Yesterday I was able to speak to the hospice social worker. She is an angel on earth! After visiting with her, I no longer felt the huge burden of guilt. She was adamant that there should be no feeding tube. In her experience, they cause more trouble that they are worth. She also confirmed my fear - once it is in place, it will stay there. She explained that my dad's body is doing the natural thing. It wants and needs no more food. It is finished.
I also got to be present when the speech therapists came in to do the swallow evaluation. It was rather inconclusive. I vetoed the test being done in x-ray. He couldn't cooperate. They also didn't believe in the feeding tube.
I feel better about the situation today than I have. My guilt is ebbing to some extent. I would like to say that I won't grieve his death. That is not the fact. I know that his death will be a release for him. He looks so lost - so scared. I know that his life no longer has the meaning it did several months ago. His mind is not there. He really has nothing to go to. He doesn't know us. The look on his face and in his eyes tears my heart out. For these reasons, I pray for the end, but it still hurts.
But today I am armed with specific questions for his primary physician. I know that the insurance companies involved also are going to have some specific questions soon. Let's face it - they are in business for the money, and there is a serious drain of that right now. But we will see what happens tomorrow.
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