My Father’s Difficult Final Days

My father’s passing was difficult.

Today is my father’s birthday. He would have been 95.

My father’s health troubles began in 2016 when he suffered a heart attack at age 86. He survived an aortic valve replacement. During his recovery, a myriad of symptoms appeared: dizziness, anemia, burning sensations. He began losing weight, nearly 60 pounds in two years. He was given a battery of tests but doctors couldn’t diagnose an underlying cause.

He became frail and weak and resembled a Holocaust victim. In August 2019, he fell and fractured his spine. Only then did Medicare authorize the blood marrow biopsy that diagnosed his condition. He had lymphoma. Given his age, chemotherapy wasn’t an option. He was moved from the hospital to a rehab facility to a skilled nursing center.

Our family was told he had between one and two months to live. My father wasn’t ready to die. Nor were we, his family, ready to let him go. We all grew frustrated. That’s when the calls from hospice began. Seven hospice agencies contacted us to discuss end of life options. It seemed as if the medical system decided my father couldn’t be saved and was disposable.

We quickly learned the basics of hospice care. Treatment is palliative instead of curative. The intent is to make the patient as comfortable as possible and ease pain and suffering. Medical care doesn’t stop but…