he's so incredibly sick

I got a call from D at 7 this morning, telling me he'd be discharged today. If I hadn't known it was him, I would not have guessed it. they have him pumped full of so many meds.

I picked him up about 1:15. I was instantly blown away by how sick he looked. The nurse had to help him get in the car.

What I now know about Saturday night: he remembers drinking at the bar, then he remembers waking up in an ambulance (there's also a bit of knowledge of being about 100 feet from his car, so he apparently collapsed in the parking lot), and then waking again at the ER. He heard someone say "he's seizing." It took 18 IV bags to get him hydrated. He many have had a small heart attack in the ambulance.

Since his collapse, balance has been an issue. He can't walk without holding on to something. He has orders for PT to visit him at his house to help him figure out how to navigate stairs. He was told he shouldn't be living alone. He needs someone to help him.

fuck fuck fuck

He's not processing anything.

He said "I can't wait to see the kiddos, " as if he'd just been away for a few days (not 18 weeks). I looked at him, trying to understand what that statement meant. I truly think he has no idea how long it's been. I think days have blurred to weeks, to months. My bitterness about that subsided a little. So so sick.

The "easy" part of this, for me, was that he did not ask for Sierra. And now, I have his physical issues to argue why he shouldn't have her. He can barely walk/get up the stairs, which means that her trips outside will be less than they already were.

After he told me about this issue with the stairs, I asked if it was ok if I made sure he made it to condo ok, since he lives on 3rd floor. He was fine it. We pulled out of lot, and should have gone left to get to the condo. Instead he went right, so I followed. I thought at first he was going to stop by the store, but he passed that, and got closer and closer to my house, which made me anxious. Did he think he was going to get Sierra? Finally, at a stoplight I jumped out of the car and ran up to his to ask where he was going. He looked at me blankly and said "I have no idea." I told him to turn around and I'd follow, which he did. Getting up the stairs was slow, but manageable, especially since there's a substantial railing to hold on to.

We got inside and I reminded him that I'd been there Sun night. He had no recollection. I asked him if he knew he was a "silent patient." He had no memory of making that request, although in a drunken stupor I'm sure he did. I politely asked if something happened in the future, would he please give the ok to keep me informed and he said yes. I asked if he'd check in via text, letting me know he was ok, and he said yes.

I'm desperately afraid he's going to die, on a combo of lithium and alcohol. I didn't even broach the drinking topic. There was no point, and quite frankly I'm tired of it. All I can see in my head is that huge glass of white wine that was still on the coffee table from Sat night, and the watered down rum and coke still in his fridge. He doesn't even need to leave the condo to get alcohol back in his system.

I've already touched base with his brother about getting a guardian appointed. I'm the most likely candidate, and the one he'd most likely be ok with holding that role. I'm waiting on a call from M to see what that means for me. Are we jumping the gun with this? Part of me says yes, but the other part feels like he needs it to keep him safe.

he is disintegrating in front of my eyes.