"Somebody"]Socrates; maybe. Anyway "The only difference between Heaven and hell, Horatio, is thinking makes it so".
I was tip toeing through a not so bad period where I was living in my own little apartment, visiting my Dad at least, say 2 times a month in the Nursing Home (200 miles away), going to flea markets to try to sell a few of my items I've collected over the years, reconnected with a couple old friends, had my refrigerator raided by my indigent son 29 or so times, caught on, if I buy Soya milk and black beans and stuff he doesn't like, my food lasts longer. Things were ok. I was de-stressing and not nearly having the pain and anxiety I'd had for the previous three years.
I got "the call" from the Nursing home. Dad has very aggressive cancer on his tongue and has between 2 weeks to 4 months max, to live.
So, I got busy. Last two weeks seeking Palliative Care here in our area as opposed to 400 miles round trip, away in a facility where they work wonders with dementia patients but cancer/palliative care, maybe 2 weeks of training ten years back for most of them. Now I have a problem. Care coordinator says "he's got a nursing home bed, we have no reason to move him. Well I sure as heck do. He has two brothers one sister, nieces, nephews, friends, me, his POA and caregiver, etc. etc. here in this area and they need him here. They are (the sibs) too old to drive 400 miles to visit their dying brother. I am everyday, almost all day on the phone or awaiting a call about the latest "no", about what will and will not be possible.
So, against all advice, my son's (the fridge raider), and many others, I say, two weeks to 4 months, I can do this. palliative care, Peritoneal Care, VON, can all come here. As long as he's around his loved ones, his dog, me, his brothers and sisters, my sons etc. I can do this. If he survives 4 months, which he won't, but should he, well then we'll re-evaluate. At least I can sit by his bed and hold his and while death comes roughly through the dark, dark, night.