Claudette Konola
 
My dad had a stroke yesterday. We spent the day following him first to St. Mary’s Hospital, then to the VA Hospital. His vital signs are all good, but he can’t talk.

 I spoke with mother early this morning. The nurses told her that he spent a restless night and did not speak to them. We did get a chuckle or two out of him yesterday when we told him that his hair looked like Jackson’s. (Jackson is my dog and his hair just goes every which way.) We’ll spend the day with him, and see if we can’t goad him into talking. 

It is his right side. He does have control of major motor skills, i.e. he can raise both arms, and both legs. He can’t wiggle his toes or fingers on the right side. His face, which looked contorted early in the day yesterday looked pretty normal by the time we left last night.

We had one of those end of life conversations with his doctor yesterday. Fortunately my Dad has a living will, so we knew what he wanted. In the event that he has real trouble breathing (he’s on oxygen) or his heart stops, they will keep him comfortable, but not take extraordinary measures. It was a very calm and dignified conversation, thanks to his preparation. 

We hope that conversation was just a dry run, and that we don’t have to face the end for quite some time.