We returned home on Saturday from the plains bringing Pappy along with us. It's his third day here and he is finally finding his chair without direction, the bathroom is a destination he can navigate without too much help and when it's bedtime he strolls to the end of the hall where his familiar pictures hang. We stocked up on his choice foods soon after our arrival at home and his routine continues. At 93, routine is a must. Habit kicks in when memory fails. Physically his health is stellar, mentally he struggles. Always though, he is cheerful and grateful for our assistance.
Ol' Abner is struggling physically. Breathing takes more and more effort. He cannot walk around outside without the ever present oxygen tank on his shoulder. Frustration makes him short tempered, then remorseful for his angry outbursts. He knows I don't take it personally but my stress shows I guess when I see him in distress.
Today he turned in the information to be contacted for an evaluation of lung transplant candidacy. It was a step that confirms the decline in his lung function. While we are both hopeful, apprehension about the path ahead cannot be avoided.
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