He did it! He accepted tube feeding! I am so relieved! And I think that he is relieved as well ...
He texted me earlier about the tube feeding, so we went to the hospital where he was admitted. He’s just going to be here for a couple of days. I’m happy about it.
I held his hand when he got the tube. It didn’t go great the first time and it ended up coming out through his mouth. I’m still chuckling. It’s not funny, I know. But it is. I’m one of those people and I’m not proud of it. It was so unpleasant for him and it looked ridiculous and I can’t handle that. Clearly.
I’m sitting by his bed, knitting and listening to music (The other patient in the room is snoring. A lot. My music can’t drown it out. I’m a metal head. I would be impressed if I didn’t hate the sound so much). My father is watching a movie on his smartphone. I look at him sometimes, and he looks at me and smiles a little. Not the polite smile or the “grin and bear it”-smile. He looks safe and glad to have company. He tries to hide his smiles sometimes. He does that. I don’t know why he does it but I think it’s sort of cute. These are the good times.
I’ve named the tube “the trunk”, and told him that it was about time he got a trunk to match his memory and thick skin. Luckily, he’s ok with me making a joke of things. He even joins in ... when he can. Not being able to speak makes it difficult for him. Last week I teased him by saying that now was the time for him to learn sign language – “No problem, dad. One day should be plenty of time for you to learn”. He made his signing skills very clear to me, while laughing a little. Well ... I say laughing. Squeaking would be more correct. Still quite funny.
I like these days, where things seem to work out.