I just returned from the hospital, taking the evening visitation time. The old man is weak and looks startlingly like a baby bird. But he perked up when I was there and drank some ginger ale and took his pills. The nurses were amazed that he had perked up so much just with this visit.
He has elevated ammonia in the blood due to having malaria and hepatitis when he was in the Pacific on a naval ship. I don't know why it is manifesting now, other than probably there is a strain on his body and things are just out of whack. That isn't a very scientific explanation, but it is all that I have forthcoming at the moment.
At the moment, I am tired but feel okay. I hope that he will turn the corner, but once again I realize that turning the corner at 90 is not quite the same as when a person is 35. Today, I went to four assisted living facilities to gather information. I could see how eager the residents were to talk to me, a fresh face. I felt a lot of sadness, yet I realize that many of them are indeed happy and feel safe in these facilities. It is not so hard to imagine myself here in a few more decades. But I don't want to think about that this evening. That sends me into a self-pitying state and brings up all kind of abandonment stuff.
I am really too weary to write much else. Tomorrow could be a good day or a bad one. I am going to be optimistic and hope for a good day for all concerned. The vegetables are coming in, there was some rain, and I got to spend a few hours on the boat. There is still much to be grateful for. As the young lady who shared her story last night said, "I have lost a lot of things in recovery: my marriage, my house, my job, most of my things, but I have gained so much more. I am truly happy for the first time in years. And that is priceless."