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What a week or so. My father called me on a Tuesday to say that his cardiac doctor needed to see him right away at the hospital in Corvallis so I found a flight, packed a bag, and was on my way at 4:30 AM EST  the next day. With time differences and such I arrived at my Dad’s house at 9 PM PST … a long day. At my Dad’s house he said we’d needed to leave for the hospital around 3 AM to see the doctor first thing; I found a minute to sleep and then off we went.

At the hospital there was confusion as to why my Dad was there and he kept saying that his doctor asked him to come in and talk about aortic valve replacement; my father suffered from COPD and heart issues affect the breath as well, so replacing the valve would be good for his breathing. Trouble was, the cardiac team felt that his age, he’s ninety-one, and the health of his heart, not good, might make surgery too risky so they suggested medications and oxygen and then uttered to phrase …

“That’ll give you about six months.”

I hate that phrase because no one actually knows; it could be 6 days or weeks or months or even a few years and I hate the end date-ness of it all. But my Dad and I talked about the surgery and the risks and he decided to take the Go Home route. I reminded him of my mother …

In 2006 my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer; she did chemo, twice, and then radiation, and in early 2007 she said, “No more.” She had been a nurse and knew what was coming and she opted to stop treatment and just let nature take its course. Family came to visit and in early February 2007, she passed away in her home with my dad, my sister and I by her side. I felt it very peaceful.

And I told my dad that, for me, if you could pass away in your own home, with family by your side, as well as his dog, that might be the way to go; that’s what I would want for myself … the last faces I see being those of loved ones and pets and not doctors and nurses.

And he thought for a while and decided that would be his choice. They kept him in the hospital because he wasn’t allowed to be released with the oxygen and between a wicked winter ice storm and frigid temperatures, and the MLK Day holiday, he wasn’t able to get home until the following Wednesday. The next day hospice came in and made plans to be at his house three days a week to start to check on him,  his meds and such, and then, when the time comes that he cannot take care of himself we switch to full-time hospice care.

He doesn’t like that, but he also doesn’t have a choice; neither my brother nor I can be there full-time, though Carlos and I will visit often, so he’ll need to adjust, and when the time gets close, we’ll fly out as quickly as possible like we did with mom.

And Ashley, one of my nieces, has suggested she go up and stay with my Dad for a while; she's working an online job and so she can work anywhere. And as she says my Dad is her favorite relative, and he feels the same about her, it sounds like a plan. We have been speaking for the last few days and talkin g about what needs to be done, and how stubborn my Dad can be and how she needs to approach that, but I think it will work out quite nicely.

All I want is a peaceful transition for my Dad; he’s stubborn as Hell, so who knows when that will happen, but when it does I will be there with Carlos and my brother to send him off.

It’s all you can do really.

So, I’m home and thankful to be here and thankful for the people in my life, for Carlos and his support and strength and listening ear, and in the internet world, for all of your thoughts and good vibes. I am not a man who prays but a positive thought is always welcome, and for that I am greatly appreciative.