Your Chariot Awaits

An ambulance took Charlie to Hospice about 10 hours ago. The goal is to regulate his medications and make him comfortable so he can safely come home.

 He fell twice last night, injuring his wife on the second fall. He hasn’t slept in two days…just cat naps.  Like he said, “No point in living if I have to stay in this bed.”

He couldn’t rest at all this morning.  Can’t get in bed….can’t sit in a chair…gotta pee…gotta sleep…need a snack…need a break.

Nothing is comfortable. Everything’s lousy.

He started throwing ice packs, pillows and water glasses at me this morning when I wouldn’t “get me the hell out of this bed!”

Within an hour of calling Hospice, they had the social worker here to facilitate his admission. Thirty minutes later, the ambulance was on the way to transport him. When they pulled in the driveway I said, “Dad, your Chariot has arrived.”

He grinned, then winked.

“Please make sure you have the right one this time.”

I’m hoping I did that. The Chariot to heaven is the one he wanted.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. tracey
    Sep 05, 2009 @ 10:40:26

    Audrey thank you very much for sharing this with us, as a caregiver so many times the story is never told and we never know until it is us in your shoes the turmoil that someone goes through. You have an amazing gift for both caring and for writing continue and people will read. Keeping you and your family in our prayers.

    Reply

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