Sister had a conversation with Dad last night. He explained to her that the doctor had prescribed antibiotics for Mom, and she was going to be fine. Sister expressed doubt about this report, but he was quite insistent. She called the doctor. "Is Dad confused? Did you really prescribe antibiotics for Mom?"
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Dad is confused. We always thought he would die first. He has always had health problems. Mom has always been healthy. The nurse or one of us tell him something, and then he reworks it in his own mind. "She has less than 20 days," becomes "She had about 30 days, but since she's eating now she'll be around much longer." "She has a high fever," becomes "She has an infection, so antibiotics will cure her."
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I've encouraged Sister not to take away all his defense mechanisms. This morning Dad asked her, "How much time does your mother have?" She told him not very long, and that Far Away Sister was making arrangements to fly in. He immediately shifted his focus to how nice it will be to see Far Away Sister.
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He knows. He just doesn't want to. It's going to be very hard on him. I don't anticipate him living long after she dies.
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