Oy. Something else we may be waiting on.
We got word last night that my father in law had an onset of numbness in his right side, hearing loss and extreme confusion. He's ninety, and ninety in every sense of the word.
He's also a retired doctor, and in a fit of "heal thyself" peppered with finality, he called my brother in law to say that he was probably having a stroke and that there was no use in going to the hospital. "No," says Doc, "and I don't want the squad - we'll just let this play itself out."
This lead to some confabs between the siblings and it was decided that there wasn't much that could be done for someone who lived a full life and wanted nothing to be done.
So the husband called the parents (who live 400 miles away) and spoke with his father, who is certain that it wasn't much more than a TIA, and that he was on a winning streak with his free cell game on the computer of ten straight games. But that stroke? "I figured that it would be a peaceful end," dad said.
The husband was a bit confused by the whole shebang, and he felt pretty helpless. I mean we are taught from children - something goes wrong and you call the ambulance. Right?
As I learned from my mother's illness, when they make up their minds. They are made up. When we make up our minds, they'll be made up, too.
While I love them, they aren't my parents - I'm an orphan by definition even though I'm approaching 50. So I have to support them - it's their body, their life. And I don't think that Doc is being foolish. What's the point of a very long life to want an end with doctors sticking drainage tubes and needles in your arm. Mom was no heroic measures, and I want the same thing for me.
Still, for someone who has never tread this path, husband needs to sort this all out. I need to be by his side, which I do with a glad heart.