My Dad is in his final hours—which really sucks if you are one of his sons, daughters-in-law or grand daughters

By SJ Otto

I’m at a major intersection of my life where my dad is dying from lung cancer and other complications. The disease is bad enough that the doctor sent over some morphine to kill his pain.

In all the time he has been sick here at his home, he has had little pain—so far!!

But tonight he is miserable. He has been in more pain that I’ve seen him in since he started to get sick from his cancer.  This morning he was barely conscious. I wondered if he was going into a coma? No he didn’t do that. He suddenly sprang to consciousness. When I say sprang- that is a bit of an exaggeration. He has not been able to eat and he has drunk little. My niece and two sisters-in-law and my wife have all been here, today, along with two brothers. I went to run an errand at about 3pm and I had a flat. We have had at least one tire replaced about a month ago. That should not have happened.

I had to get out all those crappy special tools I bought the last time my car broke down. With all the tools I had from the last time, it should have been easy and simple….it wasn’t. If I believed in god I would have thought that he made us all so he has stupid little people he can piss on and laugh at. But no logic in that….right!?

We all suspect that my dad has just a day or two left—maybe more or maybe a lot less. He is 91 years old. All things come to an end. Just a few days ago I took my cat in to the vet to end her life. She was really sick from some kind of cancer. She reached a point where she could not eat, drink or pee. She was week. She could not really holler much or try to escape us.

We drove her to the vet and on the way she barely put up a fight—as she usually does. The vet put a needle in her arm and a few minutes later she was lifeless. Easy for the pets—less so for our relatives, such as a dad.

We can’t put our relatives out of their misery—even though that idea is tempting. I couldn’t that to my dad and I don’t think my relatives could do that either. So we give him the morphine, which doesn’t work as well as I expected it to. It barely works at all.

He won’t be with us long now. He can’t eat or drink much. I suspect he has only a day or two—maybe!!

Nothing to do but make him comfortable and try to relieve his pain. And….wait!

Pix by Henry Schein.