I'm flabbergasted that they're going to allow chemo, that anyone thinks he's stable enough, mentally or otherwise. Even my koala knows we're about to call time, that the end is getting closer.
I moved to Cincinnati in September 1998. I had decided to move Universities after I kept seeing the rapist who insisted on attending my housewarming the day afterr he assaulted around town. Somehow, I ended up working at the UC Medical School library on the 3rd shift. I'd forget to pack a dinner and would make do
with vending machine picnics. My picnic today rather reminded me of that time, a pack of pistachios, a packet of crisps, a melted York peppermint patty at the care facility before I hop a ride on the ambulance to the Dayton VA.
There was a notable absence of questionable tuna or chicken salad sandwiches, which made me a bit nostalgically sad. I was so focused on making sure the kidlets were taken care of, safe, having as a decent time as they can - that I forgot my own lunch. They are incredible, these two, rolling with the dysfunction and ever-changing routine, especially given the ASD.
Dying in America is expensive business. The closer it gets to the end of my dad's tenure, the more I can see clearly the flaws in the system. If it weren't for his VA medical coverage, well...yeah. The irony of the whole healthcare debate in America is that we already HAVE what is commonly referred to as 'socialised medicine,' to a small degree. And the system could very easily be expanded, with careful, strategic investment and measured guidance. It really isn't has complex as we're making it and to be witnessing firsthand the decline is devestating.
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