Yesterday everything changed. Yesterday was my FIL’s appt with the Infectious Disease Specialist; I’m afraid the news wasn't very good, the antibiotics are not working, the infection in his bone and the bed sore have not improved, even after 4 weeks of strong IV antibiotics. The doctor said they will not heal and surgery is not possible. He will have the infection and the wound his remaining days; they will be switching him over the next week to oral antibiotics to see if it can hold the infection in place and if not he will become septic (just like my mom). We are also thinking the antibiotics are preventing pneumonia from developing because he's been bed bound and is starting to cough harder and his voice is changing so they are going to do a chest X-ray.

He doesn’t even know yet about the outcome, we just told him the Dr is keeping him on the IV antibiotics for another couple of weeks, then transitioning him over to an oral antibiotic (this is true) to see how well the oral form works for him and in the mean time we are working on finding out what we need to bring him home (also true). We have a meeting at the nursing home this afternoon to discuss his care options. We would like to give him what he wants; to go home, we just need to make sure it’s the best for his health. He currently needs 24/7 care, has to have his bedsore cleaned and packed twice a day and will be completely bed ridden. He’s seems to be getting more confused or forgetful as well.

I’m so emotional about this, and I know it’s not about me. I’m being strong for my family but all the feelings of going through this with my Mom in 2013/2014 are flooding back as real and raw as if I’m reliving it like a twisted version of a Groundhog Day. If the oral antibiotics don’t work as well holding off the infection, he will become septic and I don’t know that I’m strong enough to go through this again! I mean I know I have no control over what is happening inside his body and this is happening to him, not me, but I’m afraid!

I’m afraid of loosing him, watching him suffer like my Mom did, watching his body slowly shut down and knowing there is not a Damn thing we can do to stop it or end his suffering! I’m afraid of not being strong enough and having seizures from the stress of it all!!! I’m also mad at him for not telling us he had a sore on his a$$ until it was too late, for being so DAMN stubborn. Something could have been done! He was living the independent life that was so important to him; he told me he had been having intermittent loose bowels and an upset stomach for two days but had no fever, so I made an appt for the doctor for that Saturday. The very next day my husband came home and told me he had to help his Dad clean up his bottom and saw a sore that was the size of his thumb and looked deep so we rushed him to the ER and he’s been hospitalized since.

Just so emotional right now and broken hearted.