DNR

    A nurse at Lowman was talking with Dad about his situation. We had it set up for them to use heroic measures to save him if he seems to be dying. She feels that in his case, this is a bad idea, that heroic measures would mean broken bones and if it somehow saved him, he would be in much worse shape than he is in now with little ability to recover. So essentially she talked him into a DNR (do not resuscitate) order. This was before he went back to the hospital. In fact, the night before he went back to the hospital, at nearly 11, she called me to tell me about it, which seems ultra-creepy but is almost certainly mere coincidence.
    Yesterday, she brought it up again with Margaret present. Dad said that he didn't want CPR, it would hurt and it wouldn't do any good. This seemed more than a little coached, but there you are, he said it. Margaret was upset, but said she would abide by Dad's wishes. I pointed out that although he has had congestive heart failure, nobody can say for sure that he's had a heart attack. The probability is that CPR wouldn't be called for anyway. I just wanted to make sure that nobody gave up on him in the event of some other problem. She said that they wouldn't. I signed, Dad signed, and he wanted Margaret to sign, too, which she did bravely.
    Then it turned out that there was another form that also needed to be signed. That one was for the attending physician. It said that the doctor had explained to Dad the options. He didn't want to sign it because "that would be a lie." (She hadn't explained the options; the nurse had instead.) The nurse was puzzled until I clarified what Dad was objecting to and I said he wouldn't sign it until the doctor came and talked to him. Then he relented and said he would sign it. But hell, I was just thrilled that the old fellow was still the sharpest person in the room.