October 18th - Old Habits Die Hard

Dad is resting comfortably this morning.  I got a little moan from him on my arrival.  He still likes his shoulders rubbed.  Good job, Bill.

For four or five months now we have tried to monitor his vitals as if we were operators at a nuclear power plant. What is his B/P?  How much kidney function remains?  Where are his red cells today? What about his white cells?  Check his hemoglobin. Don't let his platelets get to low or his potassium get to high or we'll have a meltdown that will make Chernobyl look like a backyard barbecue!

Really!  Did we EVER need to worry about his heart?  Was it all a ruse?  Did we ever need to worry about his kidneys?  Dad never seemed to be very interested in the numbers.  Sometimes I even think the lymphoma is regretting the day it chose Dad, likely mistaking him as an easy mark.  Silly lymphoma.

I would say this has to be the ultimate lesson we learn from Dad, but quite frankly, I'm not sure how deep this well is anymore. We might be drinking here for some time.  Dad has a lot to teach us it seems.

For awhile now Dad's physical assets have slowly dwindled away.  Yet, each morning (although now I think it's just every time he wakes up) he inventories what is left and uses it to his best ability.  It's not "he doesn't want to quit".  It's "he cannot quit".  Someone once said, "You cannot live your life in a manner inconsistent to who you really are".  For eighty-eight years Dad has done just that -"What have I got today?" and acts accordingly.

It doesn't mean don't plan for tomorrow. Dad is a Boy Scout.  He knows "Be Prepared". But, he also knows there is no tomorrow if you don't get through today.  Just today.

It doesn't mean he won't get down. We all know first-hand how angry and frustrated he got as his "major assets" depreciated rapidly.  But as long as he sees the balance sheet has not reached zero, he keeps going.

This morning, during his morning wash and shave, he helped Vanny, the aide, by lifting his arms to get in and out of his shirts.  And, also by turning his head so she could see to shave the other side of his face.  He is still in there, even if only for brief moments, constantly checking the inventory of what's left.

It's kinda funny in a way. For the last few mornings I wake up wondering, "Is today going to be the day?"  I'm sure he wakes up wondering, "Will tomorrow be the day?  'Cause it looks like I got everything I need for today".  Old habits die hard.