bob
Originally uploaded by cindigodotcom.

I’m laying in bed. There seem to be cats everywhere, even though there are only two. Both are laying on my arms, and expanding, making it difficult to type.

I’m back from Chicago and feeling like I’m not sure what I’m feeling. It’s a half headache, slightly stoned, introverted, achy but strangely comfortable feeling. I think this is what I may have felt like for the first twenty some years of my life. My aunt Barb and mom took my step dad to the hospital the day after I left. He’s taking morphine shots, oxcycoton and percoset for the pain. Although, I don’t want to put this wonky feeling all on this situation. I’ve been headed in this direction for weeks.

I don’t know that I even mentioned why I went back home. I was planning a trip in a few months, maybe for Thanksgiving, but my sister called and said to “get there now”. From talking to my mom, I never really know the true state of Bob’s health because for the last six years my mom has been claiming he’s “getting worse” or telling inflated stories of his declining health. For my sister to call and be worried, I was worried.

About six years ago he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and given a year to live. Since that time, he’s had open heart surgery and a broken neck that required him to wear a “halo” (a metal bracing device that is screwed into your skull to immobilize your neck), and lay in a electric bed rented and placed in the middle of the living room. The guy looks like you could knock him down with one finger, but he’s tough as hell.

My mom said that he should be in the hospital for another week, or more, she doesn’t really know. After that, she thinks “continuing care”, but she’s just making an educated guess, and even wasn’t sure what “continuing care” actually meant. My aunt is flying back next week, and I told my mom that I can fly out at any time.