I wonder what goes through an architects mind when they design a hospital complex. Do they really think it's a healing site for a sick person to look out their hospital room window and see nothing but concrete, construction, and cars? I realize their probably isn't much they could do seeing as this is a downtown area and there are about three hospitals within a stone's thow, but would it kill them to throw in a bit of scenery. My dad just asked me, "what are we looking at today?" I would have loved to have told him a small pond welcoming home the geese from their winter furlow, or a park boasting a playground filled with children enjoying the breezy Spring day. No, instead, I listed off a variety concrete structures.
You might be wondering what happened between my last post and this one that would find me sitting in my dad's hospital room watching him dose off and on. Well, yesterday was a pretty crappy day for him. I'd tell you his words exactly, but then I would have to sensor them. He went in for some fluids and to drain the fluid out of his abdomen. What should have been a two to three hours at the doctor's turned into an entire day event, and he didn't even get his fluids. Driving home with my dad and my sister, I could tell he wasn't feeling well. For the most part, he slept it off. This morning, Sherry called to tell me that they had admitted him to the hospital for extreme dehydration. So here I am, just sitting with my dad.
This is certainly not a good sign, but I can't say it's a bad one either. The hard truth is that I just don't know. But really who does? Do any of us know when the end will come for anyone? True as that is, I think it's more difficult when you can see it coming and can't do a darn thing to stop it. I feel entirely helpless, but not lacking in hope. My dad won't beat this cancer, but there is hope that he will die in peace, and maybe there is a way that God can use to me to make him more comfortable.
I'm pretty sure I'm not coming home this weekend and at this point, I'm planning on being here through next week. I continue to covet your prayers; for my dad, for myself, for Neil and the kids, for grace, peace, and strength.
Quick Side Note: Please don't be afraid to call or email. I enjoy the distraction. If I can't talk right then, it's still nice to see the missed call or voicemail. However, if you want to know what's going on with my dad, please just read the blog. It keeps me from having to tell the same story over and over again, plus I might be with him and can't really talk about him. And please, no texts. I get charged for each one...you know me, I'd rather talk than attempt to spell things out in my phone. It takes too long.
I'm Not A Stalker, Just A Fan
2 years ago