God’s Veto Power

Dearest Rachel –

You would have never countenanced it:

“Son, when you leave, can you take that out of here? It’s been in the corner for too long already, and I don’t feel like looking at it anymore.”

“Okay, sure, Dad; I’ll bring it back to the house.”

“No, don’t bring it back to my house.”

“Well, it’s your balloon; what do you want me to do with it?”

“I don’t care. Throw it out. But it’s not going home.”

Had you been there, you would have insisted I take it back to our place, if Dad didn’t want it; anything but throw it out.

Fortunately, it seems like it might very well not be.

I mentioned a meeting that I offered to join Mom at this morning, regarding his progress towards wellness and recovery. It turns out that it was a little less than I thought it would be, but promised more than I might have ever expected. It was basically an introduction to the heads of staff at the convalescent home, and ordinarily would have taken place a day or two after he was admitted, but… well, there was the weekend, and then the holiday, and things slide a bit on the administrative side. Thankfully, this wasn’t so much an issue in terms of the care, or else he would have been in rough shape.

Anyway, the point of this introduction to the department heads was to make sure we understood they had every intention of getting Dad on the road to recovery. This place is not meant to be, as some nursing homes could be described, “God’s waiting room”; they want to see him eventually leave under his own power, whether on foot or in a chair, as opposed to being carried out.

For his own part, Dad explained to them that he has no fear of the latter outcome, given his faith and what he trusts his future to be; however, even he admitted later on that the two department heads had been somewhat nonplussed by his statement. Now, it may be possible that they didn’t share his faith (and to be fair, one would be hard-pressed to find someone with the same level of faith as he has, even among believers), but I pointed out to him that, just on a professional level, they would not consider that an optimal result, which I think he understood. It’s hard to properly convey one’s acceptance of God’s will regarding one’s ultimate destiny without sounding like one has given up on trying to live.

Although, when words are insufficient to suitably clear things up, there are always actions. While it tires him rapidly, he endures the exercises they put him through, in order to be able to stand and walk, to button and unbutton his pajamas, and other seemingly small tasks he’ll need to be able to do in order to merit discharge after the next thirty days or so, when we will meet once again with the department heads to discuss his progress.

Imagine; a couple weeks ago – even earlier this week – we assumed he wouldn’t see the following day or two, and now, we’re hearing from the professionals that there is no reason we shouldn’t expect him, not just to still be alive a month from now, but better than he is now – maybe even able to come home, where he would be that much more comfortable. He’d still require round-the-clock care, and certain other accommodations (like a hospital bed in the house somewhere for him to sleep), but he might spend his last days where he wants to – in his own home – and on his own terms.

In order to do that, he needs to engage in various therapeutic exercises; getting up out of bed, using a walker, and so forth. Thus far, he has been cooperative, although he admits to becoming exhausted quickly; even staying seated upright in his wheelchair tires him out – he is, after all, sitting atop one of his more serious bedsores. The department heads informed us that they would be obtaining a special gel-filled cushion for his chair to ameliorate his situation as much as possible, so hopefully it will become less problematic going forward. But even now, he’s gone from one ten-step trip across the floor yesterday to two such walks in succession today.

All in all, even as we understand that his time is running out – well, his more obviously than most of us – it seems that God continues to exercise His veto power upon any desire Dad may have to join you and his cousin and so many others that have gone before us. And when it’s not your time, you’re invincible!

Still, if you can, honey, keep an eye on him, and wish him luck. He’s going to need it, certainly more so than myself for now.