Uncle Mike comes home

My mom called me from the road that Tuesday to tell me she was driving Mike back to Iowa. She had been in Schaumburg for the past 4 weeks, assessing the situation and figuring out what to do next. He hadn't been to work for 2 weeks, and he was letting her drive him to doctor appointments and to the grocery store. He spent most of his time now in his recliner, dozing on morphine. He didn't want to leave, but my mom said she needed to check on their mother in Iowa and that he should come with her. Before they left, she got his will updated and gave his parrot to one of his co-workers.

Thursday evening I arrived in Ottumwa with 24 strawberry Ensures and a dozen chocolate puddings. This was all Mike was able to eat now. When I walked in he was reclining in the living room with a blanket on his lap, watching CNN. His face was the color of ash, and he looked like he hadn't eaten in months. I asked "How are you Uncle Mike?". It took all his effort to smile and answer. "Oh, fair to midline."

My mom was exhausted. She had not had a full night's sleep since they'd arrived. Mike would call her name every couple of hours for help getting to the commode and help taking his pills. Mom said she had an appointment for him to see a doctor on Monday. I said maybe we should push that up a little.

Friday morning we called the doctor and explained our situation. The hospice nurse, Sue, made her first visit around noon. We hired someone to sit up with Mike that night so we could get some sleep.