I got a call from the nurse where Al lives and she told me that the family doctor had just been in and had prescribed an anti-depressant for Al. I freaked and asked her when they were going to give him the first dose and she said the first thing in the morning.
I asked her to please wait until I got back with her. I needed to talk to the doctor. I called and left him a message and he returned my call immediately. I told him about how two years ago Al was last on one of those types of medications. I explained how he had a terrible seizure from it and he couldn’t walk for almost six weeks.
I told him my fears and asked him if he still wanted to give it to him after my information. (This doctor was not our doctor two years ago)
He said, “Terry I just saw him. He is in so much pain and so depressed and sad. He is on the pain patch and now two more weak pain medications. He can’t take anymore. There is nothing I can do but to keep him comfortable. We have to try to lift some of his sadness. I have weighed the pros and cons and the pros are slightly in his favor. He does have the risk of seizures again but we won’t know unless we try, ok?”
I started crying right there on the phone. He told me, “Parkinson’s is a rough and dirty disease. It is beating Al up. How can you and I sit here and watch him suffer every single day.”
He didn’t know it but I was sitting here nodding my head. I knew I agreed with him but it just seems there is no licking this disease. I told him that I would call the nurse back and give her the go ahead for the medication.
I know I am supposed to be strong but here I am once again, a big weak mess. Watching the life disappear out of his life is harder I think than anything I have witnessed in a few years.