Henry wants to get out of bed. He wants to sit on the toilet and read a book and have a nice shit. He wants to take a shower. He wants to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and with the help of a footstool, he is sure he can propel himself toward the shower. Maybe if Robert and Edmund help him, he can do it.
Look, he’s moving his feet (foot), Ed, get over here and help him.
Chris is keeping him on the bed, he says. We tell him, ok Henry, if you can get up, go ahead. He says he can.
We wait.
It’s both hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time.
Ed’s Dad (the erstwhile Henry) is paralyzed on the left side and is bed ridden. It’s from one of the strokes he’s had since his brain cancer surgery. When he came home there was a disasterous attempt to fulfill his request, that no one wants to repeat. He cannot sit up without assistance, and he is not a small man.
Hospice care comes by once a day to change his bed and bathe him. Otherwise, the family helps to change him. I was enlisted today. A shitty proposition.
Oh, the poop jokes! They are so many.
And we wait. To see what tomorrow brings.
I think Henry’s feet (foot) are (is) moving again. Let’s get that man a footstool!
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