again and again and again and again. again and again, again and again
Monday April 01st 2019, 11:12 pm
Filed under: family,fear,HelLA,himself Tags:

Less The Bird and the Bee, more father in the hospital. Again and again. “They threw a reception for me when I got here,” he said today, “and that’s the only time I saw that one doctor, who, it turns out, is parters with this other doctor from Missouri, who knows so-and-so.” And this is with the oxygen. At least it’s sometimes cheerful where he is, wherever the fuck that is, and he can network and play a political angle on his Alzheimer’s-ridden fantasies.

So now, oxygen. A return to wheelchairs not walkers. He couldn’t remember that he had oxygen, that it was in his nose, not his ear. Why it was there. He’s got my birthday. He’s got the grudge that he hasn’t seen YCT in quite some time. He forgot 8 hours of my sister on Saturday from 3-11am, but he remembered that I graced him with my presence for a few hours that same day (well trained, that). He knows he’s a player, but he doesn’t know what he’s playing. And the pieces won’t stay on the board. And he’s so very, very, very afraid of dying.

I dunno. “Haven’t seen him in weeks” has been the joke for so long re: ending it all. But helping him into bed, being forced to touch his old man’s body (and those feet. My god. Those feet. Blood clots, apparently, plus diabetes, and maybe losing a few toes. Those feet. You could lose your soul getting too near those feet.) All of his weaknesses. And all of that terrible strength so long ago. Only a few years, now, until small is the age I was when he was when it was. It’s unimaginable, but even more horrifyingly, I don’t need to imagine it – I can just picture it. I will never. But I will never not know. And I can’t protect him from knowing someone who knows, even if (and i fucking believe it, absolutely) that he’ll never know.