Almost Christmas

Defying expectations, Manford is still here, and looks like he will make it to Christmas. He is unable to get out of the bed at all, but this has made things simpler, in some ways--no more precarious transfers to the wheelchair or recliner. He is on oxycontin now, because of various increasing pains which may be directly or indirectly related to the cancer, and it is making him a bit fuzzy on reality...we have got a palliative care nursing agency coming every other night or so, and during the day for a few hours, and this is really helpful.

Two weeks ago the hospice nurse was trying to talk me into putting him into a nursing home, but I looked at what was available and couldn't send him to that hot concrete cell (the best face I could put it on was a monastic cell, but I am not sure that is the most accurate). But it spurred me to get more help, and that has been godsend. And my sister Sarah arrived last week for about 10 days, and she is also a great help, especially with the kids.

It is very hard to tell how much longer now; Manford is still wanting to eat, though not as much as a couple of weeks ago, when he was spurred to ravenousness by the steroids. He has trouble, intermittently, drinking from a straw, and with various motor tasks like turning in bed. He is ready to be done with it, and keeps saying goodbye, but his body is not finished. Our friend from the hospice art group, Glenn, who also has a brain tumor, and lives about five blocks from here, is in about the same condition; they also have children, six and fifteen, also trying to make it through Christmas.