Each time I call Mom I ask, "How's it going?" And she answers, "Slowly."
Darrell mostly sleeps now, hardly eats and doesn't really pee because he isn't drinking. Last week, mom got up in the morning and called to him, couldn't find him. The doors were all locked but she finally ventured outside to find him walking the circle drive-way. "Darrell?" she called.
"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know where I was! I thought I had to go to work; I don't wanna go to work!"
A few days later he was almost shouting and Mom and Dad about how they force him to work and take all his money. Mom had to call several people & explain to them that if he starts talking about they need to come pick him up because he's living with them because Dave and Sis are such terrible people--it's not true and it's not happening.
Of course he's a bit out of his mind now and then. Of course Mom and Dad aren't sending him to work and the only time they ever took money from him was the time he left the water hose running for hours and hours, full blast. Darrell gave Mom forty dollars and apologized for the water bill.
It's become quite depressing. More so than usual. He's stopped eating so he's lost a considerable amout of weight. His arms appear skinny and the skin is cracked and weathered from years under the sun. His face droops on one side. A type of bed sore on his foot has become infected and swollen and reeks of that odd infection smell. The same scent can be detected when you stand near his face and the cancer forced a drainage from his ear, coupled with large amounts of blood.
His favorite pants, which were once so tight it took two people to button, now hang from his waist. But his pain is practically managed most of the time which is saying something. Mom cries because she knows it would better for him to let go, though he's fighting it every minuet. "But I know the alternative!" she weeps. "He has no kind of life!"
On the one hand, he is in pain and spends most of his time sleeping or trying to pee, which is not the best life for a person. It's taxing and stressful on everyone that loves him. On the other hand, once he's gone, he's gone and I think as hard as things are right now on Mom, the alternative may be even harder.
Jesus, if you are there.....
give us a solution to this mess.
Tell him it's OK to stop fighting.
Tell him to let go.