Hospice

This week, I made the difficult decision to enroll my father in hospice care. He is suffering from primary progressive aphasia and is in the very late stages of the disease. For the past two months, he has been struggling with hallucinations and paranoia, making him miserable. He believes the staff around him are carrying weapons and have beaten him, which has increased his agitation and caused him to move around unpredictably. Standing and walking contributed to multiple injuries and trips to the emergency department. A few weeks ago, despite round-the-clock care and observation, he fell, hit his head, and suffered a brain bleed. He has been in the hospital since. In the hospital, his condition has deteriorated more rapidly. His speech is slurred and he is even more agitated, including assaulting staff and removing monitors. They have been forced to intermittently restrain and sedate him.

Due to being bedridden for so long, he can no longer stand or walk. He never wanted to be bedridden and hallucinating. So, we have shifted his POLST form from selective treatment to comfort care, which allows him to return to his assisted living facility tomorrow and eliminates further trips to the emergency department, of which he’s had many in the last few months.

The next weeks or months will be difficult. At this point, we’re waiting for some condition to catch up with him, causing him to lose his ability to drink and eventually pass away. If we hadn’t given him IV fluids and antibiotics during this most recent hospital visit, he would likely have already passed. I fear that might have been the better outcome at this point. Both he and I hope that he simply goes to sleep and doesn’t wake up. Unfortunately, he is no longer capable of making the decision to end his life under our state’s death with dignity laws. So, we wait.