Clearer by Day

Last night after the call from Gregory's private nurse about his continued coughing and possible aspiration, I reaffirmed my decision of "No Heroics," if he is dying just hold his hand. Both Gregory and I had talked about this previously and often.

But afterwards I was left alone in the condo with my sorrow, my fears, my wondering what the future would bring. Usually I am able to keep those emotions under control and allow them to surface for brief periods of time. But last night I lost sleep and until the light of day shed a new look at life, I slept little.

Visiting Gregory today was up-lifting. He was still coughing and sounded sinusy but he was in a good mood, was not uncomfortable, laughed a lot, and sang along with me to "When You're Smiling."

When the Hospice nurse came in I introduced her to Gregory as a special nurse to make sure he stayed healthy. He was so communicative and correctly answered "Yes" to all the questions I posed to him like, "Are you feeling OK?" "Are you happy." "Is your chest feeling better?" Then I switched, not knowing where we would go, and said, "Are you feeling terrible?" And after four or five "Yeses" he correctly answered, "No." Both the nurse and I were pleased and amazed!

The Hospice nurse was wonderful, examined Gregory, and finished up the paperwork. She believes, for what it is worth, that Gregory does not have Alzheimer's but rather the form of dementia called Fontal Lobal Dementia. It presents itself differently than Alzheimer's and while in some ways it is all the same in the long run, I had myself often though the same. It felt good to be validated in my thinking.

So I feel empowered knowing that for now Hospice is in place in case Gregory's aspiration turns to Pneumonia, that they will be ready to help keep him comfortable whether he decides to stay with us or to leave us behind, that minimally he will have an additional nurse to look after him, and by the "Light of Day," I am feeling relieved and better.