Round Fourteen: Exhaustion

The beginning of August 2005 arrived. I was exhausted,  the nurses were exhausted and Daddy was completely drained. I could tell his will to fight was fading. He had no fight left to give. He was fighting to breathe and that took every ounce of strength he had.To look at him,  it was hard to believe that just over a year earlier he was a fully functioning member of society. From June 04 to Aug 05, the Monster had devoured him. My Daddy was every bit of 300 plus pounds. That August,  he was a skin covered twig. His frame was still big,  but his skin draped over him like a blanket. No muscle tone to speak of. His skin was ashen and thin from lack of nutrition.  He refused any tubes being put in. We had to constantly put one or two drops of water in his mouth to hydrate it, but it couldn't be too much because he couldn't swallow.He was needing liquid moraphine and moraphine breathing treatments to allow him to breathe. He was also on several pain killers to reduce the pain from his deteriorated muscles. Attivan was given to calm his nerves. He would panic when he couldn't catch his breath and it would make it ten times worse.The last few days I felt horrible,  but I was at my breaking point. I only slept a couple of hours at a time. I felt like I was the worst daughter in the world for getting frustrated with his numerous requests. He wasn't pestering me on purpose, I was his caregiver... who he relyed on for everything. But I was exhausted... I had past exhausted into dilerious.I remember just falling in the middle of the kitchen floor, onto my back and staring at the ceiling, with tears rolling down my face. I felt the monster mocking me. Tearing Daddy from my grips despite my best effort. I was so tired,  so exhausted... I could only imagine what it was like for Daddy. I cried and cried... because no matter what I did,  I couldn't save him. I couldn't save my hero.