We put Uncle Jim in his bed about 30 minutes ago.
He is exhausted from the struggle to stay alive and well enough to participate in our family's life. He is in no pain, or so he says. I kind of believe him this time because there is nothing left of him to feel pain.
He knows what he wants and what is best for him. He told us exactly how to position the hospital bed so he is comfortable enough to perhaps die.
I have a sense it will be soon. Mike thinks he has a lot of strength left, emotional strength that is.
When he went to the oncologist she said there was nothing that could be done anymore because the treatments would be harder on him than the cancer. So she gave him the number of the Horizon Hospice. She told him briefly that he would have choices, whether to enter a hospice home and be cared for there, or whether to stay at home.
When he was telling Mike and I about his visit to the doctor and about needing to call the hospice people he said "I'd like to stay here if it would be alright with you" ... and then he began to cry, but only for a second.
We quickly jumped in to ease the moment, and so we would not begin to cry also. We said that we would have it no other way. Yes he would stay here.
But he is not "staying" here, he is dying here.
Those who were blessed to have Jim as part of their life are feeling the great tragedy this is.
Barbara