Cast Your Worries Aside

This time, Dad had gone to the hospital for inexplicable kidney problems and low oxygen levels. With test after test, the doctors had tried to figure out why things were failing. No answers so far, just lots of waiting. He’d already been in the ICU for over two weeks when I walked in to find a woman I’d never seen at his bedside. “I’m Elizabeth, with palliative care. Your dad made some changes. Can I tell you about them?”

I bit my lip and looked at my father. He seemed lucid and alert tonight, but he looked terrible. His skin was sallow and paper-thin, his hands and arms bruised from needles. I took a deep breath and nodded for Elizabeth to go on.

“He’s set a limit for ventilation and fluids and chosen to not resuscitate,” she told me.

I blinked. I’d been warned, but I wasn’t prepared.

“Do you understand?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, and then, just like that, she was gone. I turned to my dad and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he said. “I’m reading a new mystery today. Wanna hear?”

“Sure,” I said. Now wasn’t the time to push the conversation; there’d be time enough tomorrow. And so I moved my chair closer and listened to him tell me the story.