Today was an exhaustively long, draining, and demanding day. It felt at times like watching a "comedy of errors" movie. The pace felt frenetic at times. I'm sincerely proud of myself for having remembered and acted on a recent meditation and a technique of recognizing feelings as transitory and removed from yourself. It worked. And I needed it to work. The day started with a bit of foreshadowing. I rose on time, which was critical, given that I had a 7:45 appointment for the removal of the stitches on my face. I'dI'd run my usual routine last night, and although I managed to fill the reservoir, I overlooked the empty filter left beside the coffee maker. Yep. 10oz of hot water were waiting for me. I set that task aside, and I went ahead and initiated my real-world testing of Benadryl for Lucky. Evening walks with him a humiliating, embarrassing scenario. He is chaos incarnate. He pushes my patience to its limits. That canine seriously needs a chill pill, and I gave him one. I did some research and even talked to a vet I know about this a while back. Now I was putting it into action. I started small. 1/2 of a 25mg tab conspicuously set in plain view within his bowl of morning chow. Of course, before dishing it out, I had to get Scottie, who'd not come out yet. Jen was in the bedroom, up, but Scottie was listless, which is highly unusual when food is in the equation. I set him down. He somewhat lethargically lumbered out to the kitchen and ate. But slowly. Slower than usual. It was concerning. I told Jen about it while getting ready to head to my appointment. She'd started the coffee in the meantime, so I had some java for the drive. At one point, as I was leaving and she was on a call, I mentioned the concern again and wondered if he was feeling sick. That usually results in something existing his system, quickly, through one of two main offices. She took him on a walk, seemingly begrudgingly, so there was some tension between us when I left. That's not common at all. I got to their office early and surprisingly found nearby parking. They got me in and out in short order. All looked good. They are a well-coordinated team. I returned home and found there'd be little/no change in his demeanor. My 9 am call went well. I then offered to run to GOBM to get the necessary supplies for making dog food. Jen's got the process down. Lauren came along. We got the food Jen needed and returned with just a little time left for me to check in on work demands before driving Lauren to her job. Tommy called as we drove home and shared his upset over his mom's current condition. He was visiting, and she was "pretty cold to the touch and not able to respond to anything I'm saying." " He called, and I talked to him and then to her, and then I told him, off speakerphone, that this was something we had all observed. She's not at her best in the mornings. It'sIt's sad, tragic, but nothing he should be alarmed by. My God, this is all getting so fucking real. I had asked Jen to call the vet and check if this might be related to his recent vaccinations. My google searches indicated it was too long ago, even though it was two days ago. Issues surface within hours, not days. She was stuck in meetings and had not when I left again. Juggling this with work tasks via my phone as much as possible, I took Lauren to work. I drove out to the 1st of two ''senior living'' facilities that Kathy had found and wanted my opinion. It was bleak, dim, and surreal. The "activity room" was a complete oxymoron. The occupants were old, very, very old, and sadly looking abandoned and hopeless. A TV played some random soap opera while people started blankly into space in random directions. There was no care, here. It was simply death's waiting room. It broke my heart, and it would crush her spirit. Her accommodations would be the farther section of a shared room in which you'd have to walk around them and their bed and belongings to get to her' her' quarters''. I could go on and on and on. I drove away, called Jen, and did my best to contain my tears at the prospect of her spending her dying days in such a situation. She had previously suggested I quit my job and get paid to help her out via Kathy and her retirement funds. She was serious. Now, I was starting to think she was onto something. I then called Kathy and said I'dI'd come to SRC where she was and talk to her. I visited briefly with Linda. Her anxiety and fear are increasing. She knows she's facing something serious, and she's scared. Kathy and I ended up going to look at the 2nd location together. We agreed about it and ultimately about both options. Neither is ok. So we talked over my ideas and discussed things more, deciding that it might be best if she would remain at SRC. We met and spoke with Betty Lou, the administrator, to clarify our expected paths, plans and coordinate ideas about ensuring Linda is not a fall risk. We're seemingly at a standstill on this, but she told us she would talk with another staff member to get more input about any other concerns. (There'sThere's so much more detail and nuance to this, and to the day that I'm, I'm just setting aside so I can wrap this up.) Kathy and I also discussed earlier how the situation before us isn't about ''saving'' or ''curing'' choices at all. "Making the decision to let somebody die" isn't that, if they are dying regardless of your decision. The role you play is essentially related to what they might experience and perhaps have to endure on that certain path. We returned to Linda and told her we did not like the options we found. Kathy told her she felt it was best to stay here longer, and I said she had to not get up on her own or risk falling. She complained about people repeating that to her. It was frustrating, as she was trying to manage her rapid consumption of ice cream using a large spoon with what would equate to a full scoop on it. I don't know how to find the amount of patience helping her would require. I don't know that it's in me. I suddenly realized that I had barely time to get to Matson, grab Scottie, and head to the vet. I did just that while juggling further work needs via Slack on my phone, including some painful and frustrating dictation issues. Once I had the dog and was on my way, my CEO decided it was a good time to challenge and question my estimated LOE on a relatively simple task. I had to defend myself at stoplights or by dictation. I managed to make it work, but it was just plain insane that I was doing so. I put about 30min into my entire workday. This is not sustainable for them or me. Scottie was anxious and panicked as one might expect a dog to be at a velvet's office. Lauren walked over from her nearby work (~20min) and joined us before the vet came to check him out. He checked out fine. They gave us a 50% discount on the emergency service, which was greatly appreciated. We headed home. He enjoyed having his head out the window along the way. Once home, we tried talking to him for a walk, but he meandered and fought against doing so. We put his food bowl down, and he came to it but walked away. Jen thought they wanted to eat but was having trouble for some reason, so she sat and hand-fed him. THEN she realized he must have gotten hurt coming in a door or the open window when wearing his cone. With his plate raised, he ate happily. Linda called, and we talked a bit. I told her I'd call later, tried to but got no answer. I hope she was given Xanax. Bonnie wrote myself and Kathy expressing her concerns and feelings about her obvious decline and anxiety too. After all this, I sat down and started trying to work through the thought process to help more. Could I do it? Really? I want to say and think I could, but I also know what a massive challenge it would be. And what a rewarding experience it could be, too. Love is watching someone die. I want to find some way to do all I can without it costing me, my kids, and my marriage, my presence. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I'm going to try to focus on work as much as possible, but I may try and do so from her apartment as a trial run to see what it might entail, were I to be solo and responsible for whatever comes up.
