Hubby’s grandfather (also known as Paw) is not doing very well. He has cancer, and won’t accept treatment for it. In a way I can’t blame him for it, because it seems like cancer treatments often do more harm than good. They certainly did with my dad.
I don’t know how much longer Paw will be around. He’s becoming senile, making strange requests at all hours of the night and getting people mixed up with each other. I hate seeing someone get like that. If only it were as easy as fixing a piece of hardware- just pop in some more computer memory and all is well. But the human brain just isn’t like that.
He’s asked to have his bed moved to the same spot where his wife was when she passed on. Everyone’s trying to be prepared for the worst, because it looks like it may be coming.
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