Tonight I thanked God for the blessing of oxygen. My dad is on hospice care, which is me and Jeremy.
We called the nurse at midnight because Dad was having such a hard time breathing. We thought it might be the night he left for Heaven. The nurse gave us "magic drops" to put under his tongue. It was the only thing that allowed him to sleep. But tonight, they brought an oxygen machine. He originally didn't want one. But he welcomed it tonight.
I. AM. AMAZED.
This simple stream of oxygen is a massive game changer. He has been sleeping for over four hours now. For the first time, his head is relaxed and back on his pillow. There is no struggling. There are no coughing fits or futile attempts to get clear of the gunk. It is the first time he has been able to maintain sleep semi-reclined.
But it was the rest—the laying back, the peace, the letting his head rest that had me marveling at the effect of oxygen.
That's what brought back the parallels of the gift of oxygen--literal or figurative. The relaxing amidst chaos. The resting of one's mind when able to breathe.
I thanked a dear friend for that who was a big part of my journey—that oxygen for me when I couldn't catch my breath on my own.
