Crying and laughing while watching somebody die

Oktober 30, 2009 in Sonder kategorie

Sat with my dad since 10h00 this morning. The plan was to just go and visit for the visiting hour, because I need to work if I want to pay my bills next week.

When I got there, I found him all bewildered, both hands restrained and the drip in the other hand. Apparently he pulled out the drip several times during the night, and they had no choice but to restrain him.

It’s not clear what he tried to do when I found him (in a private room) but he was red in the face with his blue eyes wide and wild. Like that of a trapped animal. Luckilly my friend Cornelia was with me, because it was quite a shock to see him in this state. Calmed him down, and he “talked” the whole time. I could only catch a word here and there. Voice almost gone.

It was finally time to start him on morphine. 2mg every 2 hours.

Prayed, talked, read from the Bible, prayed some more, held ice for him to suck on, held his hand, prayed… At about 13h00 my brother from Pretoria came. We found that reading from the Bible calms him – not surprising, as he was always a devout son of God. He clung to our hands with all his might, and at times cried out in pain (abdominal area). Tried to pull off the hospital gown (easier to dress him in that than in his own pyjamas). When we pulled it back, he pulled it down again. A nice little tug of war that almost made us forget the seriously sad situation we’re in. Then Dad lost his patience with us, and demanded a knife. Yep, a knife, because he wants to cut the damn thing off. When my brother nicely refused the knife, my dad really lost his temper (something he has done only a few times in my life) and angrily gave him a look that could kill. And just to drive home the point, made a fist at him. You could tick me over with a feather. I have never seen my dad do that in my entire life. So, by this time my boet and I are almost in stitches, with Dad still gaaning aan about the knife.

“Bring die dem ding hierso, dan wys ek jou”, he says angrily to my brother. “Maar ek HET mos al vir jou gewys, stupid.” Loud and clear, and now we are almost peeing our pants. Of which my dad finally had enough. He shook his finger at my brother and said: “As ons nou huis toe gaan, gaan ek jou gatvelle aftrek!” (Which, in English, means you will end up with no skin on your behind.”)  

For the whole last year that I have been looking after him, I was called different names. Ma, Susan, Suzie (all my mother’s pet names) or Marlize (my sister’s name). Sometimes even Piet! (Who the hell was Piet, you may ask. Let me know if you find out, as I still wonder.) But seldom Ilse.

But tonight, as I lie with my head on his arm, I get shat upon from a dizzy height: “Man, demmit Ilse, le nou stil.”

So, several good giggles were had by all.

As always, my friends were there when I needed them: with sms’s, calls, flowers, looking after my kids, baking (scones and muffins in my kitchen when I got home). My dad was visited today by three dominees who prayed for him. Willie (ex-bf-turned-dominee) came twice. If only my dad knew that the boyfriend he chased away in St 8 turned into a lovely, talented and dedicated preacher with a passion.

When I left, he was already on morphine every hour, and sleeping peacefully.

Now I’m starting to see double. I think the sleeping tablet might have something to do with that. Must just go past the pot of honey with the muti for my coughing. Naait, naait.

3 antwoorde op Crying and laughing while watching somebody die

  1. Lekker slaap, jy het dit nodig. Die dat hy so deurmekaar raak by tye…. hy het nie dalk ‘n gewas op sy brein nie? My skoonpa het so snaaks begin optree agv daarvan. xxx

  2. it’s not easy and my thoughts are with you.

  3. Ek los ‘n miljoen drukkies vir jou ……
    ((((hugs)))

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