Going Down...

A medical appointment last week revealed that my father has dropped about seven pounds in the last 3 months. While some people might regard this as cause for celebration, in his case, going from 114 to 107 lbs without trying suggests something more insidious may be happening. For the record, he stands at about 5'-5 so is seriously underweight.

Yes, old people shrink. Muscle mass evaporates along with bone density, but this kind of weight loss in a short time is troubling. The obvious concern would be some kind of malignancy, so of course the doctor ordered more tests. But the issue could be much simpler: my father has been eating less and less, requesting very small portions and becoming pickier about certain foods. It doesn’t help matters that my stepmother’s cooking ranges from merely uninspired to god-awful.

It occurred to me that his giving up food could be part of his general trend of giving up. Maybe not an active suicide plan, but then again…maybe. He’s about to turn 87; he knows that his memory is slipping away. Moreover, he is still aware of how much worse things are likely to get—so maybe this is his way of avoiding the most miserable phase of his life—the indignity of having someone put diapers on him, of having to be fed and bathed. Who would willingly sign up for that?

Elderly white males in our culture have the highest suicide rate of any group.  Losing control, being dependent on others is anathema to most traditional men who have spent their lives being in control and having others depend on them. My dad is one of those guys.  

True to form, Jeannie doesn’t get it. She thinks he just “isn’t being practical.” “Not using common sense.” She ascribes everything to his “lifelong pattern of negative thinking.” Her solution, frequently voiced, is that he should just snap out of it and be more like her. She often remarks that he’s in good enough shape physically—better off than most men his age, so why can’t he just try harder?

She may be in denial, and also has a lot to lose if he dies. Naturally, she doesn’t want to be left alone, with nobody to chatter at. And she would suffer financially, standing to lose half of his pension, which I'm guessing is her primary concern. Maybe she even wonders if I would continue to be as willing as I am now to help her with shopping and errands. (Let me take this opportunity to pledge that I will not be very available, and don’t plan to help out more than once a month at best.)

Here’s another promise: I may not ask my father directly about his intentions, but will give him my full support if he chooses to leave this world.  I do “get it” and while I couldn’t bring myself to actively help him end his life, I'll do whatever else I can to make his journey easier, wherever it may lead.

Dad & I