In which Jack brings the girls over and cooks dinner for Primo

Which I think is a really nice thing to do.

They all tell Primo he should go on vacation. He is not sure - it doesn't feel right to go on vacation right after your dad dies.

I vote with Jack and the girls - Primo needs a break and there are not rules on this.

My sister brought some crab dip mix with her when she and her husband visited last week. I had noticed a can of crab in the fridge at Sly and Doris'. I ask Primo to bring it home with him.

Is that weird?

Or just practical?

In which Sly dies

Sly has died.

Primo calls me at 7 a.m. to tell me. His dad had died an hour earlier.

We speculated about the will. (Because we are human is why. And because Primo is pretty sure that whatever happens, Ted and Jack will be unhappy and will fight him.)

"I think I should give money to each of the grandkids," Primo says. "Enough to cover their student loads."

"And then I could run another political campaign."

I swallow hard. If Primo does inherit anything, well, it is his money. I mean, it is ours, but morally, it is his.

Then Primo tells me that he wants to move the piano and the bookcase from his mom and dad's to our house.

That is, pay someone to move a bookcase and a piano a thousand miles.

I don't want more stuff in my house and I really don't want stuff from Sly and Doris in my house. And I don't want to pay to move stuff I don't want in my house.

Maybe he'll forget about it?

I think life is going to get easier.

In which we talk about cancelling our vacation

Primo: Jack and I don't think dad would want to be intubated.

Me: OK.

Primo: But Ted does.

Me: Not good. But you have the medical power of attorney, right?

Primo: Yes, but I would like to have consensus with my brothers.

Me: Of course.

Primo: And Ted thinks dad should have the surgery.

Me: Does that mean Ted will move there to take care of your dad and clean the bag?

Primo: I don't think so. Besides, he would have to be in a nursing home. He could not take care of himself.

Me: That does not sound like something he would like.

Primo: I don't think so.

Me: Did you cancel the cottage?

Primo: No.

Me: Sweetie, we need to give them a chance to re-rent it. They should not have to take a financial hit.

Primo: But what if my dad dies this weekend? Then we could still go.

Me: Good point.

In which Primo thinks this might be it

I can't help but notice that Ted has not come up with that 30/60/90 plan yet.

the one he thought you should do

Ted talks a good game.

He is all hat and no cattle

Jack and I are at Mayo. Dad is worse today. This could be the end.

Oh no frown emoticon

This is not what I was expecting to happen even a few weeks ago

His BP is still low, heart rate up again, breathing more labored, white cell count up, and he is confused.

his poor body

They are talking about possible surgery. I don't think he would want it

What?

on a man who is this weak?

that does not make sense

I agree - I do not think he would want it

he is tired

If C. diff colitis cannot be cured with antibiotics and the infection is getting worse, the last resort is to remove the colon

do not think your dad would want to live without a colon

do not think he would want a bag

With colectomy (vs. colostomy), one may still defecate through the rectum.

I am sorry, sweetie

this is so hard

He may need to be intubated, which will be done if needed. I don't want to have to make a decision about surgery.

intubated for breating?

breathing?

Yes.

I don't blame you for not wanting to have to make a decision like that

This is one of the worst days. He is confused and keeps asking for unrealistic things. He thought we were trying to fight with him and be uncooperative.

I am despondent.

I am sorry, sweetie. That sounds very very hard and very very sad

I am tired of this. I want to go on vacation with you.

oh sweetie. I am so very sorry that you and your dad are having to go through this

I haven't called them yet. Earlier today I thought my dad might die within 24 hours, in which case I would have still wanted to go!

I wish for him a peaceful, quick, painless death

In which Sly is back in the hospital and we are probably not going to be able to go on vacation in two weeks and I am super depressed about it

Primo called. I don't want to talk. I am tired. I am tired of this rollercoaster and I know Primo is even more tired and even more cranky than I am. I know we are probably not going to be able to go on the vacation that we have been planning for a year - to spend ten days in a cottage on the Lake Superior shore, out of cellphone range, away from everything except the water and the loons.

I am angry that Sly will not die and will not get better.

But I take Primo's call.

He says with Sly back in the hospital, Ted might want to come back to Florida.

"Good," I say. "He can take over for you for two weeks so we can go on vacation."

"I can't do this any more," Primo said. "Jack called at midnight to tell me dad was back in the hospital. I guess they called him instead of me because he has a local number. So I drove back to the hospital and was there two hours and then went home and I am tired. I am numb. I feel awful for saying this, but if my dad died, it would be a relief."

And how.

"We are not going to be able to go on vacation," I said.

"If we don't go now, we will go in September. It will be cold and we will have to build a fire, but we will go."

"What if your dad is still in the hospital?"

"I will not deal with it any more. And if he's not, I will be relaxing in September. I will not be looking for a job."

Which of course ticks me off. "That was not the deal!"

"You cannot expect me to look for a job if I have spent almost a year taking care of my parents!"

"You cannot expect ME to be the one who suffers as a result of THEIR refusal to make ANY provisions for their future ill health!"

OK. That's not how it happened. There was a fight. I was pissed because Primo wrote something earlier that if we went on vacation in two weeks, we could pay a CNA or a companion to spend time with Sly and I read that as we could use our money to pay for someone to get Sly to drink water and I was livid because Sly has a lot more money than we do and it is not our job to make him drink water.

We fought. We fought and that's the part I remember,  not the details. Primo is exhausted and I am exhausted and we are both angry and I am even angrier that I am having to sacrifice on behalf of someone who does not deserve it and why should Sly live to be 81 when my dad, who was NICE and PEOPLE LOVED HIM, died at 62?

Then I got really angry because I thought Primo hung up on me only he had driven through a dead spot.

I am so tired and so migraine-y that I can't remember any details except that Primo used logic to convince me that being unemployed for 18 months is not much worse than being unemployed for 12 months, especially when you can say that the reason you were unemployed was dealing with parental illness and death.

Then Primo tells me that his dad said that if his heart stops, he does not want to be resuscitated and I asked, Do they have that in writing?

I am a bitch.

But I also am not so evil that I want Sly's suffering to drag on. If he is going to die, I want him to die now. I mean, of course he is going to die. But I would rather he die tomorrow than die in 30 days after more suffering. He is in the hospital with a feeding tube and a rectal tube. He is the most miserable he has ever been, he told Primo. Nobody should have to live like that.

If he is going to get better, I want him better tomorrow.

I am done with having Primo be gone and with all this drama.

In which Sly is back in the hospital because he is dehydrated because he won't drink water and I tell Primo just take him the bourbon it can't hurt him at this point

And Sly is back in the hospital.

This rollercoaster is never going to end.

• Primo
  

  
  

  
  

  I got a late-night call from Jack, who had gotten a call from the rehab center. (We're not sure why they didn't call me; maybe because he had a local number.) Dad was sent to the ER with very low blood pressure, and he has been admitted to the hospital again for dehydration and probable C. diff colitis.
• 
  

  4:05am
  

  Primo
  

  
  

  
  

  This is good in that he'll get the care he needs, but I will have to retrieve all his stuff from the rehab center again and we don't know how long he will be in the hospital. I am despondent again.

  
  

  He said that he does not want to be resuscitated if his heart stops or if his breathing stops. I think he has lost all motivation to get better.

In which we try to decide if we should go on our vacation, which we have been planning for a year, even though Sly has diarrhea

Primo informs me that his dad has a c-dif infection, which you get from taking a ton of antibiotics, which you take because you have a UTI, which you get because you will not drink water, even if your son begs you.

"I will have to suit up to see him," Primo said.

"Should we still go on our vacation?" he asks. "My dad says he is ruining our summer."

"He is," I answered.

"I have already decided that if he dies soon, the funeral won't be until September." (It is now July.)

"I guess there is no reason to rush it," I said. "And yes, we should go on vacation. I don't think I should have to miss my vacation just because your father has diarrhea. Someone else can take care of him."

"But what if they don't do it right?"

"What can they do wrong? It's not like you're going to heal him with your magic wand. He won't heal faster if you are standing over him."

"Maybe," he answers. "Maybe I should talk to that lady about getting a private CNA or companion."

"I had her email the information to you," I say. "It's $20 an hour. Your dad can afford it."

In which Primo has to wash Sly's clothes twice because they stink so much

Primo: I have put my dad's clothes through the washer twice and they still stink. He won't drink enough water and his urine is awful.

Me: Gross.

Primo: Would it hurt them to soak them in boiling water?

Me: I don't know how it could make them any worse.

Primo: They have elastic.

Me: I don't know how it could make them any worse.