Multiple personalities

There are only a few of the many people Gil is, left in the room. This thing is going so fast. Each day is like a week. Gil's ability to communicate was pretty much gone by Weds. Thursday we knew he could hear some of what was going on but not much of any response. When pushed to take meds or be turned, a flash of anger and resistance showed there was still somebody in there claiming ownership of the body. On Friday he was a little more present opening his eyes occasionally but not clear what/if he was seeing. He did blow a kiss to Chris and has been responding to our palm to palm pulsing hand holds which a friend just showed us, very soothing.

For the faint of heart, skip the next paragraph. As his body shuts down, amongst other things, fluid is collecting around his lungs and in his throat. The resulting gurgle is pretty disturbing, though they say it isn't to him.

But this brings out an odd assortment of my multiple mes. I woke up next to him gurgling and felt like Munches "The Scream". Fear is not a particularly big presence in the room for either of us I sense, except the awe/fear of staring into the complete unknown. There is a big part of me who is curious, another trying to be competent, and then there's sadness that sometimes sneaks up when I'm least expecting it and brings me to my knees with tears. I can't quite imagine life without Gil.

But that will be happening soon, very possibly today.

I wish I were good with the pictures in the blog thing, because we have the most beautiful view of the lake and the eastern sky from his bead. I wish he could see it, and the poster size photo of the farm view out the field that we have at the end of his bead. Perhaps he can feel them. I have been soaking up sunrises all week