. So she was going to wait for another nurse to assist with the dressing change in the event that the tumour started to bleed again. They said that he's been very quiet for the last few days and I told them that he told Uncle Deo that it's time to go. They said that he seems to be at peace with his life.
I went into the room and he was sleeping so I woke him and kissed him. He looked a bit groggy at first. He looked extremely tired and very fragile. I asked if he had breakfast and he said he did not have his dhall and roti. I went to get a bowl, spoon, glasses and a cup of coffee from the dining room and came back and heated his breakfast. He ate while I made his bed and after I was done, he asked how my focus group went last week so we talked about that for a few minutes. He said that he was very proud of me and that he knows that I will do great things for the people who I am writing about for my research. He asked if I was done reviewing my 300 and something pages and I said that it was all done and I am now transcribing the focus group notes from the digital recorder. I told him that I put out a plea for help on the blog but no one offered so I am left to transcribe at the rate of 10 minutes to each minute of recording (okay so that was a slight exaggeration but only slight....).
Typing is one thing which I really do not like to do - or more specifically - transcribing from audio to text. It is painfully slow but I have 40 of the 90 minutes done and it only took me many hours! And to think I still have another focus group to do next week. Yikes! Anyway, we talked about the discussion so far and he said that what I have to say will be important for vocational teachers. I told him that it is very ironic that as a blue collar tradesperson, I was saying the same things but I had to cross over the social boundaries to white collar work before anyone would listen. That's a huge problem for which I am writing.
After our discussion, I took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wheeled him back to the bed. I tried something a bit different today and it worked very well. When he tries to get into the bed, the handle is in the way and he can never get far enough in the bed to be comfortable so he has to try pushing himself up towards the head of the bed. Today I lowered the handle and he sat in the bend of the bed just where he needs to be to be lying in a comfortable position without any adjustments. Then when he was settled between his 4 pillows, I raised the handle and it was perfect!
I put some cream on his feet and he wanted some on the bruise he still has on his forehead and I covered his chest with is throw and said goodbye. I took the breakfast dishes back to the dining room and left to go to work. Ammm... did I mention that when he went to the bathroom, he brushed his teeth and had to splash on his after shave? Yes he did. It's funny how the sense of smell can be so powerful. I think whenever I smell Old Spice or Mennen, I think of dad. Any of you seen that Old Spice commercial with Isaiah Mustafa? He probably got the idea from Dad. haha...... I bet Dad could teach him a thing or two....