Keeping Vigil

The last few days have been peaks and valleys of emotion. Henry has been sleeping most of the time, waking for an hour or two at a time, sometimes three or four. When he first wakes he's generally alert and responsive, can converse and is comfortable. We keep him on pain medication to avoid headaches which are the hallmark of the tumor's progression. As he tires, his requests turn to demands and he begins a manic litany of needs which get more and more frequent and unreasonable. This exhausts all of us, especially as sometimes his waking moments are at night.

During these wakeful moments we recall better times with photos and conversation. He still watches some television but his interest in that has waned recently. He does hum, sing or tap to the jingles for his shows, which brings a smile to our faces and makes me strangely content. He is drinking well and still enjoys some of the foods he always has; orange chips, chocolate, mandarin oranges. We spend our time attentive to him, waking or asleep, and to the girls, keeping them occupied and feeling loved.

It is not clear how much time we have with him. I read an account of survival at sea recently. According to the author, rescue must be viewed as an "interruption to the survival journey" meaning that to look for the end is to lose focus on what is required now. For now we will float, focus on Henry and await interruption.