The elderly retired Colonel for whom I am primary caregiver is, I believe, showing signs that life is ending soon.
His hands, feet, nose, and ears feel cold, even in a very warm room (they keep two fireplaces and radient heat going all the time). His hands look strange - with light yellow fingers, and somewhat mottled palms. His feet are similar, but the toe area isn't as yellowish, just lighter than the rest of his feet. He's cold, and night before last I wrapped him in a flannel sheet I had tossed in the dryer for about 5 minutes, then topped that with a blanket. He was so weak, he only very softly said "I'm cold" when asked if he was okay (that's why I did the blanket thing). I have zero previous experience with this level of decline. I'm just wondering what to expect next. I'm spending this evening and all night with them, then Monday night, and 24 hours Thursday. They are supposed to be flying to their primary residence in California on the 8th. I find that to be very strange, and ill-advised, as both of their children live here. The two children have airline tickets and will be accompanying them on the flight. I, along with another caregiver, will be preparing them and their luggage for the trip.
Hmm. Guess I wonder if anyone else has seen the end of life come preceded by this sort of change in appearance and temperature. It's unsettling. But if any of the caregivers were to actually be there for his journey across The Great Divide, I hope it's me, just because I've earned the title "favorite", and he seems to rest better with my presence. I'm loud, laugh a lot, and make sure we have fun every day. Seems like an odd mix, but it works for them. How do I prepare for what I may have to witness? How do I know the time is getting close?
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I'm a caregiver. Not family. I think the family sometimes doesn't know what to do with the relationship the Colonel and his Mrs. have with me. But the early morning after his death, his daughter found me and gave me a hug and asked how I was doing. That was a first, and I told her I appreciated it. It was all a blur until the service on Tuesday. When the bugle started playing Taps it felt so final. Now we move on.
The funny stories are coming out on a daily basis. We laugh, and we cry. It's good.
As of yesterday, he is totally in the wheelchair with just a little bit of standing, supported, for post-toilet cleaning, etc. When his son saw that he was unable to stand, he cancelled all the flights. Today the Colonel cancelled his 35-year membership at the Country Club in California where they "live". Looks like he'll breathe his last breath in Washington, and will never see his old home again. That realization has kicked him in the gut. He was falling asleep already this morning as I got ready to leave after the overnight, and he'd only been up a couple hours.
Last night he was finally comfortable in bed at 11:30pm, and then got up around 3am for a Depends change and repositioning. He did make it to the potty, in the wheelchair, and managed to stand long enough for me to pull things up and down for him. I am afraid he doesn't have much time. We're going to start the .... oh what do you call them.... sheets that allow you to help a patient turn in bed. Because this client is SO demanding and difficult, and very hard on all the caregivers, the agency admin is changing shifts around. I won't have to do any more 84 hour weeks! I'm tellin' ya, I do NOT know how family caregivers do this 24/7. I love the couple deeply, but .... wow. If I get a call that he's failing, though, I'm racing down the freeway for a final hug.